Part 3I Let Go After My Boyfriend Chose My Sister

While I was cleaning up, my phone suddenly rang.

It was a call from Francesco.

His questions hit me like a torrential downpour the moment I answered.

"Ella, open the door! You actually changed the passcode to the lock? What the hell are you trying to do?"

I remained silent for a moment before speaking up slowly. "It doesn't mean anything, Francesco. Let's break up."

The man on the other end of the line acted as if he hadn't heard a single word I said. His voice was thick with suppressed rage.

"Nicole remembered that you love the dessert from this restaurant and specifically packaged a portion for you. Look at you. Not only did you change the passcode, but you won't even open the door when we knock!"

"Ella, can you grow up and stop making a scene?"

I smiled bitterly. Was he genuinely unable to hear my breakup request, or was he simply too used to treating all my emotions as a mere tantrum?

Just as I was about to say it again, he abruptly hung up the phone.

I let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

I could only blame myself. My love for him was public knowledge.

Even he was absolutely certain that I would never actually leave.

The next day, I went to the shopping mall to buy groceries and daily necessities for my new home. As I turned past a shelf, I bumped right into two people.

Francesco was holding shopping bags of various sizes, with Nicole walking closely by his side.

The smiles on their faces froze instantly the moment they saw me.

"Ella, don't misunderstand. Francesco was just worried I wouldn't be able to carry all this stuff, so he came along to help me shop," Nicole explained, reaching out to grab my hand.

Francesco pulled her back aggressively.

"There's no need to explain anything to her. She hasn't even apologized to us for what happened yesterday."

"Nicole, you're the one who spoils her too much. That's exactly why she's become so ungrateful."

Nicole looked at me with a worried expression, but she ultimately followed Francesco obediently toward the checkout counter.

Watching their retreating backs, I felt as if a piece of my heart had been hollowed out.

Francesco had never been willing to accompany me grocery shopping. He always complained that shopping was exhausting and tedious.

"If you need anything, just tell the butler to buy it for you," he used to say. "Why go out and exhaust yourself?"

Yet right now, he was perfectly willing to carry heavy bags for Nicole without a single complaint.

When we walked out of the mall, Francesco placed all the items into the trunk.

Nicole was the first to hop into the passenger seat, rolling down the window to wave at me.

"Get in. I'll drop you off on our way back," Francesco said naturally.

My gaze landed on the "Reserved for Girlfriend" sticker on the passenger seat. I had put that sticker there with my own hands.

Noticing my stare, he frowned, his tone dripping with impatience.

"Nicole has a back injury, and the passenger seat has more legroom. Go sit in the back."

He remembered every single one of Nicole's habits. He remembered her bad back, and he remembered her nut allergy.

But he completely forgot about the old back injury I had sustained from moving heavy luggage by myself last time.

A wave of bitterness rushed up my throat, but I forced my emotions down and spoke up.

"No thanks. We're not going the same way."

Hearing this, Nicole unbuckled her seatbelt. "Ella, stop letting your anger talk."

Francesco stopped her with his arm and let out a cold sneer.

"Since she doesn't want to get in, let's leave."

With those words, the engine roared to life, and the car sped away right in front of me.

When it came to me, Francesco never seemed to have even a shred of patience.