After moving into the house, Heather began acting as if she owned the place and criticized everything about its decor.

She complained that the paintings on the wall were ugly, the carpet was the wrong color, the stuffed animals were hideous, and the garden flowers were too plain…

Utterly smitten, Chandler indulged her every whim. He took down the oil paintings I'd done myself, replaced the carpet we'd chosen together, and threw Alfie's favorite stuffed toys into the storage room.

Turning around, he dug up all the lilies I loved from the garden and replaced them with her preferred roses. It was as if Heather were the true lady of the house.

I pretended not to care. After all, they were legally married, and in the eyes of the law, this house was indeed their shared property.

Plus, I was leaving soon anyway, and this was no longer my home.

I let Heather have her way until one night, while she was out, I slipped quietly into Grandma's room. When Heather first moved in, she'd promised not to touch anything, but now, the entire room had been transformed.

The simple, solid-colored bedsheets had been replaced with bright pink ones. The decorations that once adorned the walls and desk were gone, now swapped with Heather's makeup and jewelry. Grandma's last traces had been erased.

Fighting back tears, I reached under the bed and pulled out a small wooden box, holding Grandma's belongings. Heather hadn't found it, so it remained safe and untouched.

I opened it; inside were Grandma's belongings and an old picture album filled with years of memories of our time together.

Suddenly, a sharp voice came from the door. "Danielle, what are you doing in my room?"

Heather had returned, and I instinctively hid the box behind my back.

"This was never your room. You're just a guest." I tried to explain, but she dropped her usual gentle act and strode forward to snatch the box from my hands.

"Are you stealing from me? I can't believe this is who you really are."

"Give it back! Those are my grandma's stuff!" I shouted and struggled with her over the box, and in the chaos, its contents scattered across the floor. With a deliberate stomp of her heel, she crushed the photo album before ripping it apart.

"Look closely. This is what happens when you try to take what's mine!" She lifted her chin smugly before a small figure darted into the room and rammed into her.

"Don't you dare hurt my mom!"

It was Alfie. He kicked and punched at her, but as an adult, Heather quickly overpowered him and slapped him twice across his face.

"You little brat! Did your mom never teach you manners?"

Rage surged through my veins. "Don't you dare touch my son!" I shouted and shoved her away with a force I gathered from nowhere.

She fell backward and knocked her head against the corner of the table before blood immediately began to flow.

Just then, Chandler walked in, and his expression darkened with fury as he took in the scene. "Danielle! I never thought you could be this vicious. How could you attack her like that?"

Hugging Alfie close, I tried to explain. "It wasn't me. She hurt Alfie first…"

"Enough!" Chandler roared. I'd never seen him so mad.

"According to the Leighton family rules, you will spend one week confined in the basement. As for Alfie, his summer camp is canceled, and he's grounded for a month."

My face paled. "No, Chandler, please… You know I'm afraid of the dark..."

But he ignored me and scooped Heather into his arms before rushing out. Looking at the wreckage, I stood frozen in despair as bodyguards barged into the room and seized me by the wrists without mercy.

Four years ago, Chandler and I were accidentally locked in the company warehouse overnight.

I'd always suffered from claustrophobia, and back then, I was so terrified I could barely breathe. It was Chandler who held me tightly, comforted me, and promised he'd find a way to get us out.

But now, it seemed he'd forgotten entirely about my claustrophobia.

I was locked in a dark, damp basement. My phone was taken away, cutting me off from the outside world entirely.

Time lost its meaning as I drifted in and out of sleep in the darkness and spent every waking moment crying in a breakdown.

I couldn't understand how Chandler had turned into a man like that. He used to love me so much, but the moment Heather appeared, it was as though he'd been bewitched to shower all his love and trust on her instead. Or perhaps, the scale deep within his chest had always been tilted in her favor.

Was it just because her parents were gone, and she had no one else to rely on?

I couldn't make sense of it. Eventually, cold and exhausted, I curled up and fell into a deep slumber.

Slowly, I sank into a long dream, where I was nestled safely beside Grandma, with Alfie listening intently by our side as she gently told us fairy tales.

But in the next moment, both Grandma and Alfie began drifting away from me, their calm voices shifting into heartbroken sobs. I tried to run to them, but a looming figure blocked my path.

It was Chandler, who frowned and berated me for disobeying his words, before Heather's mocking voice followed. "Look closely. This is what happens when you try to take what's mine!"

When I jolted awake, I found myself drenched in cold sweat.

Just then, the basement door swung open before Chandler rushed in and gathered my soaked body into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Danielle. I was too impulsive, and I never should've lost my temper or locked you in here."

He held me as though afraid of losing something precious and carefully carried me out of the basement.

I stayed silent the whole time, too emotionally and physically drained for days to respond. All I felt was weariness.

Back in the light, I realized Chandler hadn't kept me imprisoned for the whole week just as he'd instructed. He'd released me on the third day.

Grandma's belongings and the torn picture album had been carefully gathered and placed on the desk in my room. But it made no difference because the damage was done, no matter if the harm was great or small. I'd stopped believing in him from the moment he chose Heather.

Chandler laid me on the bed and gently pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. I won't ever do that again."

He handed me two theater tickets and added, "To make it up to you, I booked us tickets to the musical tomorrow night."

I stared blankly at the tickets. It was the same theater where he'd proposed to me seven years ago.

At the same time, I picked up my phone, unused for three days, and saw multiple notifications from Heather. They were intimate pictures of a man and a woman, along with raw video clips. All of them were taken during the two days I was locked in the basement.

It was as if she were using me as her personal sex diary with Chandler.

Beside me, Chandler still had his arms around me, oblivious to what was happening on my phone. I looked at him and suddenly asked, "Why don't you take Heather instead?"

He flinched before looking at me with a mix of surprise and guilt. "What are you talking about, my love? This is our date; what does she have to do with it?

"Are you still upset? Don't worry. Heather and I are just friends, and she'll be leaving soon."

I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at the steady, practiced calm on his lying face.

"Alright." I softly agreed as a grand, final farewell to this relationship. Next week, I'd leave this all behind.

On the day of the performance, Chandler held my hand tightly the whole time.

It wasn't until the musical began that I realized it was the same musical we'd watched seven years ago. The familiar storyline and songs pulled me back to the night he proposed, when I'd thought I was simply there to watch a show.

At the finale, the theater suddenly went dark before a single spotlight illuminated him standing there in a suit, holding a bouquet of roses.

Amid the actors' soaring voices and a shower of rose petals, I tearfully said yes.

Seven years had passed since that night, and the man beside me was no longer the same person I used to know. Once again, tears started streaming down my face.

Chandler noticed I was crying and gently wiped my tears with a tissue. "Why are you getting emotional over a musical? You're still as sentimental as ever, my love."

I didn't respond.

Just then, a familiar figure appeared beside us. It was Heather, dressed in a striking red dress, as she casually slid into the seat next to Chandler.

"What are you doing here?" Chandler frowned. Though his voice sounded sharp, his eyes remained fixed on her.

"I just wanted to apologize," she said softly, putting on a pitiful act. "I shouldn't have flirted with that doctor at the hospital. Let's not stay mad at each other, and forgive me, alright?"

I could feel the tension around Chandler ease visibly. That was when it struck me—his fight with Heather was the reason he'd let me out of the basement early and brought me here. Everything was just an act to make her jealous.

I almost laughed out loud, feeling utterly absurd. What did they take me for? A tool for their games?

The theater lights dimmed as the musical reached a climactic scene. In the darkness, I gripped the armrests tightly, listening to the hushed whispers and rustling sounds of fabric coming from the two beside me.

They probably thought the musical's volume was loud enough to drown it out, but I heard everything.

Suddenly, a sharp, metallic snap echoed through the theater. Someone screamed, "Watch out above!"

I looked up toward the ceiling. In the deep shadows, I could make out a massive crystal chandelier swaying precariously. And before I could react, it came crashing down on us.

The sound of shattering glass filled the theater. An excruciating pain shot through my body as something like a giant boulder heavily pinned me down.

Just before darkness swallowed my consciousness, I saw Chandler throw himself over Heather and shield her with his body.