At that moment, Colton could not resist the temptation to tease, his smirk widening. "Tyron, that ring on your finger looks familiar. Isn't that a couple’s ring? Oh, wait, now I remember. I saw one just like it in my trash can a few days ago.”
I consciously ignored Verity’s discreet attempt to hide her ring finger, maintaining a calm demeanor as I responded, “Such ordinary rings are quite common. If you like it, I’d be happy to part with mine.”
Colton let out a light chuckle and graciously declined my offer. As I stepped out of the private room, an unexpected sense of freedom washed over me. Right afterward, I headed straight for the trash can, feeling as though I was finally shedding a weight I had carried for far too long.
In an instant, I tossed the ring that Verity had given me seven years ago into the bin.
It felt like a breath of fresh air, releasing me from the burdens of the past and paving the way for a brighter future.
While waiting for the elevator, my phone rang; my mother checked if I had booked my ticket home. “I’ll take care of it in a few days,” I assured her.
As I hung up, I heard Verity’s voice behind me, inquiring, “What’s on the agenda for booking?”
The following morning, I stirred to find Verity comfortably resting against my shoulder, lost in the glow of her phone.
When she realized I was awake, she waved over the waiter to bring us breakfast.
As we savored our meal, she asked, “What prompted you to change your phone password?”
I shrugged coolly and replied, “I just felt like it.”
Her birthday had been the code to our bond, and now, as we chose to part ways, it seemed only just to let it slip away.
Verity hesitated, biting her lower lip as she set down her knife and fork, a wave of nostalgia shimmering in her eyes.
“Tyron, weren’t you always nudging me to see a movie? There’s a theater just around the corner,” she said, her voice woven with wistfulness and warmth.
As the boss took the lead, I, a humble worker, had no grounds to refuse. I nestled close to my girlfriend in the dim, sparsely populated cinema, savoring popcorn as we watched a heartwarming romantic comedy.
This sweet moment I once craved came to life, yet I felt detached, yawning more than I cared to admit.
Verity, noticing my disinterest, frowned slightly and asked, “You chose this movie, didn’t you? Don’t you like it?”
“No, it’s pretty good,” I replied.