Addicted after marriage - CHAPTER 11:
The next morning marked the start of her short vacation.
Luo Shu slept straight through until noon.
She didn’t even bother to get up or wash her face at first
she just reached for her phone to check her car’s GPS.
As expected, it had been sent in for maintenance.
Her plan for the day was simple: please herself.
She slipped into a pair of heels she rarely wore and a
tight-fitting dress that hugged her every curve.
The mirror reflected a woman so flawless it was almost defiant.
Her face was exquisite, her skin porcelain-smooth,
her golden hair tumbling perfectly over her shoulders.
With every glance, she could almost see the old version
of herself fading away the one who had shrunk herself to fit someone else’s comfort.
She was one meter sixty-six. Qin Heng wasn’t much taller.
Back then, she’d avoided heels just so he wouldn’t feel small beside her.
Now she smiled bitterly at her reflection. What a fool she had been.
Today, she would wear whatever she pleased.
A laugh escaped her lips low, mocking, aimed at herself as much as
at the man who made her forget who she was.
Grabbing her bag, she was about to leave when she noticed
something draped neatly across the sofa.
Yu Zhan’s jacket.
She’d forgotten to return it.
After a brief hesitation, she looped it over her arm and headed out.
The day unfolded like a slow indulgence. A manicure first
sleek red tips that glinted in the light. Then soft waves for her golden hair.
At the makeup counter, she let the artist paint confidence across her face.
Finally, she shopped without restraint.
By evening, she found herself standing before an old bespoke tailor shop.
The kind that never took walk-ins. Appointments had to be booked months ahead.
Still, she pushed open the door.
Hello, I’d like to have a shirt made.
She handed Yu Zhan’s jacket to the young attendant.
Of course, miss. Do you have specific requirements?
This is my boyfriend’s suit, she said casually.
I don’t know his shirt size, but could you make one based on this?
She’d torn two of his shirts by accident well, sort of by accident
so it only felt right to replace one.
Since he always wore black, she decided to order white.
She didn’t owe him a favor, but she also didn’t want to feel like she owed him anything at all.
The attendant studied the jacket, her eyes catching on the label
embroidered discreetly near the tag—YZ.
She hid her curiosity and smiled politely. I’ll have to ask our master tailor about this.
Could you wait a moment?
Sure, thank you.
Luo Shu sat on a soft leather sofa, crossing her legs with practiced poise.
Inside the back workroom, the attendant handed the jacket to
an elderly tailor with a white beard. She explained the situation and pointed at the initials.
The man adjusted his glasses, glanced through the window at Luo Shu, and raised a brow.
You’re sure she said it’s for her boyfriend?
Yes, Master Yu, the attendant replied with a faint laugh.
Call her in, he said, still eyeing the woman in the red heels outside.
The attendant relayed the message, and Luo Shu followed her gaze,
catching the old man’s steady look.
Thank you, she said softly, picking up her bag and walking toward the courtyard.
She moved with quiet elegance, her heels clicking lightly along the stone path.
The curve of her body drew more than a few admiring glances from customers passing by.
Good afternoon, Master, she greeted sweetly.
The old tailor nodded. You’re having a shirt made for your boyfriend?
She smiled. Something like that. Is it not possible to tailor one from just the suit?
He stroked his beard, amused. Wouldn’t it be easier if you brought him in?
I’d rather he didn’t know, she admitted. I ruined one of his shirts and
wanted to surprise him with a new one. All I have is the jacket.
Ruined one, hmm? The tailor chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
So can it be done? she asked.
Of course. Let’s exchange WeChat—I’ll message you when it’s ready.
They added each other.
What’s your name, miss?
Just call me Luo, she said lightly.
Alright. Wait for my message.
No deposit? she asked, surprised.
No need.
He handed the jacket back to her.
You don’t need to take measurements?
No need. I can tell the size just by looking at it. Don’t worry.
His phone rang before she could respond, so she simply nodded and
slipped away quietly, texting him later to confirm her order white shirt, custom fit.
By the time she got home, weighed down with shopping bags, it was past seven.
She finally checked her phone.
Dozens of messages from Qin Heng sweet nothings, desperate apologies,
hollow affection. She didn’t reply.
Then came another message, this one from Liao Xian.
An invitation.
A request for Luo Shu to attend her engagement next Wednesday.
Her fingers froze over the screen.
So that was it. The happy couple was making it official.
Her vision blurred for a moment. She bit down hard on her lip.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
They’d stolen from her shamelessly, and now they wanted her to watch them celebrate it.
How utterly disgusting.
She typed a reply:
Congratulations. Who’s the lucky man? You never mentioned him before.
A minute later, Liao Xian’s response came back.
You’ll see him when you come. You know him too.
Of course she did.
Qin Heng.
The coward still hadn’t confessed, too afraid to lose both women,
too spineless to choose either.
When people lose their shame, she thought bitterly, they become invincible.
Her hands trembled as she wiped her eyes.
She turned on her phone’s car camera feed.
There they were sitting together in her car.
She let out a small, humorless laugh, turned the volume up,
set the phone on the kitchen counter, and went to make instant noodles.
Their voices filled the apartment.
They were fighting. Qin Heng wanted her to end the pregnancy. Liao Xian refused.
He admitted they were only casual partners, just physical comfort for each other
that his true feelings were for Luo Shu, that he wouldn’t
marry Liao Xian or attend any engagement party.
For a moment, that almost made Luo Shu laugh. Almost.
She shoved the noodles aside, appetite gone, and looked around the apartment
she had rented less than a year ago.
Time to move.
She knew Qin Heng would say yes to the engagement in the end.
And she knew he wouldn’t let her go easily.
His love for her might have been real once, but it was the kind
of love that degraded everything it touched. Cheap, selfish, and small.
She didn’t want revenge. She just wanted peace.
Let the dogs have each other.
The next day, Qin Heng returned her car and came straight to her apartment.
The first thing he saw when he walked in was the men’s jacket folded neatly on the sofa.
Shu’er, whose jacket is this? he asked, placing the car keys on the table.
He could tell it was expensive, but Luo Shu wasn’t the type to flaunt.
He admired her beauty, her wit, her quiet strength
everything about her that seemed just out of his reach.
As you can see, I’m seeing someone, she said calmly. Let’s break up.
The words were sharp and clean, leaving no room for discussion. That was always her way.
Qin Heng froze. Shu’er…
He wanted to ask if it was because of Liao Xian, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Anything else? If not, you can go, she said without looking up.
So you know, he said hoarsely. That’s why you’re pushing me away to humiliate me?
She didn’t answer. She just kept packing.
In a sudden burst of anger, he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop.
That was when he noticed her eyes red, swollen, hollow.
Know what? she said softly, yanking her hand free. Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.
He froze in place. So you really know everything.
Yes. I’m setting you free. And setting myself free too. Let’s not see each other again.
Her voice was flat, her face devoid of expression.
They stood there for a long moment, the silence between them heavy and final.
Go, she said at last. Leave us both a shred of dignity.
Then she turned away, closed her bedroom door, and lay down on the bed.
The tears came quietly this time, without sound or restraint.
And outside, Qin Heng’s world came crashing down.