The bodyguard slammed my head down with brutal force.

The tile cracked beneath the impact.

A sickening thud echoed through the hall and blood quickly stained the floor.

My chest felt like it was being ripped apart.

But Nathan still wasn’t done.

Again and again.

By the tenth time, my legs were numb. I had no strength left to stay upright.

He casually waved his hand, signaling the bodyguard to retrieve the forgiveness letter from my arms.

After Shakira signed it with a flourish, the bodyguard yanked my hand and pressed my bloody fingerprint onto the paper.

Only then did Nathan’s expression soften.

“If you had just behaved earlier,” he said, looking pleased, “you wouldn’t have had to suffer.”

“Does your leg still hurt? I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He stepped forward to help me, reaching out with a tenderness that made me nauseous.

I slapped his hand away with a bitter smile.

“I don’t need your fake kindness.”

I turned to leave, but my body betrayed me. My knees buckled and I nearly fell down the stairs.

Nathan instinctively reached out to catch me—then stopped mid-motion.

His hand hovered for a moment, then dropped.

“You stay with her,” he told the bodyguard. “Take her to the hospital and keep me updated.”

And just like that, he turned away, wrapped his arm around Shakira and walked into the hotel without looking back.

Cold sweat drenched my forehead.

It took ten minutes just to descend the stairs.

The pain was unbearable.

Then everything went black.

***

In the haze of unconsciousness, I drifted back six years into the past.

Mom and I were homeless, wandering the streets.

We passed by a school gate when a runaway truck sped straight toward us—toward Nathan.

Without thinking, I rushed forward and shoved him out of the way.

He escaped with barely a scratch.

I, on the other hand, suffered multiple fractures in both legs and spent half a year in the hospital.

He visited every single day.

He brought his textbooks, sat by my bed, explained lessons and helped me review.

At night, thinking I was asleep, he’d lean close and whisper softly into my ear:

“Kristine, it looks like I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got a lifetime to repay you.”

In the corner of the room where he couldn’t see me, I smiled.

After that, every time it rained, my legs would ache unbearably.

And every single time, he’d drop everything, come to my side, apply heat packs and change my bandages himself.

But now… everything had changed.

***

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

My phone showed a message from Nathan, sent two hours ago.

[Uncle wants you to come home for a visit. We’re getting married soon, so try to control your temper.]

[The family dinner is tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.]

That was it.

The next day, he sent nothing more.

Until I saw Shakira’s new social media post.

She’d tagged her location: the summit of a bungee jumping site.

The photo showed them holding hands—her ring finger bare, with only a faint sunburn line where the ring had been.

[He said no matter what happens in the future, he’ll always stand in front of me to shield me from pain.

Thank you, Big Brother. Having you in this life is enough.]

Nathan liked the post and replied with a smiling cat emoji.

“There’s nothing I can do about you. I can only spoil my sister. Hope your future brother-in-law won’t mind…”

I remembered the day I turned eighteen.

He asked what I wanted as a gift.

I told him I wanted to go bungee jumping—to feel the thrill of skimming the edge of death, just once, so I could feel alive again.

His face turned cold. Disdainful.

“Bungee jumping? That’s something only people who don’t want to live anymore do,” he said.

“It’s basically like jumping off a building. Who has time for that kind of nonsense?”

When he noticed I was disappointed, he explained—

He was afraid of heights. Always had been.

But apparently, even his deepest fears could be overcome.

Just not for me.

I closed the app, shut off the screen and booked a plane ticket.

Three days later, I’d leave this country behind.

The wedding planning company called me.

“Ms. Raymond, the venue is nearly ready. Would you like to come take a look yourself?”

“Mr. Cole’s phone is unavailable and his assistant said you can make the decisions on your own without consulting him.”

So this is what his love looks like—he couldn’t even be bothered to care about our wedding.

My heart turned cold and my voice reflected the same chill.

“If he doesn’t want to see it, I have no objections. Do whatever you like—there’s no need to contact me again.”

When I was discharged from the hospital, the doctor informed me that my prescribed medication had already been picked up—by someone else.

I headed downstairs and saw Shakira.

She waved my medicine at me with a smug smile.

“Sorry, Sister. I tripped and hurt myself, so I borrowed your medication.”

It was a treatment for bruises and sprains. But her skin was flawless. No cuts, no bruises—just a glaring kiss mark on her neck.

Right in front of me, Shakira opened the tube of ointment and dabbed it gently on her neck.

“Oh no, Brother Nathan was a little too rough… Tonight’s the family dinner. If Dad sees this, it’ll be awful.”

I knew she was saying it just to get under my skin.

“You must have inherited the habit of stealing what belongs to others.”

A flash of irritation passed through her eyes before she gave a light laugh.

“Are you talking about you and Brother Nathan getting married?”

“He already explained everything to me. That marriage certificate? Fake. He only did it to keep you off his back.”

Right then, my phone buzzed with a new message—from her.

Attached was a photo of the City Hall’s record system.

Nathan’s marital status showed just two characters: unmarried.

My entire body went cold. It felt like I had fallen into an ice cave, frozen from head to toe.

So he had been lying to me. From the very beginning.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Cry because I was a fool.

Laugh because at least—I was still free.

“What exactly are you trying to prove by showing me this?” I asked, my voice dry.

“Think you still have a shot with Nathan?”

“Well then, congratulations. You’ve won. I’ll wish you a happy marriage in advance.”

I returned home, numb.

The wedding photos we had taken together were still on the bedside table.

I threw them all into a trash bag, carried it downstairs and burned everything.

The flames roared to life just as Nathan returned.

He frowned slightly at the sight.

“What are you burning?”

“Nothing important. Just some hazardous waste.”

He nodded casually, as if it meant nothing to him and turned to go change his clothes.

When he came back out and drove away, he didn’t even glance at the ashes smoldering in the bin.

Those wedding photos—our memories—meant nothing to him.

Just like me. Worthless. Dispensable.

***

At the Raymond Family home, my father and Shakira’s mother had been waiting for quite some time.

The moment I stepped through the door, my father accepted the engagement gifts from Nathan, then turned to me with a scowl.

“Kristine, making your elders wait like this—is this how your mother raised you?”

I met his glare without flinching.

“At least my mother didn’t raise me to seduce someone else’s boyfriend.”

Slap!

His palm struck my face, hard.

Nathan didn’t even blink.

Soon, Shakira’s mother pulled him aside into the study for a private chat.

I forced myself to look up, meeting my father’s gaze full of contempt.

“My mother was always dignified and upright. She never owed you anything.”

“You’re the one who cheated. You brought your mistress and illegitimate daughter into our home. You’re the one who should feel ashamed!”

My father exploded in fury. He grabbed the glass ashtray off the table and raised it high above my head.

“You ungrateful wench! You think I won’t discipline you?”

But just as he was about to strike, the front door opened.

A group of relatives walked in.

In an instant, my father’s expression flipped.

He smiled graciously and greeted them like the perfect host.

“I heard Old Raymond is about to marry into the Cole Family?" one of them said with a chuckle.

“We couldn’t miss today’s engagement celebration!”

“I’ve always said Shakira is capable. Much better than that ungrateful Kristine…”

My father’s voice trailed off when he noticed me standing there. His face twisted into an awkward scowl as the words caught in his throat.

At the family banquet, everyone raised their glasses to toast Shakira and Nathan, offering their blessings for a happy marriage and a blissful life together.

The cheerful chatter and laughter echoed in my ears, each word stabbing like needles. I couldn’t help but glance at Nathan.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even try to explain. He simply held his wine glass with calm poise, a polite smile fixed on his lips.

Unable to stand another minute of it, I stood up and walked out into the courtyard. The evening air was cool, but it did little to numb the pain surging inside me.

Footsteps followed me. Shakira.

“Sister,” she said in her syrupy voice, “you haven’t been home in six years. How could you leave so soon? Isn’t that a bit rude?”

Then her tone turned sharp, venomous.

“You’re just like your cheap mother. Always missing the opportunity to make money when it’s right in front of you. No wonder you’re destined to be poor for the rest of your life. Pathetic.”

Anger surged through me like wildfire. I turned to face her, my voice as cold as ice.

“What are you talking about? What exactly did my mother go through before she died?”

Shakira gave a mock pout and sauntered over to the swing, gently swaying back and forth like a child. Her voice dropped low, but her words were cruel.

“Someone offered me twenty thousand dollar to spend one night with her. She refused. Wanted to go back to the country the moment she landed. How was I supposed to work with an employee like that?”

“I don’t do unprofitable deals. So I had to teach her a lesson. Who knew she had such a stubborn streak? Even after I drugged her, she didn’t give in.”

“Before she died, she was stripped, kneeling on the ground, begging me not to tell you. But I’m just so kind-hearted. How could I keep something like that from you?”

She smiled at me, sweet as poison.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged at her. We crashed to the ground, kicking and scratching. Her face split open, blood trickling down her cheek.

“What are you doing?! Stop it right now!”

My father stormed over and, without a word, slapped me hard across the face.

My blood boiled. I stared at him with tear-filled eyes, shouting uncontrollably:

“She killed my mother! Don’t I have the right to take revenge?”

“You knew what she did—!”

Smack!

Another slap, even harder. My head whipped to the side and I tasted blood. A tooth hit the ground beside me.

“What did she do to your mother? Do you have proof?” my father shouted.

“How dare you slander her like that? Is this the kind of upbringing your mother gave you?”

I turned to Nathan, desperate. One last time—I looked at him, silently begging for help, for even a flicker of understanding after all these years.

But he just looked at me with the same cold detachment as the others.

His voice was like a blade.

“Kristine, apologize. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Your mother’s death was her own doing. It had nothing to do with Shakira. And now you’re creating a scene—are you happy?”

His words settled over me like a cold fog.

Then came the murmurs and snide whispers from the guests nearby.

“I heard Old Raymond’s ex-wife has been doing odd jobs since the divorce. Looks like it’s true.”

“So her husband cheated. Big deal. What man doesn’t have a mistress or two? Just deal with it and move on. She died chasing a bit of money. That’s on her.”

“Women like that are always too emotional. And now look at her daughter—cut from the same pathetic cloth.”

I dropped to my knees. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

Nathan’s expression darkened. His patience had run dry.

“Kristine, don’t make me hit you again. Dignity is something you have to give yourself.”

My hands trembled as my nails dug into the dirt. Blood seeped from my fingertips into the earth.

Slowly, I lowered my head and knocked it once against the edge of the flower bed.

“I’m sorry.”

I said it again. And again.

Ten times.

When I finally looked up, tears blurred my vision, but my gaze was sharp as ice.

“Can I leave now?”

Nathan hesitated, clearly surprised by my sudden compliance. But whatever unease he felt vanished quickly as Shakira clung to his arm and started whining again.

“Go ahead. But don’t cause any more trouble.”

But there was no “us” anymore.

There were no taxis in the villa complex and just then, it began to pour.

I walked ten kilometers in the rain until I finally reached the funeral home.

As I watched my mother being laid to rest, the last thread of attachment in my heart snapped.

At midnight, the family banquet came to an end and a message from Nathan popped up on my phone.

“Did you get home? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t eat tonight, so I brought you something. Wait for me, okay?”

“Your assistant told me you didn’t try on the wedding dress and threw a tantrum again. I’ll bring it back for you to try. Be a good girl.”

His tone was patronizing, like he was speaking to a pet.

And yet… I had once mistaken that for love.

I didn’t reply.

I turned off my phone and tossed it into the trash can.

Then I walked straight to the boarding gate without looking back.

Goodbye, Nathan.

Goodbye forever.