He Cut My Hair. I Cut Him Off.

Caleb froze. He pressed his hand against my forehead as he sneered. "Maeve, are you saying that you want to break up with me? You're not even running a fever, so why are you talking nonsense?

"You've been with me for eight years. Do you think you'll ever find someone else after we break up? Who the hell would want you? Can you stop being so dramatic?"

The tears that I had swallowed came rushing back at his words. So he knew that we had been together for eight years.

People always said that lovers would start to feel more like family after being together for a long time.

But Caleb hadn't become my family. He was growing further and further away from being my lover as well.

I bit my lip and met his gaze head-on. "There are plenty of guys in the world. I don't necessarily need you."

Caleb's face twisted with anger as he looked at me.

His friends began to speak up.

"Alright, alright. Caleb's backing down already. Don't push it, Maeve. It's just a wig. Let Caleb buy you a bunch. You can switch them out every day. Seven wigs—one for each day."

As Caleb's friends laughed at me, Julia chimed in, her expression full of hurt, "Honestly, this is all my fault. I'll pay for your wig money, Maeve. Please don't make things difficult for Caleb."

Her eyes were red as she said that. Her pitiful expression softened Caleb's face with sympathy. He glared at me, like I was his sworn enemy.

"Maeve, just take it out on me. Julia's really sick. Why do you have to pick on a sick person? You've changed. You weren't like this before!"

I opened my mouth, ready to respond. But before I could speak, Julia clutched her stomach in pain. "Caleb, it hurts so much. Help me…"

Caleb shoved me aside.

Caught off guard, I stumbled and tripped over the chair. I gasped in pain.

When Caleb saw this, he didn't even show an ounce of concern. Instead, he yelled at me, "Stop making a scene! You're whining over a little bit of hair! You know Julia's sick, and you're still upsetting her! If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you!"

With that, he swept Julia into his arms and stormed off with his friends trailing behind him.

The last person to leave was holding my hair in his hand. He casually tossed my long, thick locks into the trash.

I stood there frozen for a moment, then hurried over to pick up the pieces of my hair. Tears streamed down my face.

At that moment, I made a decision—I was going to leave Caleb.

…

I went to a barber shop and had my head shaved clean. While I was at it, I took advantage of a hotel's discount package.

When I returned to pack my things, Caleb walked in, looking completely exhausted.

The moment he saw the suitcase in my hand, his expression darkened. He stormed over and kicked the suitcase out of the way.

"How long are you going to keep this up? The doctor said Julia's condition worsened! It's all because of you! I haven't even gotten mad at you, and you're throwing a tantrum?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Her cancer is my fault? Caleb, do you know how ridiculous you sound?"

I guess he'd never heard me speak like that before, because he froze for a moment.

Ignoring him, I bent down to pick up the suitcase he'd kicked aside and continued to pack my belongings.

I didn't have much. I had lived here for eight years, but everything I owned fit into two 26-inch suitcases.

I glanced over at Caleb, who was standing silently, and casually said, "I'll pay the rent as soon as you transfer the money for my hair to me."