My Ex-Boyfriend Won’t Let Go After Our Breakup
Chapter 1
At 27, the pressure to get married was mounting.
I’d had a dramatic breakup with my boyfriend of three years, and now I was back home, facing a barrage of blind dates.
A friend asked, “You were so into Liam, you really over him?”
I scoffed, “I’m not stupid. He was fun for a fling, but marriage? That would’ve been a lifetime of misery.”
A familiar, grim voice cut through the air. “Oh, is that why you dumped me?”
1
Dragging my suitcase home, I bumped into a girl leaving the apartment.
She wore a loose black sweater, showing off delicate collarbones, with a “missing” bottom and YSL stiletto heels.
I recognized her as Liam’s bassist, Lucy, maybe early twenties, stunningly beautiful.
I instinctively stopped, hidden behind the hallway door.
Moments later, Liam emerged, wearing only jeans, casually leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette.
His upper body was bare, the impressive definition of his abs still glistening with water droplets.
He tossed a Chanel handbag her way.
“Here.”
Lucy’s eyes lit up; she jumped onto Liam, squealing.
“Oh my god, I’ve wanted this bag forever! Where did you get it?”
“Picked it up in Hong Kong.”
“I love it so much, thank you, baby!”
Lucy tried to linger, but Liam grew impatient, frowning slightly.
“Alright, go already.”
The girl climbed off him, a mix of playful anger and coquettishness.
“So heartless. You were calling me ‘baby’ a minute ago, and now you’re kicking me out.”
Undeterred, she playfully blew him a kiss.
“Gotta go, see you tomorrow.”
After she left, I stepped out from behind the door.
Liam seemed surprised to see me, pausing for a second, before quickly composing himself.
“Why didn’t you call ahead?”
I stared at him.
“It was late; I didn’t want to disturb you.”
The lingering blush on his neck was fresh, yet he showed no guilt, pulling me into the apartment.
“I’m hungry, let’s get something to eat.” He settled on the couch, turning on the TV, acting as if nothing had happened.
Seeing me hesitate, he frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
A slow, lazy smirk spread across his face.
“Missed me?”
He stood, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his warm breath caressing my neck, his hands sneaking under my shirt.
“Let’s eat you first—”
His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, sent shivers down my spine.
I closed my eyes, pulling away, exhausted.
I liked Liam’s body; his looks were a major reason I’d pursued him. But maybe it was the long flight, or the sight of that other woman, but I felt drained, completely uninterested.
Liam, rarely rejected, stiffened, his face darkening.
“What’s wrong?”
I looked down, noticing something on the carpet.
A torn-to-shreds black stocking.
Liam saw it too, making a disgusted sound, his expression souring.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. He lit another cigarette, the mint burst releasing a crisp pop.
“Her lease was up, she had nowhere to stay, so I let her crash here for the night.”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
I looked at Liam; the smoke obscured our expressions.
But we both knew the excuse was pathetic.
This wasn’t the first time Liam had cheated. He was inherently a womanizer, even when we first met.
My best friend had dragged me to a popular rock concert, raving about the lead singer’s looks and how hard the tickets were to get.
I wasn’t into rock, and was unenthusiastic.
Until Liam took the stage.
He hunched over his guitar, his dark hair unstyled, stray strands falling across his forehead, occasionally revealing his delicate eyelids.
He was the most simply dressed, in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, yet he instantly commanded the crowd’s attention.
His face was the epitome of expensive luxury.
He looked up, the dim lights reflecting in his amber eyes, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
That was my first concert, and my friend, along with the other girls in the audience, went wild. Their screams were deafening.
Our eyes met for a fleeting moment, before he quickly looked away.
The music was fantastic, but I didn’t hear a thing.
In that moment, the world was silent, only the thunder of my own heart audible.
After the show, countless girls flocked backstage for his contact information, and I was among them.
A lifelong singleton, it was probably the bravest thing I’d ever done.
Liam was accommodating, exchanging numbers with every girl, including me.
A year later, all his admirers had fallen away, except me. Out of pity, admiration, or something else entirely, Liam allowed our relationship to continue, until now.
But I knew, throughout those years, he never truly loved me.
Or maybe he did, in his way. He liked my compliance, my generosity, my lack of complaints.
He’d cheated numerous times, and each time, if he gave me a decent excuse, I’d forgive him.
He’d often said I wasn’t his type, that he was with me because I was good to him. He joked that he’d dump me the moment he found someone else. Our relationship endured only because of my self-sacrifice.
“You promised you wouldn’t cheat again.”
My voice was low, my gaze fixed on the ruined Balenciaga socks.
A hint of mockery flickered in Liam’s eyes; he showed no intention of appeasing me.
“You actually believed that?”
He leaned closer, blowing smoke in my face, his expression utterly cruel.
“Can’t handle it?”
“I can’t handle it, you can break up with me.”
He’d said those words countless times.
Each time ended with me begging him not to leave.
Over time, he learned how to manipulate me; he knew that the moment those words left his lips, I was helpless.
I turned my head. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Liam grabbed my wrist, his prominent brow giving him a forbidding expression.
“Riley, this has gone far enough.”
I wrenched my hand free, and went into the bedroom.
Soon, a loud slam echoed from outside.
Liam was gone.
He was angry, I knew.
After all, I’d always been the one appeasing him, never once standing up to him like this.
I turned over, opening my phone.
In the family group chat, my mom had tagged me.
“I haven’t pressured you before, but you’re 27 now, it’s time to think about marriage.”
“A colleague’s son seems nice, I think you’ll like him. Why don’t you come home for the holiday and meet him?”
Then I opened my boss’s message:
“Riley, the branch office needs people, and your abilities are being underutilized. Are you interested in managing the new branch? It’ll be challenging at first, but it’s up to you.”
My mother was urging me to come home for a blind date.
The company had just opened a new branch in my hometown. It seemed like there was no reason for me to stay.
I sighed. I really did like Liam.
He was handsome, fit, and we were compatible in bed. Most importantly, he was a total player.
Being with him was easy; I didn’t need to worry about commitment or the future.
When I first started my job, I was exhausted and needed an outlet, but I was average-looking and a hopeless romantic, and couldn’t find anyone suitable, until Liam.
He spent his best years with me, offering physical comfort when I was stressed about work.
And although he was promiscuous, he was careful about STIs, I’d heard from others that the women he dated had to provide recent health reports. I always protected myself, so I didn’t worry about getting sick. Finding another guy like him would be difficult.
But it couldn’t be helped. Dating was one thing; marriage was another.
I liked Liam.
But I knew he wasn’t right for me.
It was time to make a decision.
2
Liam didn’t return that night.
He didn’t show up for days, ignoring my messages and calls. Only red exclamation marks appeared. He’d blocked me; his usual cold-shoulder tactic.
He’d done this before, excelling at the silent treatment, always requiring my pleas for forgiveness.
But I was busy with work and didn’t have the time to chase him.
I was booking my flight home when my phone rang.
It was a friend of Liam’s.
The line was noisy, filled with laughter, chatter, and loud music.
“Riley, Liam’s drunk. Can you come get him?”
Liam loved to hit the bars. His family was wealthy, and the band was a hobby, not his livelihood.
I’d asked him why he didn’t take over the family business. He scoffed, saying his father had several illegitimate children battling over the inheritance, and he wasn’t interested in the drama.
His grandfather’s and mother’s wealth would eventually be his, so he didn’t need the money; he was just pursuing his passions.
Liam seemed utterly without ambition, and we had no common ground in that area. When I shared career successes with him, he was always uninterested.
He once said dismissively, “Why kill yourself working for a measly paycheck? It doesn’t even cover a night out at the bar.”
I knew we weren’t compatible, except physically. I didn’t care about his soul; I only liked his body.
He disregarded my feelings, merely accustomed to my compliance.
It was fine; breaking up wouldn’t be painful.
I agreed, hanging up and looking out the window.
The city lights seemed brighter at night, masking the stars.
I looked at my flight ticket; eight AM the day after tomorrow.
I sighed.
I didn’t want to break up so soon; we had great chemistry in bed. I’d been stressed with the job change and was planning one last fling.
It was a shame, but it couldn’t be helped.
…
At the bar, Liam was surrounded by women.
A diverse group, all beautiful, their youthful radiance barely concealed by makeup.
No wonder they liked him; Liam was rich, generous, handsome, and his womanizing seemed to add to his charm.
I touched my face, remembering Liam’s criticism.
“You’re 27, get a facial, take care of yourself.”
No wonder he found me lacking; he surrounded himself with girls in their early twenties.
I said nothing, standing at the edge of the group, our eyes meeting.
He seemed to ignore me, quickly looking away.
Lucy, flushed, clung to him, her voice syrupy.
“Liam, another drink.”
Liam smiled.
Under the lights, his eyes were captivating, yet devoid of warmth.
“That’s boring. Why don’t you feed me?”
“How?”
Liam didn’t answer, simply gazing at her.
A second later, Lucy understood; a spark of excitement flickered in her eyes, and she drank her caramel-colored whiskey.
Liam then captured her chin, kissing her fiercely. The kiss lacked tenderness; it felt like pure release, Lucy tilting her head back, her eyes welling up from lack of oxygen.
Whiskey spilled from their lips, shimmering under the lights, leaving a long, glistening strand when they finally parted.
The atmosphere erupted, the crowd screaming and cheering.
I knew it was intentional; he was punishing me.
For the slap in the face I’d given him, for not immediately apologizing.
When I reached Liam, everyone fell silent.
Liam looked up, his expression calm.
“What are you doing here?”
Looking at his face, I remembered our intimate moments.
When we were passionate, we’d said “I love you”.
Was it painful? A little.
But not unbearably so; after all, I’d always known what Liam was like.
Flirtatious, always seeking thrills, incapable of saying no.
Selfish, spoiled since childhood, always self-centered, never considering others’ feelings.
My voice trembled. “Liam, you’re being unreasonable.”
Liam looked at me, despite him sitting and me standing, I felt as if he was looking down on me.
He maintained that detached expression, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
“Unreasonable? You can break up with me. Nobody’s stopping you.”
I said nothing, simply staring at him.
I couldn’t count how many times he’d used the threat of breakup.
Fifty? A hundred?
A friend, sensing his overreaction, seeing how much I’d done for him over the years, whispered,
“Liam, don’t fight with your girlfriend. Look, she’s about to cry.”
In fact, I was crying.
To fully commit to the performance, as that tear fell, I clearly saw Liam’s expression change; his cigarette hand twitched, but he still remained silent, his gaze cold.
The next second, I said softly:
“Okay, Liam.”
“Let’s break up.”
Liam’s face turned incredibly ugly. For a moment I thought he was about to explode!
But instead of anger, a smile curled his lips—a smile that looked strained and gritted.
“Impressive, Riley. Fine. But I never go back.”
“Just don’t come crawling back to me.”
“Okay,” I nodded, wiping my tears.
Then I turned and walked away, without looking back.
That night, Liam didn’t come back, and I deleted all contact information and anything related to him, packed my bags.
The next morning, I took the earliest flight back home.
As the plane soared above the clouds, I removed my SIM card and tossed it into a trash bag.
