An Eleven Twins

I had been in a relationship with Jeffrey Gibson for eleven years. At a time in my life when I was least prepared for upheaval, he grew tired and found various excuses to push me to break up with him.

I was too exhausted to argue anymore, so I just looked at him quietly. "You want to break up with me so you can have a family with Laura Miller, right?"

Jeffrey's silence confirmed my suspicion, completely forgetting his past promise to build a home with me.

But eleven years had passed, and Jeffrey still hadn't given me a home.

I was ready to leave, utterly heartbroken, when he suddenly said he regretted it.

1

I stood alone in the sales office, staring intently at the model homes. A salesperson quickly approached me, asking, "Miss, are you looking to buy a house? This is a new development, and the surrounding area—"

I snapped back to reality and pointed across the glass at the two people. "No, I'm just watching my boyfriend."

The salesperson followed my gaze and saw the man and woman across the way, chatting and laughing. Though they maintained a proper distance, the subtle touch of their arms amplified the intimacy.

The salesperson tried to reassure me, "He's not with you to look at houses, but I judge by their attire that they must be colleagues. Maybe they both coincidentally want to buy a house. Your boyfriend is probably planning a surprise for you!"

I was taken aback and instinctively retorted, "That's impossible."

The salesperson couldn't tell if I was refuting the idea that they were colleagues or that Jeffrey was buying a house to surprise me.

I knew in my heart that I meant both.

I met Laura when I was about to leave the company.

I never expected to see her again, and she was on Jeffrey's phone wallpaper.

I discovered this when I had asked Jeffrey to look at houses with me, but he impatiently refused, claiming he was too tired from working late the night before. Yet that evening, he said he had to rush to the office for some urgent work.

A woman's intuition was often sharper than any tool.

We had been together since our freshman year, and eleven years of once passionate love now reduced to the daily grind of life's necessities.

But we knew each other as well as the lines on our palms, and any change in Jeffrey couldn't escape my notice.

Jeffrey hated losing sleep due to overtime, yet he seemed unusually cheerful heading to the office.

That night, he didn't reply to my messages and didn't come home.

When I asked him why he hadn't responded, he brushed me off with a tired excuse and went to shower, leaving his phone on the bed, vibrating occasionally.

Midway through his shower, his phone rang. Jeffrey urgently asked me to hand it to him.

I was a bit slow, and he lashed out, blaming me for potentially causing him to lose his job, saying if I wanted him to buy a house and marry him, I should forget it.

I stared at him in shock as he answered the call, his voice tense, as if nervous. "Don't worry, whatever it is, I'll handle it tomorrow. It won't come back on you."

After hanging up, Jeffrey still wasn't at ease. Despite his hands being covered in soap suds, he typed a reply to the other party, then placed the phone where he could easily reach it, checking it every five minutes.

I vividly remembered how he used to do the same when we first started dating. Even if he was in the shower, he would reply to my messages with soapy hands, proudly saying afterward, "I can't let my girlfriend feel insecure."

Now, Jeffrey was doing the same, only it wasn't for me anymore.

My heart pounded inexplicably, and I couldn't help but ask, "Yesterday, you said you were too tired to reply to me. Now, showering doesn't stop you from replying to someone else?"

Jeffrey paused for a moment, then said flatly, "That was my boss calling. You've quit your job, so you probably don't understand. I have to be vigilant now. I'm in the prime of my career. If I miss a call and lose my job, who will support you?"

Jeffrey's self-righteousness left me speechless.

But he seemed to forget that when we worked at the same company, my abilities were no less than his. It was he who asked me to quit my job to take care of his daily life, promising to support me.

I didn't expect that quitting my job would become a reason for him to mock me.

But quitting my job didn't make me foolish. I clearly heard a girl's voice on the other end of the call.

When Jeffrey unlocked his screen again, I caught a glimpse of the chat wallpaper, which was identical to the girl standing next to him now.

I was speechless.

I took out my phone and called Jeffrey, testing whether he would answer.

He glanced at it, and Laura leaned in, frowning as if scolding him, poking his chest. Her youthful demeanor made her appear charmingly innocent.

If I, a mature woman, acted like that, it would only come across as forceful and pretentious, inevitably leading to a quarrel.

Jeffrey chuckled lightly and unhesitatingly put his phone back in his pocket.

Unwilling to give up, I took video calls several more times. Jeffrey answered impatiently, "Let's talk about the house later. I'm working. If you have something to say, just say it, don't waste my time."

2

I opened my mouth to speak, but a soft, provocative voice came from the other side, "Hello, Jennifer. Mr. Gibson might be late after the meeting. I have some things I don't understand and need him to stay and teach me, okay?"

This obvious attempt to stake her claim was almost amusing.

I saw Jeffrey smile indulgently, cautiously moving the phone away as if to prevent me from hearing more.

Even so, I still heard Laura's light laughter, her voice calm and fearless, "I left the lipstick you gave me in the car yesterday. Remember to return it to me, or Jennifer might misunderstand you."

I was silent, knowing full well that Laura was reminding me she had long been a part of Jeffrey's life.