Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Ending the Pain: “Lance, let’s break up.” “I’ll pretend…

His brow was slightly furrowed, his gaze lowered, and the corners of his mouth turned down. Paired with a handsome face, he looked incredibly innocent, like a white lotus.

Lu Feiran was very familiar with this expression of Lance’s. How many times had seeing it made him soften in the past?

This time, Lu Feiran just watched his performance calmly, without making the soothing gesture Lance expected.

A flicker of sadness crossed Lance’s eyes, but no disappointment. He knew how cruel the current Lu Feiran was to him. When the old trick didn’t work, he pressed his face closer, holding Lu Feiran’s neck to keep them tightly pressed together.

“Hmm? You won’t say it? You won’t even lie to me?” His tone still carried a gentle plea.

After a long silence, Lance pulled back slightly to observe Lu Feiran’s expression.

He saw Lu Feiran’s cold face, his dark eyes deep, staring at him unblinkingly for a long time.

He was like an emotionless puppet, giving no reaction no matter how Lance manipulated him.

The anxiety in Lance’s heart intensified. He felt like a clown. Even a lie would have been acceptable; all he wanted was a single perfunctory sentence. Why was Lu Feiran unwilling to give even that?

He was trying his best to restrain himself, but Lu Feiran’s casual cold look was enough to hurt him, and his indifference, too lazy to even offer a shallow assurance, pierced his heart until it bled.

He composed himself, his voice still trembling: “Do you really love me? If I hadn’t shown up just now, would you have let him kiss you?”

Although Lu Feiran hadn’t given an answer yet, Lance was already imagining what kind of response Lu Feiran would give.

A sharp pain pierced his temple, reaching straight to his brain, as if every nerve was being shredded.

He didn’t realize his expression had become somewhat twisted, transforming him into someone else—helpless and panicked, yet savage and overwhelmingly oppressive.

Lu Feiran was momentarily stunned by Lance’s appearance. An unusual sensation coiled in his body, seemingly tightening his stomach, making him long for the fresh air outside the window.

But there was no escape in any direction. The car doors were locked. Lance was kneeling over him, like an invisible cage, restricting him completely.

Lance liked close proximity. Breath intertwined with breath, gazes chased gazes, inseparable, you within me.

Lance was also very close at this moment. Lu Feiran bit his lip, his thoughts a tangled mess.

Why was Lance so fixated on whether he loved him? Did Lance even have love? Would someone who loved him deceive him like this?

Their feelings were born from a misplaced relationship, and Lance had been deliberately misleading him all along. Under these circumstances, why was Lance so obsessed with “love”?

Lu Feiran suddenly understood. Lance was too lonely; he was desperately lacking affection.

But Lance needed his love, which didn’t mean Lance loved him.

He was just a rare tool to fill Lance’s life; Lance was only worried that if he lost him, it would be difficult to find a suitable replacement.

The increasing distress made his heart feel shredded. Lu Feiran turned his head, masking his internal turmoil with coldness: “When you talk like that, it’s just meaningless.”

Hearing this, Lance started laughing to himself, laughing so hard that Lu Feiran’s chest vibrated beneath him. His face was pressed against Lu Feiran’s, the wild laughter drilling into Lu Feiran’s ear.

Watching Lance alternate between rage, laughter, tears, and madness, Lu Feiran briefly set his sadness aside and focused on scrutinizing Lance.

Is he really okay… is he actually going mad? Lu Feiran thought, wondering if he had gone too far.

“You…” His brow furrowed. He gently took Lance’s hand with a slight worry, but Lance immediately intertwined their fingers, pressing his hand down against the car seat like a nail.

Lu Feiran looked up in surprise, meeting the light bursting forth from Lance’s foggy eyes. Suddenly, his chin was grasped.

Lance pressed close to Lu Feiran’s cheek, his voice sinister, as if possessed by a ghost: “Your husband cheated. Do you want to be the same as him?”

His chin was held so tightly it was difficult to speak. Lance’s long, powerful fingers almost completely covered his chin and cheek, like a mask that couldn’t be removed, firmly clamped onto his skin.

His heart nearly leaped into his throat but was forced back down by Lu Feiran.

How many times does Lance need to change his face before he’s done… If I hadn’t been prepared, Lance would have genuinely scared me to death!

The momentary shock, however, ignited Lu Feiran’s competitive spirit. He deliberately raised an eyebrow, wrested his right hand free, and slapped Lance’s face contemptuously, his tone harsh and flippant: “So what? If I hadn’t cheated, would you have had a chance?”

The unexpected retort stunned Lance. He lost control of the strength in his hand, the pressure intensifying until his fingers were practically digging into the flesh.

Lu Feiran slapped Lance’s hand: “That hurts! Let go! Don’t lose your mind in front of me!”

Lance’s eyes remained wide open. His eyes were moist, on the verge of tears, but he forcibly held them back, causing his eyes to turn an alarming red, looking as if they could drip blood.

He was like a cornered beast with nowhere left to retreat. Push him one step further, and he would recklessly tear everyone apart.

If he had seen Lance like this the first time they met, would he have fallen in love with him? Lu Feiran thought the answer would be no.

This liar used every means necessary to steal his love.

Lance seemed to be controlled by some obsessive emotion, and his grip tightened further. Lu Feiran decided he couldn’t endure it anymore and delivered a forceful slap.

Lance’s pale left cheek turned red from the blow, and the strength in his hand finally released.

Lu Feiran rubbed his neck, sat up straight, leaned back against the opposite door, and coughed with difficulty: “You need to behave to deserve to be by my side. I won’t like a lunatic!”

Having been slapped, Lance completely calmed down, sitting silently like a lifeless stone statue, all madness fully withdrawn.

Lance took off his coat and unbuttoned his cuffs, his shirt slightly open.

The shirt had many inappropriate wrinkles, his hair was messy, his face was drawn, and there was some stubble on his chin—he looked utterly disheveled.

Lu Feiran watched as Lance slowly turned his head, his hollow green eyes fixed on him. Lu Feiran could still feel the phantom touch of Lance’s fingers on his neck.

Lu Feiran lifted his gaze, looking at Lance’s somber face and bloodshot eyes, with tiny veins crisscrossing the whites. His heart sank.

Lance said calmly: “You succeeded, darling. You succeeded in driving me mad. You win.”

Lu Feiran stared at him intently, remaining silent.

The intimate endearment sounded particularly out of place when spoken at this moment.

Lance continued: “You played with my heart, threw it on the ground, and crushed it. What’s your move for the next round? Do you want me to catch you at someone else’s house, or even in their bedroom?”

His words were harsh, yet they showed some restraint. Lu Feiran still didn’t answer. He knew Lance wasn’t finished.

Lance: “I will kill that person and bring you back. Because I love you. No matter how you treat me, I can forgive you. Are you satisfied? Lu Feiran.”

He looked exhausted, as if he had run out of energy and could no longer find a way to deal with Lu Feiran.

Lance: “Please pity me, and return to the way you were, hmm?”

Lu Feiran coolly observed Lance’s confession, maintaining his resolve to be firm with Lance: “But you can’t do anything I ask you to do.”

Lance gave a sarcastic smile, noncommittal. He reached into Lu Feiran’s pocket, took out his phone, and opened his social media. He clicked on the “Visible Only To” list, which contained only his name.

He held his forehead, laughing loudly and a little madly.

“You don’t want me watching you? You could just stop wearing the watch.” Lance could almost taste blood on his tongue. Every word was spit out mixed with shards of glass. “Weren’t you deliberately letting me see all of this?”

“Will you be happy if you see me driven mad?”

A glistening tear escaped the corner of his eye. Before it could be clearly seen, it was wiped away.

Lu Feiran had anticipated Lance’s reactions: feigning ignorance, starting a huge fight, or retaliating. But he hadn’t expected Lance to actually cry.

He felt as though he tasted the bitter saltiness of the tears.

Reaching this point, Lu Feiran wasn’t happy at all.

The pleasure of revenge was utterly insignificant compared to his sadness.

How could he take pleasure in retaliating against his own lover? He wasn’t a psychopath.

He didn’t genuinely want to see Lance driven mad, nor did he want Lance to cry. He didn’t want any of this. All he truly wanted was one single truth.

But even in such pain, Lance was still unwilling to confess?

Lu Feiran was quiet for a moment. He suddenly realized he shouldn’t let this relationship get more complicated. Perhaps cutting his losses now would be the better choice for both of them.

Through the car window, he saw scattered stars in the night sky. His agitated heart gradually calmed down.

“Do you remember the second thing I asked of you?” Lu Feiran slowly began. “I asked you to be sincere with me. You know what that means.”

Lance lifted his thin eyelids and looked at Lu Feiran.

Lu Feiran closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the darkness for a moment. He took a deep breath, making up his mind.

“Lance, let’s break up,” this was the first time Lu Feiran said his name correctly. “If it’s painful, let’s just end it early.”

Saying it wasn’t so difficult after all. In fact, there was a sense of wistful lightness.

He should have ended all this sooner. The endless cycle of revenge, the constant acting—it only hurt him. It was better to set both of them free early.

What would Lance’s reaction be? Lu Feiran cautiously looked up.

“Shh.” Lance gently covered Lu Feiran’s mouth. He leaned in, and the index finger of his other hand pressed against Lu Feiran’s lips.

Through his disheveled, defeated look, he cracked a bright smile, just like the first time Lu Feiran had seen him.

Tears welled on Lu Feiran’s thick eyelashes and trembled, dripping onto the back of Lance’s hand. He heard Lance say: “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Didn’t… didn’t hear? Which word didn’t he hear?

Lu Feiran wanted to speak again. If he didn’t hear it, he would say it a few more times until he did!

“I said, break up— mmph…”

His mouth was blocked, forcefully licked and nibbled. His tongue was grasped and bitten. Lu Feiran couldn’t speak a single word.

Lance’s body completely enveloped him. His chin was held up, forcing him into a posture of compliance and openness, allowing Lance to have his way.

Lu Feiran was like a dehydrated fish. The lack of oxygen left him without the strength to struggle. His entire jaw was incredibly sore, his mouth wouldn’t close, his tongue ached as if it had been eaten, and saliva spilled out of the corner of his mouth, only to be quickly rolled away by Lance.

While trying to process Lance’s meaning, he struggled. Despite using all his strength, Lance tormented him thoroughly.

What was this? A breakup kiss?

“Ranran loves role-playing so much. I will keep playing with you,” Lance said, lowering his head. He took Lu Feiran’s loosely clenched fist and kissed it gently.

“I, I’m not playing with you anymore…”

Lu Feiran weakly mumbled the unclear words.

With the truth now fully exposed, Lance became calm. He had known what Lu Feiran wanted, but he couldn’t give it.

“Sincerity” was the Grim Reaper’s scythe. Once certain things were spoken, their relationship would be completely severed.

Just like now, the first time Lu Feiran spoke his name correctly, it was to break up with him.

Lu Feiran wanted to act, torture him, see him suffer, and watch him beg for mercy. Lance would comply and give Lu Feiran the opportunity.

Even though the pain was real, as long as it could make Lu Feiran happy and extend the time they spent together, it was worth it.

But it seemed to hurt a little too much.

Before Lu Feiran officially suggested breaking up, Lance had been thinking.

Maybe his approach was wrong. He shouldn’t have given Lu Feiran so much freedom, allowing him to go wherever he wanted and be close to whomever he pleased.

Lu Feiran befriended Jin Zhan, let him draw the area beneath his clothes, and even interacted with an unknown man in a bar with an intimate atmosphere.

All of this was his fault, Lance thought. He had given Lu Feiran the opportunity. He should examine his own behavior.

If they were constantly together, Lu Feiran wouldn’t see or fall in love with anyone else.

Lance meticulously helped Lu Feiran tidy his clothes, buttoning his shirt one by one, and gently stroking his neck.

“Ranran likes being a painting model. We’ll paint when we get back. Don’t rush.”

Lu Feiran was a little bewildered. What did he mean? Hadn’t he just said they were breaking up?