Lock My Boyfriend and His Manipulative Ex-girlfriend Together

My boyfriend threw a party to celebrate my birthday.

During the event, he played the papertearing game with his exgirlfriend.

When the tissue fell, they kissed passionately.

After the kiss, my boyfriend smiled gently and said, "Still so sweet."

When others noticed me, their expressions seemed awkward.

I couldn't pretend I didn't see, so I approached her and asked curiously, "How sweet was it?"

It was my birthday and also my anniversary with my boyfriend, Mark Smith.

He said he had prepared a surprise for me and asked me to arrive on time.

When I got to the bar, I saw an unexpected surprise.

He and his friend were playing the papertearing game.

In this game, one person holds the paper in their mouth while the next person tears away half of it with their mouth.

The girl next to him was his ex, Rachel Quinn.

I wasn't sure if it was the tissue's fault or the ambiguous atmosphere, but the moment Rachel tore the paper from Mark's mouth, the tissue fell, and their lips suddenly touched.

What's even more ridiculous is that after they separated, Mark licked his lips, looking as if he was still unsatisfied, and said to Rachel, "Still so sweet."

I don't know which of his friends noticed me first, but one of them shouted, "Ah, our birthday girl is finally here..."

A hint of panic flashed across Mark's eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

"Molly, why are you just arriving? We have been waiting for you for a long time. Come, let me introduce you to..."

I didn't agree with him as I had before.

At that moment, I didn't want to deceive myself any longer.

"How sweet was it?"

"What's sweet? Molly, do you want to eat cake? I'll..."

I interrupted him.

"Mark, what are you still pretending for? I saw everything. Let me ask you, how sweet is Rachel Quinn's mouth? Do you want her to give you another kiss so you can savor it?"

At that point, Rachel stood up.

"Molly, we were just playing a game. You can't be so petty. Mark and I are just friends now; we have already talked it out."

Just friends?

I laughed.

"What kind of friends kiss each other like that?"

In an instant, the atmosphere became tense.

"Molly, I know you won't overthink this. We all move in the same circles. Rachel and I were together when we were young and naive. You understand our relationship; it was innocent and uncomplicated."

When I heard Mark's words, I laughed out loud.

Perhaps it was because I always seemed goodnatured in front of Mark and his friends.

They actually thought my smile meant understanding and forgiveness.

One of Mark's friends chimed in, "Rachel, you didn't catch the tissue just now, so you have to drink three glasses of wine as punishment."

Before Rachel could respond, Mark defended her.

"You all know that Rachel is allergic to alcohol and can't drink it. Forget it; give me the wine, and I'll drink it for her."

After we finished drinking, he explained to me nonchalantly, "Molly, you won't mind, will you? I'm just helping my good friend avoid drinking. If it were you, I would help you too. But you can handle more than I can, so you don't need my help."

"I really don't need your help. I can handle everything on my own."

"That's not true. I can assist you with those matters. I can bring you a level of happiness like no other."

After saying this, he even flashed a malicious smile.

I was slightly taken aback.

I never expected him to say such things to me on this occasion.

Mark's friend noticed something was wrong and spoke up for him.

"Molly, don't worry about it. Mark must have had too much to drink and is a bit tipsy. You know, he can only get drunk after three glasses of wine."

Yes, if his friend hadn't told me, I would have forgotten about Mark's low alcohol tolerance.

Every time he comes to hang out, he's the one drinking milk while everyone else has wine.

This time, he drank three glasses for his socalled good friend, but he wouldn't even have half a glass for me.

He made an excuse that it was because I can drink a lot without getting drunk.

The truth is, Mark can't handle much wine. He's not cut out for it.

I guess it's not that he can't drink, but that he's drinking with the wrong person.

At this point, a drunk Mark was leaning back in his chair to rest.

Watching this scene unfold, I felt it was extremely ironic.

Rachel looked at Mark with worry in her eyes.

I turned around and prepared to leave.

Rachel called me, saying, "Molly, what do you mean? Mark asked us to prepare a birthday surprise for you early this morning. He is drunk and feeling uncomfortable now, but you want to leave. Do you love him or not? Someone like you doesn't deserve him at all..."

I sneered.

"You're right, I don't deserve him. You're the only one who should be his girlfriend. So, I've decided to help you two. Congratulations! You no longer have to pretend to be his good friend and do things couples do. After all, you're not happy acting, and I feel sick watching you."

"Oh, and by the way, I didn't ask him to give me a birthday surprise. He proposed it on his own. If you're jealous, when you two are together, you can ask him for another one."

Her face turned pale instantly, and she stammered, "I... I didn't mean that..."

"What do you mean by 'you didn't mean that'? Mark has fainted, and you're still pretending in front of me. Who are you pretending for? By the way, I'm worried that your Mark will bother me when he wakes up. Please keep him under control and don't disturb me."

After saying that, I left without looking back.

Breaking up is always a personal matter.

In the past, I had poor judgment and mistook straw for treasure.

Now, I don't want to waste my time on this worthless situation.

I find it repulsive.

As soon as I stepped outside, I received a call from the delivery man.

To celebrate this day, I had also prepared a surprise for Mark.

I took the box from the delivery man and felt a bit foolish.

Since Mark had mentioned that he liked this particular model, I had gone to great lengths and used several connections to obtain it for him.

However, unexpectedly, we broke up before I had the chance to give him the gift.

Before I could process my thoughts, a drunk man approached me, swaying as he walked.

His gaze felt greedy and intense.

I considered hiding, but he quickly rushed toward me.

"Sweetie... where are you going? Come, I will take you home..."

Suddenly, another man stepped in front of me and, in an instant, pinned the drunk to the ground.

I thanked him repeatedly.

When he turned his head, I realized I recognized him.

It dawned on me who he was.

It was Yates Clark, a friend Mark often mentioned.

Although he said he was fine, I noticed blood on his hands. It must have been from the drunk's counterattack.

I felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had been injured because of me.

"Yates, I'm so sorry you got hurt. There's no pharmacy nearby. If you don't mind, would you like to come home with me, and I can take care of it? Or I can take you to the hospital?"

As soon as I said it, I regretted my impulsiveness.

I had only been thinking about treating his wound quickly, but I realized that Yates and I were not familiar with each other at all.

We had barely exchanged a few words.

Just as I was about to apologize for my forwardness, he spoke up.

"Hmm... Is it inconvenient to disturb you so late?"

"It's fine. It's just me and my dog at home. Let's go."

I thought that, given his personality, he would not agree to come with me.

After all, he is the most reserved among Mark's friends and seems uninterested in anything.

When I first saw him, I even wondered if he was mute.

I expected our time together to be awkward, but surprisingly, he actively sought out topics to discuss.

The conversation started off a bit awkwardly.

He asked hesitantly, "Um... are you... okay?"

When people are feeling down, sudden concern can be overwhelming.

I felt my eyes welling up for no clear reason.

Perhaps it was because I wasn't very familiar with Yates, which made it easier to open up.

I began to share my frustrations about Mark and Rachel.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just a little sad. But it's okay. I've been considering breaking up with Mark for a while now. I just felt reluctant after being together for so long. But today, I've finally let go."

"Yates, as an outsider, do you think Mark and Rachel are in the wrong? I've never seen two good friends kiss so passionately like that..."

Throughout the journey, he listened patiently, allowing me to vent my feelings.

As we neared my door, I casually asked, "Yates, do you think they are going too far?"

"Yeah, that's quite excessive," he replied.

At that moment, I found Yates more appealing.

As soon as I opened the door, my dog bolted out.

To my surprise, the dog pounced on Yates.

"Hey, my lucky dog really likes you! I've never seen him react like this with anyone else."

Yates didn't say anything, but I noticed the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile.

Seeing that my dog "Lucky" and Yates were getting along well, I left them be.

I brought a stool directly from the dining room and planned to take the medicine box on top of the cabinet.

As I was coming down from the stool, my foot suddenly twisted.

Just when I thought I was about to hit the floor, Yates quickly hugged me.

I subconsciously did a somersault.

His body stood straight, as if he was in military training.

"Thank you, Yates. I'll take care of your wound," I said.

"It's fine," he replied.

I don't know if it's my imagination, but Yates' tone sounded very pleasant.

I quickly spoke out my thoughts.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No," he said, looking straight at me.

I don't know why, but at this moment I felt inexplicably hot.

Lucky then rushed in between us, interrupting our eye contact.

He is indeed my good dog.

But the next second, Lucky actually started yelling at Yates.

"Lucky, what are you doing! Don't bully others," I scolded.

Yates didn't seem to care about Lucky's attitude, but asked me an irrelevant question.

"Is Lucky treating Mark the same way?"

"No, Lucky really hates him and even bit him," I replied.

He didn't say anything else.

I carefully treated his wound.

I consider the place where I live to be a bit remote, making it difficult to get a taxi.

After treating Yates' wound, I asked him, "It's hard to get a taxi here. How about I drive you back?"

Upon hearing this, Yates' expression turned cold, and his brows furrowed.

"Are you this nice to everyone?" he asked.

I felt a bit confused by his response, but I explained myself seriously.

"No, it's just that my place is a bit far away, and it might be hard to get a taxi right now. I thought you were injured because of me, so I feel responsible for you."

After I spoke, Yates visibly brightened.

He replied cheerfully, "No need to send me off. Just go to bed early."

Considering how he had frowned just moments before, as if he were hiding something, I decided not to press further.

"Okay, then be careful, and I'll treat you to a meal another day," I said.

He nodded, gave Lucky a gentle pat on the head, and left.

Once he was gone, I began to cry loudly.

Mark and I had been together for a year, and it would be a lie to say I wasn't sad.

However, my reason told me that ending the relationship was the right choice.

Mark claimed to love me, but he was also being ambiguous with his socalled good friend Rachel.

He was greedy, wanting both of us.

His behavior showed a complete lack of respect for our relationship.

His drunken comments might have revealed his true feelings toward me.

It wasn't love; it was desire.

As I cried, I packed away the gifts he had given me.

I had cried enough, and I had gathered all his things. It was time to let go.

The next day, I messaged my best friend.

I thought it would be nice to get together for dinner in the evening to unwind.

To my surprise, I received an invitation from Yates.

He asked me to have dinner with him tonight.

Given the favor he had done for me in the past, I agreed.

I made reservations at a wellreviewed restaurant.

When I saw him that evening, I couldn't help but feel something was off.

Although Yates is goodlooking, his style has always been more mature.

At least every time I've seen him, he's dressed in professional black, white, and gray.

But tonight, he was dressed unusually bright and cheerful.

Almost like a colorful butterfly.

Noticing me staring at his outfit, Yates was about to say something.

At that moment, I saw the last person I wanted to see.

Mark came rushing towards our table.

"Molly, what's the meaning of this? Did you break up with me because of Yates? How could you do this to me? He's my friend! What do you see in him? His money? His looks?"

Mark's words completely erased any remaining goodwill I had for him.

"Mark, don't you know why we broke up? Didn't your dear friend Rachel tell you? You still want to pretend to be confused? What's the matter? After acting in front of your friend, now you want to act in front of me too? How can a grown man like you be so shameless?"

"And even if I did like Yates, so what? Relationships are between two people; my relationship with him is none of your business! I'm not cheating; I'm not like you..."

Mark seemed surprised that I, usually so gentle, would speak to him like this.

"I've already explained it to you, haven't I? Rachel and I are just friends; nothing is going on between us. That kiss yesterday was just because of a game. You know how it is; bar games are just a few types; you've played them before. Why are you making a fuss now?"

"Am I making a fuss? Mark, you're quite ridiculous. Yes, I've played those games, but I didn't have a boyfriend at the time. But you? You clearly had a girlfriend, yet you're entangled with your ex's good friend, playing these ambiguous games. Did you ever consider my feelings?"

At this moment, a familiar female voice interrupted.

"Molly, didn't you say you wouldn't mind me and Mark? I swear, Mark and I really have nothing going on. What do you want me to do to make you believe us..."

As she spoke, Rachel emerged from behind Mark.

She was wearing exquisite makeup, and anyone who didn't know would think she was on a date.

"Oh? Will you do whatever I say?"

"Of course."

"Then you should cut off ties with Mark."

As soon as I finished speaking, Mark looked anxious.

"No way, Molly! Rachel and I have known each other since childhood; how can we just cut off so many years of friendship? Plus, our parents know each other..."

A hint of triumph flashed in Rachel's eyes, but her face was full of difficulty.

"Molly, it's not that I don't want to; it's that Mark doesn't want to..."

After saying that, Rachel glanced at Mark, her eyes full of affection.

The way they were acting made me want to vomit.

"Enough! Stop pretending to be deep friends in front of me; it's disgusting. I'm breaking up with you now, Mark. Isn't this a perfect excuse for you to strengthen your relationship with your good friend? Don't worry; I won't ask you to thank me; just do me a favor and don't show up in front of me again to make me sick."

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to congratulate you. I wish you both a deep friendship and to be good friends for life."

After I finished speaking, Rachel glared at me.

Mark, on the other hand, was so furious that his face turned dark.

"Fine, Molly, you'll regret this."

Regret?

Normal people wouldn't regret it.

I didn't respond.

After a while, Mark suddenly smiled and said to me.

"Molly, stop pretending. I know you still care about me; otherwise, why would you be so angry and not leave? I told you. Women are always like this..."

How did I not notice before how thickskinned Mark is?

The restaurant I booked, and he comes to provoke me, wanting me to leave?

Since you don't want the face I gave you, don't blame me for being heartless.

I turned and complained to the staff, saying they were harassing me.

The staff unceremoniously kicked them both out.

Soon after, the dishes arrived.

I was just thinking about politely introducing Yates when he picked up his spoon.

He began to serve me dish after dish, all of them my favorites.

I wanted to say something, but his expression looked cold, as if he was unhappy.

So, I simply didn't ask.

This meal was just me repaying the favor I owed him.

As soon as I finished eating, I received a voice message from Rachel.

I had planned to block her directly, but accidentally pressed play.

"Mark, don't be sad; it's Molly who doesn't deserve you and doesn't understand your goodness."

"Hmm... It's okay; I didn't like her much anyway. Only you, only you understand me, Rachel..."

The last sound was a distinctly clear sound of them kissing.

What a bad omen!

Yates' expression grew increasingly cold.

A thought suddenly flashed through my mind.

Could it really be true?

Was it possible that Yates has feelings for Rachel...

What a chaotic situation this is...

I had been so serious in my criticisms earlier...

Feeling a bit guilty, I started drinking the fruit wine on the table.

I have always had a good alcohol tolerance, so I kept drinking one glass after another.

As long as I kept drinking, I wouldn't have to face Yates' questions.

But after a few glasses, I began to faintly sense something was off.

I was actually starting to feel a bit dizzy.

"Molly, I think you've had too much to drink," Yates said with concern.

He seemed genuinely worried, though I couldn't tell if it was just my imagination.

"No... no, my alcohol tolerance... you... you don't know, right... I can drink anyone under the table..."

For some reason, my speech was becoming uncontrolled, my tongue feeling a bit tangled.

"You've had too much. Let me take you home," he said.

"Home? Whose home? Yours? Mine? Hmm... or maybe your place would be better."