She Just Wanted the Bag

Today marks the ninety-ninth day Emerald and I have been together. I had been preparing for a long time for our one-hundred-day anniversary tomorrow. Last month, I asked a friend overseas to get me a globally limited-edition handbag, priced at six hundred thousand, with fewer than five in the entire country. Before going to bed, I sent Emerald a message telling her there was a gift waiting for her tomorrow. Her reply was cold; she only said, "Oh." I didn't think much of it and just assumed she was playing hard to get. After all, whenever I gave her gifts before, she always pretended not to care. Early the next morning, I brought the gift box to the restaurant where I had arranged to meet Emerald Lawrence. She was already there, sitting by the window, her expression pale. I pushed the gift box toward her with a smile and said, "Happy anniversary." Emerald Lawrence unwrapped the gift box, and when she saw the handbag, a brief glimmer appeared in her eyes. But that glimmer quickly vanished, replaced by a cold distance. "Frederick, let's break up." Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water, chilling me to the bone. I was stunned for a few seconds before I realized what she meant. "Why?" I asked, my voice filled with confusion. Emerald said nothing; she simply stood up to leave. Instinctively, I grabbed her hand, thinking she didn't like the style. "Don't you like this bag? I can exchange it for another one. You pick whichever you like." The moment I said that, Emerald's expression instantly darkened. "Frederick, what do you mean by that?" She stared at me, her eyes filled with anger. "I didn't mean anything else; I just wanted to get you something you truly like." I hurriedly explained. But she didn't listen at all—she just took the bag and left. I wanted to say more, but she had already turned and quickly walked out of the restaurant. Looking at the lonely gift box on the table, I felt both angry and confused. I didn't know where I had gone wrong to make her misunderstand me like this. In the following days, I messaged and called Emerald Lawrence multiple times but received no response. She blocked my number and even changed her phone. As I passed by a secondhand luxury store, I was drawn to the figure in front of the counter. It was Emerald Lawrence. And in her hand was the limited edition bag I had given her. I instinctively hid behind a shelf, listening to her conversation with the shop owner. "How much can you give me for this bag?" Emerald's voice was filled with urgency. The owner carefully examined the bag and offered a price: "At most 420,000, since it's secondhand, and not everyone wants a limited edition." "420,000 is too low. It's brand new; I only got it a few days ago." Emerald Lawrence frowned as she argued back. "The brand new ones were also gifts from others, and without a purchase receipt, the price can't be raised." The boss was resolute. Emerald was silent for a few seconds before gritting her teeth and agreeing, "Fine, 420,000. Transfer the money now." Watching her hurry away after receiving the transfer, a chill ran down my spine. It turned out that her reason for breaking up was never about the handbag's style. From the very beginning, she only wanted to get the bag so she could sell it for cash. I clenched my fists, filled with anger and bitterness over being deceived.