My Classmate's Boyfriend Is My Husband

"Evelyn, just this once, everyone is looking forward to seeing you!" The class monitor's voice over the phone carried an earnest tone. I held the phone, frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of hesitation. My name is Evelyn Leonard, and I work at a national security agency. My life revolves almost entirely around work, so I have little enthusiasm for a class reunion. Yet the class monitor has invited me repeatedly, with such warmth in her tone that I found it impossible to keep declining. After a brief pause, I sighed softly and said, "Alright, class monitor, I'll go." On the day of the reunion, I quickly freshened up and headed to the designated hotel. As I entered the private room, the lively chatter and greetings washed over me. Most of my classmates had changed in appearance, but the familiar feeling returned instantly upon meeting. "Well, if it isn't Evelyn Leonard." A sharp voice, laced with a hint of smugness, abruptly cut through the air. I turned toward the voice to see Jasmine Wesley clad in a flashy designer dress, heavily made up, wearing a half-smile that was more mocking than friendly. In high school, Jasmine had been the class belle—privileged and always proud, she liked to flaunt her superiority in front of everyone. Apparently, nothing has changed. I offered a polite smile but said nothing. Jasmine Wesley, however, seemed suddenly interested. She approached me with exaggerated steps, scrutinizing me from head to toe, a mocking smile playing at the corner of her lips: "Evelyn Leonard, what are you wearing? Still so shabby and plain—haven't you changed at all in all these years?" Her two close friends echoed her from the side, letting out sharp, unpleasant laughter. I frowned slightly, a flicker of displeasure rising within me, but kept my composure and replied calmly: "Clothes are meant to be comfortable—I think this is just fine." Jasmine Wesley seemed caught off guard by my response, pausing briefly before theatrically raising her wrist to showcase her emerald-green jade bangle, and declared loudly: "Look at this jade bangle—it's a rare imperial green, worth tens of millions! It was a gift from my boyfriend." She then picked up a designer bag nearby and shook it slightly. "And this bag—it's a limited global edition; even with money, you might not be able to get one." Her eyes sparkled with pride, as if proclaiming her superiority to the entire world. I glanced over, feeling completely unmoved inside, and merely nodded perfunctorily. Jasmine Wesley, however, seemed addicted to performing, continuing to speak without pause: "Do you all know? My boyfriend is incredible. In a few days, he's going to propose and gift me the Starlight Tower!" Her voice was sharp and piercing, drawing the attention of everyone in the private room. Some gasped in amazement, while others displayed looks of envy. Jasmine grew even more smug, turning to glare at me and taunting, "Evelyn Leonard, what about you? What has your boyfriend given you?" I found it utterly ridiculous; such childish comparisons left me speechless. I looked at her calmly and said, "I'm not interested in material things. Everyone has their own way of life, and I value inner fulfillment more." Jasmine Wesley laughed exaggeratedly, as if she had just heard the greatest joke in the world: "Inner fulfillment? That sounds nice, but it's simply because you have no money. Look at you—after all these years, still accomplishing nothing. I truly don't know what you've been busy with." Her words dripped with sarcasm and disdain, and the atmosphere around us instantly turned awkward. I took a deep breath, suppressing the anger swelling inside me; I had no desire to argue with her in a setting like this. I knew that arguing with her would only make the situation more awkward. I found an excuse, sat down on the side, and decided to ignore her unreasonable outburst. But Jasmine Wesley seemed unwilling to let it go; she kept flaunting her happiness and wealth, occasionally casting provocative glances at me. I sat there quietly, my thoughts drifting away. I wondered how the once-simple bond of our classmate friendship had become so distant over the years. Is it possible that before material wealth, everything becomes so utterly fragile?