He attended the class reunion, suffused in this halo of success and accomplishment. And, by his side, was his beautiful girlfriend.
She said, "If you hadn't let go back then, you would have been the lady of the Farrell Group now."
Sitting across from her, holding his girlfriend, he responded flatly, "It's all in the past."
Smelling drama, the crowd began to stir up trouble.
Under his gaze, I quietly covered the scar on my wrist and forced a smile. "Yeah, we are... long over."
"I remember it was Olivia who asked to break up back then, right?"
As his girlfriend went to the restroom, the classmates started gossiping.
The "Olivia" they mentioned was me.
Jefferson sat across from me, with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, yet his eyes could not have looked colder.
This was our first meeting, six years after the break-up.
Everything was rather unexpected.
It was only because of the class president's "Jefferson's not coming" that I decided to show up.
Unexpectedly, I would meet him here.
A remarkable young entrepreneur in the city, the current Jefferson Farrell was successful and famous.
Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, with a handsome look.
The watch on his wrist was worth a fortune.
Everyone was admiring it.
As for me, I was no longer what I used to be.
"You're right, she was the one who proposed the breakup."
Jefferson answered everyone's doubts calmly.
Everyone had their speculations, including but not all: a money digger who couldn't take a little bit of hardship, or, she chose the wrong person, and now she'd lost the Great Gatsby life that could've been hers.
...
"Olivia, I heard the person you followed afterward went in, right?"
"And you even took on his debt for him. Are you here to borrow money at this reunion?"
In the face of everyone's mockery, Jefferson's calm and deep eyes always landed on me, silently.
I smiled awkwardly without responding.
The door was pushed open, and Jefferson's girlfriend returned. Sensing the strange atmosphere, she smiled and asked, "What did I miss?"
......
Jefferson changed his silence from earlier and gently took her hand. "It's nothing, just a little bit of reminiscing."
She sat down at ease, her gaze falling on me; her dimples appeared as a small smile played at the corners of her mouth.
"Jefferson told me you. If you hadn't let go back then, you would have been the lady of the Farrell Group now."
Smirks of schadenfreude surfaced on many faces.
In those years when the Taylor family had been at its prime, I had been the center of attention wherever I went.
This jealousy wouldn't fade with time but may instead turn into their reason to gloat when I was in trouble, years later.
Jefferson, with a voice clear, cold, and irresistible, broke the awkwardness: "It's all in the past."
Everyone fell silent, understanding that the big shot didn't want to continue this subject and began discussing other things.
His girlfriend toasted me. "Here's to your graciousness in letting go. You must come to our wedding. Salud."
I quietly covered the scar on my wrist and responded woodenly, "Congratulations."
