How could two college professors—two people who seemed so well-matched—descend into something so sordid?

Almost ten minutes after receiving Ella's message, I finally saw James.

He arrived late, offering an apology: "Sorry, I got held up."

I looked at him, his familiar face now a mask of hypocrisy, and the lies he spoke made my stomach churn with disgust.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I simply said, cold and detached, "Let's go."

James drove to the restaurant, and I stared out of the window, not saying a word the entire way.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I pointed to the copy shop across the street. "You go in first. I need to print something."

James looked at me, his confusion obvious. "What’s so urgent that you can’t wait?"

I stared at his face—so familiar, yet now so foreign—and replied firmly, "Yes, it’s very important."

I entered the private room where my parents and James' parents were already chatting, discussing our engagement and marriage.

I handed over the gift I had prepared beforehand. "Uncle, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Lila," James' father said warmly. "You must be tired from the journey. Sit down."

After I took my seat, James' parents began asking about my life at school and my plans for the future.

Before I could answer, James interrupted. "Let’s not talk about work today. Let’s not put any pressure on Lila."

His words seemed protective, and everyone smiled, clearly pleased. The conversation shifted smoothly to the topic of marriage.

"What plans does Lila have for marriage?"

I turned to James, his hopeful gaze fixed on me. I took a deep breath and, without hesitation, said, "He and I won’t be getting married."