After Eight Years Together, My Boyfriend Abandoned Me

Julian shot a venomous glare at my colleague and clapped back, “What do you know? Faith went through great trouble to bring this from abroad. How could it harm her?”

Turning his gaze at me, he added, “Just eat it already.”

He grabbed the cactus and shoved it toward my mouth. Its thorns cut into my lips, and blood quickly stained my skin.

Ignoring my pain, Julian continued pressing the cactus toward me.

My mouth soon filled with blood, and Faith feigned concern, her voice delicate and full of false pity.

“Oh no, I completely forgot how to prepare the cactus! Was this not the right way to eat it?”

“Angeli, are you okay?”

Instead of comforting me, Julian turned to console Faith, his impatience barely masked as he glanced at me.

“Stop acting so fragile. You’re not usually like this. Don’t ruin the mood.”

“Go clean yourself up. We’re eating here—you’re ruining everyone’s appetite.”

Swallowing my pain, I stumbled toward the door. After just a few steps, my vision blurred, and I collapsed.

In my dreams, I returned to the day I first met Julian.

It was late after class, and the path back to the dormitory was dark. A group of street thugs cornered me, forcing me into an alley.

Just then, Julian appeared out of nowhere and shielded me, taking a brutal beating in the process.

Bruised and bloodied, he stood tall until the thugs finally left us alone.

Like every tale of a hero saving a damsel in distress, I eventually became Julian’s girlfriend.

During our post graduate entrance exams, we scored equally well, but the anesthesiology program only accepted one student per year.

One day, Julian appeared before me with a diamond ring he must have painstakingly acquired. He knelt on one knee and promised, “Angeli, I’m a man. It’s my responsibility to work hard and give you a better life. Once I become an anesthesiologist, we’ll get married.”

“I’ll give you the best the world has to offer. Will you be the woman who stands behind me?”

Julian had retaken the exam three times to achieve his score. I knew how much he yearned for success. My heart ached for him, so I embraced him and said, “I will. But the moment you stop treating me right, I’ll leave.”

From then on, Julian seized the only opportunity for graduate school while I stayed home, willingly becoming his homemaker.

In the early years, he often surprised me with little gestures of love.

“Angeli, I made this cake for you. Happy birthday!”

“Silly girl, are your feet cold? Put them on my stomach—I’ll warm them for you.”

But somewhere along the line, the surprises stopped.

Six months ago, Julian stopped coming home for dinner regularly. Even when he did, he was often glued to his phone, laughing at the screen.

I asked him about it, and he brushed me off, saying he was chatting with his friends.

Now I knew that his “friend” was none other than Faith, his childhood sweetheart.

The man who once promised to marry me after achieving his dream had shifted his affections to someone else.

I laughed bitterly at my own naivety, realizing I had given my heart to someone unworthy.

“You’ll always be my Princess Angeli. No matter how you change, I’ll never stop loving you.”

Those were Julian’s words as he cupped my face years ago. Now, all that remained was disdain.

Everything from the past dissolved in this moment, leaving me as nothing more than a joke.

When I woke up, the doctor informed me that I had suffered an allergic reaction to the cactus.

Each thorn in my lips was painstakingly removed.

It was excruciating. Every thorn felt like a dagger Julian had plunged into me—each one a searing, heart-wrenching pain.

As the last thorn was removed, I silently vowed never to let him hurt me again.

I remembered the promise I made to myself years ago. If he ever treated me poorly, I would leave.

I decided it was time to fulfill that promise.

For a few days, I stayed home to recover. Julian claimed he was too busy with work to return.