"Claire, how have you been? Why haven’t you responded to my messages these past few days?"
"Lennon, let's break up."
Lennon froze for a moment, but his composure quickly returned. With a familiar smile, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the lounge with such force that I winced.
"Come home for dinner tonight. My mother told me to make your favorite dish."
I struggled against his grip. "Lennon, I said let's break up."
His expression stiffened, though his cheerful facade remained intact.
"Claire, stop talking nonsense."
He grasped my hands again, rubbing them gently. A faint tenderness seeped into his voice.
"That day with Mia, I just wanted to provoke you. I didn’t mean for you to feel neglected." His expression shifted to one of feigned grievance. "How could I like someone like Mia? I only love you."
His gaze carried a semblance of sincerity, but I knew better. It was all an illusion.
I shook my head, letting out a quiet sigh before turning to face him directly.
"Lennon, I don’t care who you like. And I don’t care if you still love me." Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a small velvet box, a gift I had once carefully prepared for him a long time ago.
"All I know is that I don’t love you anymore."
Opening the box, I revealed two silver cufflinks. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the trash can.
Lennon’s eyes darted to the trash, his carefully maintained calm finally cracking.
"Claire, I don’t accept this breakup. And you can’t break up with me either."
The undertone of aggression was unfamiliar, almost unnerving.
But I held my ground, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. At last, he faltered. Muttering a low curse, he turned on his heel and stormed off.
Yet after only a few steps, he stopped and spun around, his eyes rimmed with a faint redness.
"Claire, let’s both calm down. We’ll talk after the performance."
The performance he referred to was the orchestra’s founding anniversary, a grand event just two weeks away. Both of us were set to perform, with me leading the strings section.
He did not wait for my response, perhaps afraid of my rejection. Without another word, he strode out of the room, never glancing back.
I closed my eyes tightly, resting my head against the cold wall. Memories of my time with Lennon flooded my mind.
I had never been a woman who liked to linger on the past, yet I was far from decisive.