Choosing New Love Over Ex

On this day every year, the sky seems perpetually gray, casting a shadow over my heart.

I carried a bouquet of white calla lilies and met Oscar at the cemetery's entrance.

"Aunt Sapphire, I'm sorry. The flowers are a little wilted today. I'll bring better ones next time."

I placed the bouquet gently in front of her grave and bowed solemnly.

Oscar stood nearby, watching me with eyes that were becoming increasingly red.

"Meredith, what my mom really wanted from you was more than just flowers. She treated you like her own daughter, yet you refused to see her one last time before she passed. When you left, it felt like you vanished into thin air, erasing all traces of us. Meredith, you're always so decisive. How can your heart be so unyielding?"

Thunder rumbled, and rain started to fall.

Despite the bitterness in Oscar's words, he angled the umbrella towards me, getting his own shoulder soaked.

"Did you ask me to come here just to scold me?"

He asked, "Have you visited my mom at all these years?"

"That's none of your business," I replied automatically.

I visit Aunt Sapphire out of gratitude for her kindness, not for Oscar's awareness.

"None of my business... Fine..."

Oscar murmured, a sardonic smile appearing on his lips.

I took out a card from my bag. "I agreed to meet you today to return this to you."

The card, sent to me by a friend of Oscar's six months ago, contained five million dollars.

When I was 19, we were so poor we couldn’t even afford basic groceries; we had to make do with simple meals. We saw someone win five million in the lottery on TV, and I jokingly said, "Oscar, do you think we'll ever have five million?"

Back then, Oscar was spreading the last bit of peanut butter onto my bread. "One day, we will."

Time and circumstances have changed.

At 26, Oscar came to me and said, "This money is from the promise I made back then; you deserve it, take it."

"I can't accept this." Despite Oscar’s insistence, I pushed the card back into his coat pocket.

"It doesn't matter whether you think you deserve it or not. If you think it's too much to spend, donate it. I have money now; I don’t need yours. And about any rumors, don’t worry, they’ll die down soon. From now on, let's just keep our distance."

My voice was steady, but internally, I was anything but calm. My hands clenched tightly beneath my sleeves, not wanting him to see any signs of weakness.

As I turned to leave, Oscar could no longer contain his emotions.

"Meredith!"

He let the umbrella drop to the ground, tears falling with it.

"Do you really want to cut me off completely? For us to be nothing but strangers, going our separate ways? Why?"

Tears mingled with the rain, indistinguishable as they slid down my cheeks.

He continued, "When I saw the rumor online, I found your secret Twitter account. Do you know how happy that made me? I thought I finally understood your feelings, but now I'm not so sure."

Oscar grabbed my shoulders, making me face him.

"Meredith, did you ever truly love me? Even once, wholeheartedly?"

He searched my eyes, attempting to gaze into my soul.

I mustered a bittersweet smile but said nothing.

He wanted answers, but I was determined not to provide them.

After all this time, whether the answer is "yes" or "no," does it really matter?

Oscar, if you must hold on, seek your answers in the memories long sealed away. You might find what you’re looking for there.

That evening, Oscar went live online.

As a renowned songwriter, his royalties are plentiful. The stream wasn't for promotion, but to interact with his fans.

Mindful of potential issues, his manager had advised against any live fan call-ins. Oscar only talked about the preparations for his new album. But the comments during the stream were overwhelming, many questioning his relationship with me.

Thinking about my reaction earlier, Oscar was tempted to say something reckless, like claiming I was his girlfriend.

A personal declaration like that would make any denial complicated. It would link us in a way neither could easily untangle.

But he inwardly mocked the thought. If he did that, it would certainly make us enemies.

Amidst the flurry of comments, one caught his eye:

"Oscar, your silver bracelet looks like it's tarnishing. Is it fake?"

"This was a gift; it can't be fake," he responded.

The bracelet was something I had given him before we parted ways. I told him, "If there's ever a day when you can't make it, sell this. Let it help you fulfill your dreams."

Though the bracelet was simple, compared to his collection of jewels and luxury watches, it was insignificant.

Yet, over the years, Oscar kept it with him, a tangible memory of me, as if I had never left.

The debate in the comments intensified. Tired of it, Oscar picked up a pair of cutters and snapped the bracelet.

Inside, it gleamed, revealing a golden core.

"Looks like gold to me," remarked one viewer.

"Who gifts gold wrapped in silver?" another retorted.

Oscar couldn't believe I’d given him a fake bracelet. But pure gold? That couldn't be right. We couldn’t have afforded it back then.

Fans offered advice: "Gold is softer than copper, leaves a mark if scratched or bitten. You could also heat the outer layer; real gold stays yellow, copper turns black."

Hesitant but curious, Oscar followed the suggestions.

The comments went crazy:

"Wow, it’s real gold!"

"Never seen silver wrapped in gold before."

"Who gives such an understated gift?"

"I’d love a friend who secretly gives gold!"

As Oscar read the comments, he was stunned, then hurried to fetch a digital scale. The internal weight was 77 grams of gold.

His voice trembled, "Four years ago, what was the price per gram of gold?"

After calculating, he murmured, "About three thousand dollars."

"Three thousand dollars..." he repeated softly.

The bracelet, once cold, now felt burning hot.

He had to remind himself he was live streaming. Covering his face with his hand, he tried to regain composure, to remain the flawless star.

But emotions surged, unyielding.

For the first time, Oscar didn’t care about appearances. Head bowed, tears seeped through his fingers.

The comments exploded in reaction.