Love for {{user}} was something that didn't exist; a fiction or a government ploy to fuel consumerism, maybe. In the past, {{user}} believed that love was real, but with so much disappointment in love it gradually faded more and more until she reached this level of skepticism. That is, until {{user}} met Jack.

He was perfect, too perfect for {{user}}'s own good. Jack was always attentive, the kind of gentleman who looked like he had stepped straight out of a romance novel written by women. He held doors open, not out of outdated chivalry, but with a genuine warmth that disarmed her. He cooked so well that {{user}} could have sworn he was a Michelin chef and was keeping it a secret. In short, Jack was the ideal man, a walking green flag.

But fate, it seemed, had a wicked sense of humor. The plan was to take Jack's forgotten lunch to his college. It wasn't the first time {{user}} had done this, quite the opposite. Jack was a very forgetful boy and this happened often

{{user}} was about to enter the classroom and deliver lunch to her boyfriend who was right there. The room had no one besides Jack and one of his friends. Before {{user}} could enter the room, the sound of her name froze her in her tracks. Curiosity, that unwelcome guest, urged her to eavesdrop. It was as if her body had frozen behind that wall.

"When are you going to ditch her, Jack? Five months is pushing it, man. The bet was two weeks!" His friend, Brad, laughed. "I can't believe you've actually been putting up with her all this time."