Seven Years of Love Cannot Defeat the Return of First Love

At a class reunion, everyone was having a blast playing Truth or Dare.

"Ask any lady the color of her underwear."

If unanswered, they had to drink a penalty shot.

When it came to my girlfriend's first love, he looked straight at her without hesitation.

She blushed and hesitated. "Your favorite color."

I stood by, watching them exchange flirtatious glances.

They treated me like a fool the whole time.

Our classmates expected me to explode with anger.

Instead, I clapped and encouraged them. "With the atmosphere like this, not kissing would be a shame!"

1

The air turned tense, and suddenly, silence fell over the classmates.

My girlfriend, Lorna Camp, turned to face me. Her eyes were slightly glazed due to alcohol.

"What are you doing?" she asked sharply.

"Allen has drunk too much. He can't have any more. Is it necessary to make a fuss about this?"

She yelled at me, her face flushed.

She wasn't drunk at all, clearly sober.

I clenched my fists, veins bulging in my neck.

Lorna and I had been together for three years, during which she had secretly kept in touch with her ex.

Their chats were explicit and had no boundaries.

Her ex, Allen Gill, would ask Lorna about her measurements, underwear color—everything.

She would answer as if it were nothing, even saying, "Don't you know? I always dress according to your preferences."

A week ago, Allen returned to the country. They immediately arranged to meet, kissing as if they couldn't bear to part. They were almost in bed together.

I came home from work and caught them hugging and kissing, so I punched Allen in anger.

I was not dead yet.

But Lorna slapped me, shouting at me, "Allen just got back from abroad, and kissing is according to foreign customs. What are you jealous about?"

Then she helped Allen up from the ground, where he had been laughing secretly.

I was treated as invisible.

Allen's hands were on her waist, intimately.

Then he complained to Lorna, "We shouldn't meet in the future. He might misunderstand."

"We're open and aboveboard. If he goes crazy, he can leave," Lorna said coldly.

That wasn't even the worst part.

Yesterday, while I was on a business trip, they took advantage of my absence and got intimate on the couch.

When I watched the surveillance footage, I almost smashed my phone.

I was furious and caught the next flight home. But Lorna wasn't there when I arrived.

She said she was attending a class reunion.

So, I went straight to the venue.

I never expected to open the door to the private room and witness this scene firsthand.

I used to be so foolish, always backing down whenever she got angry.

I didn't ask much, thinking they would stop themselves.

Little did I know, there was no stopping them, and it only got worse.

If I kept tolerating this, I was worthless. I would never accept this.

"Fine, I'm petty and crazy. Let's break up!" I declared.

"I won't care about you anymore."