Time to Part Ways

The night before my first love returned, I broke up with the boy toy.

His eyes reddened as he said, "I don't want anything in return; I just want to spend a little more time with you."

The bank card I offered was refused. I paused for a moment but eventually agreed to his request.

He pushed his luck further, "You have to wear my favorite nightgown."

In the middle of the night, I lit a cigarette and leaned lazily against the headboard, watching him. "What are you looking for?"

"The clothes you bought me before. I want to take them as a keepsake," he replied, his voice carrying a barely noticeable tremor.

I sighed and beckoned him over, "Come here, let me give you a kiss."

Maverick was obedient and clean, almost the perfect lover I had molded.

If Jared hadn't returned, I might have stayed with him for a few more years.

But there was no choice; the real deal was back, and the substitute had to step aside.

1

After a year together, I knew Maverick quite well.

He was only nineteen, just starting his sophomore year, and was quite the figure at school.

I had warned him, "You can have a pure romance with a young girl, but don't let me find out."

The young man, who had been diligently peeling an apple for me, looked up in a panic, "I haven't been seeing anyone else.

You're my first love."

As if to prove his point, he lunged forward to hug me.

The light shone down on his chiseled face, even making his tousled hair appear somewhat alluring.

I hooked his chin and planted a kiss, praising him, "Good boy."

Snapping back from my memories, I looked up to see Maverick standing at the entrance with his suitcase, looking at me.

He had brought that suitcase when he moved in, and now, as he left, he took nothing but the clothes I had bought him.

I changed clothes and walked him downstairs, but Maverick refused my offer to drive him back to school, opting to call a ride on his phone instead.

Before leaving, his last words to me were, "I wasn't with you for the money."

I was momentarily choked by smoke, looking up to see him standing by the open car door, his eyes slightly red but still standing tall like a soldier at attention.

"I believe you," I said.

Hearing this, Maverick suddenly smiled, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, a mix of longing and resentment. "We'll meet again."

I admit, I felt a moment of softness and reluctance.

But it was quickly interrupted by a call from Jared.

Picking up, I heard his familiar, cool voice, "Cara, I'm at the airport."

I gripped the phone tightly, trying to keep my tone calm, "Alright, find a place to wait. I'll come pick you up."

On the drive to the airport, I kept reminiscing.

During the most humbling years of my youth, Jared was almost a godlike presence to me.

He was high above, yet kind and compassionate, saving me from countless predicaments with ease.

When a group of boys cornered me, threatening to take indecent photos, it was Jared who happened by, smashed the camera, and pulled me behind him, saying coldly, "If you have a problem, take it up with me.

Don't bully girls."

On the coldest winter day, when I was locked out of my dorm after a shower, it was Jared who found me, made a call, and took me to his house across from the school.

My hair was frozen, and I hesitated at the entrance.

He bent down, found a pair of my mother's cozy slippers from the shoe cabinet, and placed them in front of me, "These are my mom's.

Wear them for the night."

Even when my stepfather tried to sell me off to pay his gambling debts, I ran into Jared on his way to a piano class.

His hands, once graceful on the piano, were clenched into fists, landing hard on my stepfather's nose.

Jared shielded me, saying, "Your clothes are a mess; fix them."

Then he charged again.

The incident escalated, and my stepfather, along with his creditors, were arrested for gambling.

Under Jared's protection, I finished high school and went to college.

Just when I thought my feelings for him could blossom, he went abroad.

If not for the Lawson Family's bankruptcy, bringing him back to handle affairs, I thought we might never meet again.

2

After picking up Jared from the airport, I watched him place his luggage and settle into the passenger seat. I asked, "Do you want to stay at a hotel or my place?"

Jared paused, "Your place."

His composed demeanor seemed innate, with no hint of the family's downfall.

I gazed at his elegant profile, a bit entranced, "You haven't changed a bit."

His clear gaze fell on me, "Cara, you've changed a lot."

"Really?"

I wasn't surprised, gripping the steering wheel as I started the car, "Money can buy beauty."

"No," Jared's voice was calm yet firm, "I thought you were beautiful in high school."

I chuckled softly, saying nothing.

I was pretty back then, but also vulnerable, unable to protect myself.

My striking looks and early development earned me a bad reputation, except with Jared.

So, I was grateful to him.

I brought Jared home, helped him with his luggage, and showed him to the neatly arranged guest room next door.

His gaze swept the room, stopping at the clothes on the nightstand.

He turned sharply, "Has anyone else stayed here?"

"Of course not."

I casually picked up the clothes, tossing them aside, "You're the first occupant."

I wasn't lying.

From the day Maverick moved in, he insisted on sharing a room with me.

Even during my period, he refused to sleep in the guest room, instead thoughtfully preparing ginger tea and painkillers, and soothing my cramps through the night.

Jared came over, hugging me, whispering in my ear, "Cara, no matter if you had a boyfriend before, now that I'm back, I won't let go."

Living with Jared was more pleasant than I imagined.

Compared to eight years ago, when he had just turned eighteen, he seemed less cold and more gentle and reserved.

Yet, occasional flashes of emotion revealed he still retained his youthful sharpness, just better at hiding it.

That night, when he emerged from the bathroom, his lips were tight, his expression somewhat stern.

I casually asked, "What's wrong?"

Jared's gaze was sharp for a moment but quickly masked by a calm facade.

He knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist, shaking his head gently, "Nothing, just some work thoughts."

Later, when I went to the bathroom, I found an electric shaver in the trash, clearly used, left by Maverick.

I hesitated, recalling the scene when I gave it to Maverick.

The young boy had cheered, dramatically hugging me and planting a hot kiss on my cheek.

I laughed, "You haven't said if you like it."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I love everything you give me!"

Coming back to reality, I hesitated but retrieved the shaver from the trash, cleaned it, and put it in a box.

I'll find time to contact Maverick and return it to him; after all, he's used to it.

3

I spent several days at home with Jared until Jeffrey called, and I had to return to the company for some project decisions.

Upon meeting, he teased, "Ms. Clark, even you have days when you forsake your responsibilities?"

Jeffrey held shares in my company and had helped me a lot.

During my toughest times, if not for his trust and decisive investment, along with introducing a major order, I might still be working multiple jobs to pay off debts.

Back then, I had prepared a gift to thank him, but he was holding his girlfriend and didn't even glance at me. "No need, I just trust my own judgment."

Jeffrey's name is renowned in this industry.

He started his business at nineteen, and his flawless decision-making record even got him featured in university textbooks.

In my mind, he's someone so strict that he wouldn't allow himself to lose control for even a second.

As I signed the papers, I said without looking up, "Your first love is back, you should roll out the red carpet for her."

After I said that, he didn't respond for a while. I looked up, puzzled, only to find Jeffrey standing at my desk, leaning over and looking down at me.

"Your first love... the one named Jared?"

"Yes," I replied, lowering my head again to sign the last contract. "Jeffrey, you knew this already.

Besides, you have a fiancée. Don't tell me you're jealous."

There was a time between Jeffrey and me.

Of course, I prefer to call it a casual fling between consenting adults.

And I always thought Jeffrey saw it the same way.

But at that moment, he suddenly hooked my chin with his hand. His charming eyes held a casual smile, yet there was an irresistible allure as he leaned closer.

"No fiancée. I never agreed to the old man's engagement plans."

My breath quickened slightly, and I frowned. "Why?"

He smirked, and the next second, a cold kiss landed on my lips. "What if I said it's because I like you?"

The sensation lasted only a moment before I pushed him away. I turned my head, wiped my lips, and said lightly, "Are you joking?"

"I knew you wouldn't fall for it."

Jeffrey shrugged, stood up straight, and took the contracts I had signed. "Alright, if there's nothing else, you can go back and continue your time with your little boyfriend."

"No rush. He's gone back to handle family matters. I'm free today."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then, how about a drink?"

I never expected to run into Maverick at the bar Jeffrey and I often visited.

At first, I thought I was mistaken until Jeffrey followed my gaze and laughed. "Cara, isn't that the little boy you used to keep around?"

A few meters away, Maverick sat expressionless in a booth, swirling a glass of wine without taking a sip.

A girl with long curly hair leaned in, only to be pushed away.

The boy next to him coughed in disbelief. "No way, Maverick. Cara isn't playing with you anymore, and you're really planning to stay chaste for her forever?"

"Shut up."

Maverick looked up coldly at him. The usually gentle and obedient boy now appeared rebellious and stern. "One more word and you're out."

Jeffrey clicked his tongue beside me. "Cara, even you can misjudge sometimes."

Maverick wasn't the obedient, innocent boy he seemed.

As I realized this, Maverick inadvertently looked up, his gaze sweeping around before locking onto me.

Panic flashed in his eyes, but when he saw Jeffrey beside me, it turned into undisguised coldness.

He stood up with his drink and walked over to me. "Cara, what are you doing here?"

I took a sip of my Baileys. "It's quiet here."

Maverick glanced at Jeffrey. "Who is he?"

"... A business partner."

Clearly, Jeffrey heard me. He raised an eyebrow, let out an ambiguous chuckle, but said nothing more.

Maverick seemed relieved. He placed his glass on the table, leaned down, and cautiously asked, "Cara, can I sit here?"

As Maverick sat down beside me, Jeffrey extended a hand to him with a faint smile. "Hello, I'm Jeffrey."

This name was well-known in the city, and Maverick had certainly heard of it.

His lips tightened, but he still reached out to shake hands. "Maverick."

"Young Maverick, you look quite young. Are you still in college?"

"Sophomore year.

It's fine. After all, Cara doesn't like older guys."

Jeffrey chuckled and downed his drink. "Naturally.

Younger people are often more carefree and less complicated. If I just wanted to have fun, I'd also choose young girls."

Maverick gritted his teeth, nearly crushing his glass. "Is that so?

It seems Mr. Blake is not exactly a saint."

I rested my chin on my hand, listening with interest as they exchanged barbs until Jeffrey's phone rang.

He answered it, his smile unchanged, but his eyes grew colder.

"Is that so?"

His voice was icy. "You haven't learned anything else, but you've learned to tattle.

In that case, tell the old man I'll be back to see him tonight."

Jeffrey hung up, put away his phone, and gave me a regretful smile. "I promised to drink with you tonight, but it seems I have to break that promise."

"Go ahead," I said lightly. "I'm fine on my own."

Maverick leaned in close, wrapping his arm around mine, and shot a challenging glance at Jeffrey.

Jeffrey seemed unfazed, offering me a faint smile instead. "See you the day after tomorrow. Don't forget, we still need to discuss the collaboration with ApexVision Company."

I nodded, downing the rest of my drink. When I looked up again, Jeffrey's tall and upright figure had already disappeared through the bar's entrance.

"Alright," I said, tapping the table and turning to Maverick. "Now, tell me, what are you doing here?"

Maverick stared at me intently. "Babe, are you really going to break up with me?"

His eyes were slightly red, and his voice carried a subtle tremor. I recalled many nights when I lazily leaned against the cushions, and Maverick would obediently come over to light my cigarette.

I would kiss him, passing the smoky taste to him, watching as he coughed and teared up, then apologizing insincerely, "Sorry, sweetheart."

Maverick never minded.

After his coughing subsided, he'd come back, playfully demanding more kisses.

He'd gaze at me, his Adam's apple and neck creating a delicate, vulnerable silhouette, a fragile yet stunning beauty, just like now.

I sighed.

"Maverick, you're still young. Leaving me to find someone your own age for a typical relationship might not be a bad thing."

"I don't want to."

He fixed his eyes on me. "Babe, I don't want anyone but you."

His stubbornness was endearing, and I rubbed my temples, waving over the bartender. "A Long Island Iced Tea, please, and an extra glass with ice."

After finishing the drink, a wave of dizziness hit me.

I decided to change the subject. "You left something at my place. Make sure to pick it up later."

I stood up, swaying slightly, and Maverick immediately stepped forward to steady me.

A fresh, pleasant scent unique to young men wafted from him as I leaned back to regain my balance.

Maverick murmured, "Cara, I miss you so much."

He was only nineteen.

When he met me, he was a clean slate, knowing nothing.

I had shaped him, every bone fitting perfectly with mine.

In the end, I couldn't resist the tenderness and softened, leaning into Maverick's embrace as we got into the car.

Fortunately, although he ordered a drink, he hadn't touched a drop, and he safely drove us back to my building.

I reached for the car door, and the cold wind rushed in, but his warm arm wrapped around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Don't go."

For a moment, I was lost in thought.

I remembered the first time I saw him.

N University was hosting a basketball game, and a younger friend had invited me several times. I finally had the time to attend.

As my sports car parked outside the court, the sun was setting.

I leaned against the car, watching with interest as Maverick made a three-point shot. The crowd cheered, but he casually wiped his sweat, his gaze meeting mine.

The sky was painted with a vast crimson glow, reflecting in his eyes. In that instant, my focus shifted.

I went to a nearby convenience store, bought a bottle of water, and walked straight to Maverick, who was wiping his sweat by the court. He paused, looking down at me.

"Do we know each other?" "No, but we do now."

I tilted my head slightly, smiling at him. "I'm Cara."

Maverick accepted the bottle, and thus began our year-long romance.

Initially, I was aware that I was searching for traces of Jared in Maverick.

His youthful energy, his intense stubbornness and pride, repeatedly dragged me back into memories, reminding me of my past self-humble and restrained-and Jared, who pulled me from the depths of despair.

But at some point, the line between Maverick and Jared became clearer in my mind.

Jared had saved me, but he was cold, rarely showing emotion.

Maverick, however, was like a flame, straightforward and passionate, shining brightly and unreservedly in my life.

Last winter, I finally closed a major business deal that had been in negotiation for three months.

To celebrate, I took Maverick shopping.

Standing at the mall entrance, I smiled. "Today, the sky's the limit, get whatever catches your eye."

Maverick hesitated, then took out a card from his bag, handing it to me.

"Get whatever you like, within eight thousand."

"I got a scholarship, so let me treat you today, alright?"

Whether genuine or not, at that moment, I was immersed in his sincere affection, and in his unreserved love, I realized once again that he wasn't Jared.

Jared never said he liked me.

He was reserved and quiet, his love restrained and unspoken.

But Maverick was different. Later, in the mall, I picked a two-thousand-dollar dress. When I came out of the fitting room, he rushed over, hugging me in front of the store clerk, his eyes shining. "Cara, you're so beautiful.

I really like you."

He had said he liked me countless times, even murmuring my name in his sleep.

"Babe," Maverick looked at me earnestly, "can I still come home with you?"

"Don't worry, I promise I won't do anything."