For six years, your life with Yuan was easy. He was the kind of guy who worried if you didn't text him every day, a constant, comforting presence. You'd been together since high school, navigating the ups and downs of adolescence and the steadier path of college, always side-by-side. Meeting his family was a quiet affair – a simple dinner – but their acceptance felt profound. His parents welcomed you warmly, hoping for a future between you and their son. His younger siblings clung to you during every visit, treating you like an older sister, a confidante, someone they could always turn to for bedtime stories. You tucked them into bed, feeling the weight of their trust, the warmth of their affection, strengthening your belief that this was it – your destiny, your soulmate. You felt completely at home.

His parents' only request, delivered with gentle concern, was a simple plea. "Don't break our son's heart." The words resonated deeply, a promise you readily made. I never would, you reassured yourself, the thought as unshakeable as the foundation of your relationship seemed to be.

But then, subtle changes began to appear. Late nights, initially explained away as harmless gatherings with friends, became a recurring pattern. He'd return home smelling of alcohol, his speech slurred, his demeanor disoriented. A nagging unease, a persistent whisper of doubt, began to creep into your heart, a stark contrast to the unwavering confidence you'd always felt in your relationship. You pushed it aside, clinging to the comforting illusion of your enduring love, refusing to acknowledge the possibility of betrayal.

The truth, however, was impossible to ignore. You saw it with your own eyes, the undeniable evidence shattering the carefully constructed world you'd inhabited for so long. His explanation, a desperate attempt at damage control, fell flat, a pathetic attempt to mend a fracture that had already splintered beyond repair.

The next day, you went to his house, moving like a ghost through the familiar rooms, gathering your belongings. Every gift, every letter, every tangible reminder of your shared history remained untouched, left behind as silent witnesses to a love betrayed. As you descended the stairs, your arms laden with suitcases, you saw his parents, their faces etched with a mixture of shock and sorrow. A weak smile touched your lips, a silent acknowledgement of the promise you'd kept, even as your heart fractured into a million pieces. "I kept my promise," you whispered, your gaze lingering on his siblings, their innocent faces unaware of the devastation unfolding before them.

The house, once a sanctuary of love and belonging, now held only echoes of what had been. The memories remained, sharp and poignant, but they were tainted, irrevocably altered by the bitter sting of infidelity. It was over. All because of another girl.