The Fickle Heart

When I got out of bed and went downstairs the next morning, I saw Carl sitting in the living room.

"Things were a bit hectic yesterday, Iris, so I wanted to have a proper talk with you today," he said.

He didn't look too good. With how heavy his dark undereye circles were, it seemed like he hadn't slept a wink last night.

I nodded before taking a seat across from him.

Previously, whenever Carl and I were together, I was always the one who had an endless stream of things to say. Whenever he got annoyed, he would use his hand to cover my mouth.

My heart would pound whenever my lips made contact with his hand. I would turn bright red and sit beside him in silence.

But now, I no longer wanted to revolve my life around him.

My love for Carl was over.

"I'll give you a sum of money. Consider it a token of my apology. Let's call off the engagement. Even if you refuse, yesterday's situation will just keep happening. Nothing can make me show up to get engaged to you," Carl declared before transferring a million dollars to me.

He even took my phone out and tapped in the password with great familiarity to confirm that the transaction had been completed.

Then, he exhaled deeply before flashing me a relieved smile.

"Fine," I said.

Carl was just about to continue speaking when his phone started ringing. The ringtone was unique—it was his cover of a love song.

He was a great singer. I once wanted to make his cover of this song as my dedicated ringtone on his phone, but he adamantly refused to oblige.

Now, when I saw Angela's name flashing on his screen, my heart filled with bitterness that couldn't be put into words.

His refusal hadn't been because he didn't want to do it. He simply didn't think I deserved it.

Carl took the call and answered in an exceptionally gentle voice.

"I accidentally burned myself while I was making breakfast, Carl. Can you take me to the hospital to get it checked?" Angela asked. Her voice was sweet, and she sounded a little teary.

"I'll be right there! Wait for me. Don't let your wound come into contact with anything!" Carl cried out.

He shot up anxiously and ran for the door. Just as he approached the door, he remembered me.

"We're even now, Iris," he said in an extremely curt tone. Without even waiting for my response, he walked out.

It was just as well. It was time for me to give up on him anyway.

That night, Henry invited me over to have dinner at the Moran residence.

When I arrived, Angela was bustling around the kitchen.

"You're here, Iris! So, you're the guest Uncle Henry mentioned, huh?" Angela said as she shot me a teasing wink.

Chuckling, I rolled up my sleeves and lent her a hand in the kitchen. Henry was a germaphobe, so it seemed like Angela was the one in charge of all the house chores.

When Carl arrived, he was startled to see me. Acting as if he didn't know me all that well, he greeted me stiffly.

Almost as if we had come to a tacit agreement, none of us mentioned the whole affair with the canceled engagement.

Throughout dinner, Carl kept serving Angela.

"Angie, the doctor said you need to avoid spicy food because of your injury," Carl said before shoving the plate of buffalo wings—the only spicy food on the table—toward me.

Our eyes met, and he hesitated briefly. Carl knew I couldn't eat spicy food, but he didn't care. Angela was all he cared about.

I was just about to take one of the buffalo wings when Henry stopped me.

"Hang on. I'll make you a sweet and juicy fruit salad," he said as he swiftly took the plate of buffalo wings away.

Still, as I watched Carl and Angela interacting with each other, I felt unusually bitter about it.