Broken Love: His Final Goodbye

On Valentine’s Day, my girlfriend Florence Higgins was rushed to the hospital after accidentally eating undercooked wild mushrooms.

Half-conscious on the hospital bed, she murmured, “Michael… I owed you too much. If my family’s company hadn’t been on the brink of collapse, you wouldn’t have left, and I wouldn’t have ended up with Noah.”

I am Noah Owens.

As for Michael Connor, he was the love of her life. The one she cherished most during her youth.

What she seemed to forget was that when her family’s company was about to collapse, Michael had been the first to walk away.

During those seven years, I was the one who helped revive her company, the one who stayed by her side.

I believed she might eventually have a change of heart, but I never expected her to abort our child for the sake of her first love.

At that moment, I finally understood that you can’t force warmth where there is none.

At the gathering, Florence Higgins joked about her mushroom poisoning as if it were a funny story.

Everyone around her burst into laughter, but I could not bring myself to smile.

I sat quietly in a corner, eating in silence, trying to chew and swallow the discomfort along with my food.

“Why is Noah so quiet today?” Timothy Holt asked with a grin as he looked at me, every word laced with venom, his intention to embarrass me laid bare.

He was both Michael Connor’s close friend and Lucy Holt’s husband.

“Did that hit too close to home?”

At his words, the group erupted into laughter again.

Timothy and Lucy seemed to set the tone, and soon more people joined in, hurling verbal barbs at me.

“To be honest, you’re pretty lucky.”

“Even if Florence still loves Michael, didn’t she still plan to marry you?”

They took turns trampling on my pride, leaving me no room to defend myself.

I looked at Florence and saw her quietly sipping her tea.

She looked calm and distant, as if everything they said and did had nothing to do with her.

From her attitude, I already understood that this time, too, she wasn’t going to stand up for me.

I had no choice but to fight back.

“As far as I know, Timothy, you weren’t Lucy’s first love either.

“And if Michael is so perfect, why did he vanish without a trace when Florence’s family was on the verge of bankruptcy?”

My words struck at Timothy’s sore spot.

He pointed at me in rage, his voice trembling as he shouted, “You think you have the right to talk to me like that just because you’ve tied yourself to Florence?

“You don’t deserve her.

“If Michael hadn’t gone abroad, do you really think there would have been a place for you by her side?”

With the sharp sound of a glass shattering, the atmosphere in the private room suddenly turned cold.

Florence, who had seemed detached only moments earlier, now radiated icy fury.

The room went deathly still.

Florence turned and grabbed my throat, her face dark with rage.

“Apologize, Noah. And don’t talk about Michael.”

“No. I did nothing wrong,” I said stubbornly.

“Good. Very good,” she replied coldly.

“I’ve been far too kind to you, and now you don’t even know your place.”

Her fingers tightened, and my breathing grew labored.

No one around us stepped forward to help. Every face wore the look of someone enjoying the spectacle.

She often choked me to threaten me, and because she was a woman and I refused to raise a hand against her, I never fought back, no matter how many times she abused me.

Only when I was on the verge of suffocation did someone finally speak up.

“I think that’s enough, Florence. He’s not worth it. Going to prison for killing him wouldn’t be worth it either.”

Florence acted as if she hadn’t heard a word.

Talking about Michael had always been off the table.

The strength in her hands did not loosen at all.

When the others realized they couldn’t stop her and feared I might truly die in her hands and implicate them, they moved forward to pry her fingers from my neck.

“You’ve got a call… Answer it, Florence.”

Michael’s voice cut through the heavy silence.

It was the ringtone he had recorded exclusively for Florence, one she still used even though they had broken up seven years ago.

Only then did Florence release me and immediately answer the call.

I clutched my neck and coughed violently, a deep chill settling in my heart.

Yet Florence focused solely on Michael’s call and did not spare me a glance.

When it came to Michael, she refused to let him wait even a second.

On the other end of the line, Michael’s voice sounded bright and full of energy. “I’m back in the country, Florence. We should meet.”

The air changed instantly, and everyone suddenly became animated.

Soon, they all left the private room, leaving only Timothy behind, standing over me with arrogant disdain.

I was still struggling to catch my breath, the suffocating sensation unbearably painful.

“Weren’t you pretty impressive just now?” he sneered.

“Now that Michael is back, let’s see how long you can keep feeling proud.”

He was savoring my humiliation.