In the autumn rain of Seattle, I slipped and fell from a cliff. My boyfriend, Asher, chose to save his childhood sweetheart, Cassandra, first.

Just as I was succumbing to despair, his brother, Justin—the legendary musical prodigy—dived in and pulled me from the brink.

Later, he proposed with a cello piece he composed, "The Stars," its deep, resonant melody a vow to protect me for the rest of his life.

I married him. I became his one and only muse. Until a car accident, when, drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard his icy voice speaking to his brother.

"The miscarriage is a complication, but the marrow is still a match. The doctor said she’s strong—she can have the transplant as soon as she’s stable. Cassandra can’t wait any longer."

Asher asked him if he was insane.

He replied, "It's just a child. As long as she's mine, Kayla will always be mine."

In that moment, every kiss he had ever given me felt like a brand, searing his lies into my skin.

I realized my love story was just a meticulously orchestrated symphony, and I was nothing more than a tool for someone else's salvation. A cold resolve settled over me. If this was their game, I refused to be a pawn.

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1

Lying on the cold hospital bed, I pressed my hands against my flat abdomen. The pain of losing my child washed over me, a tidal wave threatening to pull me under.

My husband, Justin Thorne, stood beside me, his forehead beaded with sweat as he spoke urgently to the doctor. "Doctor, how is she? Does the miscarriage affect the donation? Please, whatever it takes. Cost, risks—I don't care. I'll sign anything."

His words hit me like a physical blow. So, for the perfect, flawless Cassandra Vance, he would sacrifice everything—including me and our unborn child. The reality of it shattered my heart into a million pieces.

Even my stoic ex-boyfriend, Asher Thorne, had a flicker of pity in his eyes, though he still spoke up for his fiancée. "Doctor, I'm begging you. She’s in the VIP ward, and her condition is worsening. She desperately needs this transplant."

The doctor’s grim expression fell upon me, still bleeding from the procedure. "She's lost a significant amount of blood. Rest is her priority. The transplant is off the table until she's made a full recovery."

Tears welled in Justin's eyes. He grabbed the doctor's sleeve, his voice ragged. "I need a definite timeline! When can she do it? Cassandra is running out of time!"

Asher came over and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, his voice strained. "Justin, get a grip. Kayla needs you. You can't fall apart on her now."

At his brother's words, Justin slowly turned toward me. His calloused thumb gently traced my chapped lips. Then, a single, cold tear landed on my cheek.

His voice was laced with a chilling counterfeit of pain. "Three years ago, I confessed my love to Cassandra with 'The Stars,' a piece I wrote for her. But she told me she loved Asher."

"I told myself, if I couldn't have her, I could at least clear the obstacles from her path. I found out you were the only perfect match, the only one who could save her. So I married you. I convinced you to have my child so that, if this day ever came, you'd be trapped. No escape."

Asher looked sickened, staggering out of the room without another word.

Justin leaned down, placing a deep, searching kiss on my forehead. His tone had never been so gentle. "Don't be afraid, darling. Even without this child, I will cherish you for the rest of my life."

He paused, then turned to the doctor, his voice firm. "Do whatever it takes to get her well enough for the surgery. As soon as possible."

The doctor, seeing he couldn't be swayed, simply nodded. "Understood."

As the nurse wheeled me back to my ward, a tear escaped the corner of my eye. I would have rather bled out on that cold operating table than ever face his suffocating, counterfeit affection again.

But fate denied my wish. I lost my baby at seven months, but I survived.

In a daze, I heard a nurse whisper, "I know the baby is gone, but you have family who loves you. You have to keep fighting, for them!"

The nurse's words were a shard of glass in my heart. She didn't know. My parents were gone. Justin was my only anchor in this world. He had been my everything.

But his promise of eternal love had been a lie. It had always, only, been for Cassandra.

When I finally managed to force my heavy eyelids open, the first thing I saw was a stark white ceiling.

My entire body throbbed with a deep, crushing ache. The pain was suffocating, but it was nothing compared to the profound emptiness in my abdomen.

I instinctively reached down, my hand finding only flat skin where my swollen belly had been. A hollow ache bloomed in my chest, as if a piece of my soul had been carved away.

"Darling, you're awake!" Justin, who had been keeping vigil by my bedside, shot up, his eyes bloodshot.

I turned my head away. I couldn't bear to look at his deceptively gentle face.

"We couldn't save our child," he said in a low voice, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "But thank God you're safe. I didn't lose you. Just pull yourself together. When you recover, we can have another baby!"

Bitterness rose in my throat. Was our child just a medical instrument for Cassandra? I shook my head weakly, a dull pain radiating through every nerve.

Justin tried to comfort me, forcing a smile. "You must be starving. Hold on, I'm heading to the record store to grab that limited-edition vinyl you wanted."

I stared into his smiling, gentle eyes, wondering how he could so perfectly conceal his devotion to another woman.

As night fell, he still hadn't returned.

When the nurse came to change my dressing, her eyes were filled with pity. "Has your family been by to see you?"

I took a deep breath and dragged my aching body to the fourth floor.

Through the glass of the VIP ward door, I saw him. Justin was gently placing that same vinyl record onto a player for Cassandra, who lay propped up in bed. His gaze was soft, utterly focused.

Cassandra's face was pale, but she was still arrestingly beautiful.

When she noticed me, she shot me a defiant look, then grabbed Justin's arm, cooing that she wanted to hear the song he wrote for her.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until I drew blood.

Justin picked up a pen. On the sheet music titled "For S," he crossed out the "S" and wrote, "Cassandra's Serenade."

A bitter sting flooded my senses, and tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable.

This proud man I had married was now kneeling before her like a devout worshipper. And I was nothing but a pathetic thief, coveting a happiness that had never been mine.

When he turned, with Cassandra in his arms, a flicker of panic crossed his face. He hastily let her go and strode toward me. "Darling, let me explain! Asher's swamped, so he asked me to watch over Cassandra for him."

"Where's my record?" I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper.

He handed me a regular CD, his tone apologetic. "Cassandra said she prefers the sound quality of vinyl, but the content is the same. Give it a try, darling. I'm sure you'll like it!"

Cassandra drifted over, her face pale, her voice soft. "Kayla, I didn't know that was your record. I'm so sorry."

Justin looked at Cassandra's frail form, his eyes swimming with love and pain. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, forcing down the words I wanted to scream.

"It's okay," I conceded. Did he forget that hearing those tender love songs would only make me weep for the child we lost?

When Cassandra was present, there was no room for anyone else in Justin's world. She was always his first priority.

There was a time I thought his gaze was reserved only for me.

Three years ago, when he rescued me from the waves, soaking wet, he knelt before me, revealing a sparkling ring shaped like a delicate musical note. "Kayla, let me spend the rest of my life composing a symphony just for you."

I remembered the pink diamond bracelet on Cassandra's wrist, the one he'd bought with his first prize money from an international competition.

I still remembered the thrill of watching his acceptance speech on TV. When the host asked for his source of inspiration, he had smiled brightly and replied, "I want to dedicate this to the muse in my heart, who shines as brightly as the stars!"

The audience was captivated. Even my best friend called, teasing me about having such a devoted husband.

But the star in his heart had never been me.

Asher was always swamped with business, so Justin took it upon himself to care for both me and Cassandra.

He kept his promise, buying me expensive art supplies and tickets to exhibitions. "Don't get the wrong idea. It's not that I don't care about you; it's just that Asher can't get away. Besides, he doesn't trust anyone else with Cassandra. You understand, right?"

Seeing my silence, he wrapped an arm around my waist, his warm breath grazing my neck. "Alright, don't be so cold. In a few days, I'll take you to Puget Sound to relax, just the two of us."

What he didn't know was that I wasn't angry. My heart was already dead, having died on the night my child was taken. Every word he spoke now was weightless, failing to stir even a ripple in my numb soul.

...

On the day we went to the sound, Cassandra and Asher came along.

The path to the shore was a rugged mountain trail, and Asher carefully supported Cassandra the entire way.

Justin’s brow furrowed when he saw them, his eyes dropping to hide the disappointment within.

"What's wrong, Justin?" I asked, slightly breathless.

He quickly regained his composure, crouching in front of me. "Darling, it's still a long way. You haven't fully recovered. Let me carry you."

My cheek rested against his broad back, his body heat seeping through his shirt. Every step he took was steady, as if he would never let me fall.

It reminded me of the day he swam through crashing waves to find me. In my daze, I thought I had found my prince.

"When I'm better, let's go to Florence to paint," I said softly, my arms looped around his neck.

He agreed without hesitation. "Okay. Wherever you want to go."

On our wedding anniversary, he had made the same firm promise to my parents: he would spend his life fulfilling my every wish.

Asher walked over with two cups of hot cocoa. "Here, warm up. I'm taking Cassandra to see the seagulls."

Justin forced a smile. He squeezed my hand, his palm slick with sweat. "Cassandra's so fragile. Maybe the surgery... it could wait a little longer."

Cassandra leaned against Asher, covering her mouth as she laughed lightly. "We can't wait. Our parents called last night. They're already helping us plan the wedding."

She shot a veiled glance in my direction. "They're just thrilled for us. It's such a shame about your... tragedy."

The color drained from my face. Asher wouldn't meet my eyes and quickly pulled her away.

Justin stared blankly at their retreating figures, lost in thought. After a long moment, he came back to himself and placed a hand on my lower abdomen.

He kissed me feverishly, and between his ragged breaths, I heard him whisper, "It's okay if we don't have a child. Having you is enough."

And yet, his heart was hammering against his ribs.

"The wind is picking up," I said flatly, ignoring his empty reassurances.