Bran and I had known each other for five years, from college to the altar. Everyone around us seemed to envy what we had—our love was the kind people whispered about, the kind that felt like a fairy tale.

"A perfect match," they said. "A handsome man and a beautiful woman, a match made in heaven."

I'd heard it all before, but I never let it sink in.

Deep down, I knew the truth: Bran's heart wasn't entirely mine.

He'd known Mia for ten years—five years longer than he'd known me.

What baffled me was how they acted. They called each other "buddies," as if their relationship was so pure it couldn't possibly be tainted by anything as messy as romance.

Later, they even ended up at the same university, in the same major. But for some reason, Bran decided to chase after me—a girl from a completely different department—during his freshman year.

Back then, I was still naive enough to believe in campus romance.

Bran was handsome, with a gentle temper and a polite demeanor. He was the kind of guy everyone liked.

So, when he asked me out for the second time, I said yes.

A week into our relationship, I noticed something—or rather, someone—who didn't quite fit.

Mia. She was ordinary-looking, with a delicate face and short hair.

She always called me with intimacy, but then she'd sling an arm around Bran's shoulder and say, "Bran, you're amazing! You found such a beautiful girlfriend so quickly. Got any tips of love to share with me?"

Mia was a head shorter than Bran, so when she hooked her arm around his shoulder, her mouth naturally got close to his ear.

The closeness in their breathing was intimate, yet Bran seemed completely unfazed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I saw it once, and then again, and again.

I couldn't understand why Bran, after having a girlfriend, still kept such a close female friend.

At first, I thought I was overthinking it and mentioned it to him a few times in private.

To my disappointment, Bran's response left me speechless.

"Mia and I have been best friends for five or six years. We've always interacted like this. I can't just distance myself from her because I have a girlfriend. That would be an insult to our pure buddy relationship!"

I also talked to Mia about this.

Her response made her seem... clueless.

"What are you talking about? Bran and I have been buddies for years. How did that turn into 'sticky love' in your mind? That kind of relationship is only for Bran to have with lovely girls like you!"

Mia paused at the end, as if realizing how ridiculous it sounded to call me a "lovely girl" when I was taller and more mature-looking than her.

Tsk, fine. I wouldn't get involved in their "pure buddy relationship."

I quickly suggested breaking up with Bran.

I thought we could part on good terms and never see each other again, but Bran, that stubborn man, refused to break up.

"Are you out of your mind? I've already said break up, break up, break up! Why do you keep coming to me every day?" Besides, It's one thing for you to block me alone," I pointed at Mia, my voice sharp, "but why do you bring your so-called good buddy with you? Are you a baby? Do you need a mommy to give you advice on everything?"

I finished speaking in one breath, my anger spilling out without pause.

Bran scratched his head, pretending to be innocent.

"I thought since you're both girls, she'd understand your emotions better, so I..."

Mia, hiding behind him, chimed in, "Yeah, Wendy, please don't misunderstand Bran..."

"Misunderstand? My ass!"

At that moment, I was in PE class, and in a fit of anger, I hurled the basketball in my hand straight at Bran.

Fate was the most mysterious thing in the world, and so was a weird relationship.

When my parents took me to apologize to Bran, it turned out that our families knew each other.

"Oh! You must be Wendy? You've grown so much! "Oh! Is that little girl Wendy? You've grown so much! I held you when you were just a tiny thing. Do you remember Hank?"

It turned out my dad Jack Russel and Bran's dad Hank Smith had been best buddies since college. If the Smith family hadn't gone overseas to start a business, Bran and I might have had an arranged marriage!

But my mom Sonia Russel's expression towards Hank was... strange.

She hid behind Jack, unusually silent.

Yet oblivious Jack didn't notice at all.

After some polite conversation, the adults quickly became aware of my relationship with Bran.

"Wendy, my boy here is just not good with words and doesn't know how to sweet-talk his girlfriend. If he ever does something to upset you, feel free to teach him a lesson."

"See," Hank flicked Bran's injured forehead, "that's how it should be. Let him learn a good lesson. But..." he added, his tone shifting, "don't miss out on a good match because of some unworthy people."

I stood in the hospital room, the sharp smell of disinfectant filling my nose, staring irritably at Bran, who was smiling sheepishly at me.

Was I blind back then?

How did I ever think this guy looked okay?

He really did look like his dad Hank!

I glanced at Hank again. Handsome, gentle, polite —but his gaze, sharp and calculating, was secretly fixed on Sonia.

That night, I went to Sonia's room to find her.

She sat in the large, luxurious bedroom, silently crying as she stared at the moon.

"Mom, what's wrong? You didn't say a word during dinner. That's not like you."

Jack had gone out for socializing again, and now this villa was the only place where I could have a heart-to-heart with Sonia.

"I'm fine," she said, wiping away her tears and forcing a smile. "I was just reminded of some painful memories from the past. Don't worry about me. Go to bed early; don't you have an early class tomorrow?"

I gently took Sonia's hand, speaking softly, "Mom, I saw everything today. Bran..." As soon as I mentioned his name, she shuddered, her body stiffening as if struck by an invisible force.

"Stop! Don't say it!" she cried, her voice trembling.

I stayed by her side until she finally fell asleep, her breathing steady but her face still etched with unease.

Bran and I reconciled again, thanks to Hank's oddly enthusiastic matchmaking.

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