The door clicked open behind me.

I turned, startled, only to find Isaac entering—radiating warmth, his eyes sparkling with that familiar charm that once made my heart flutter. But the brilliance wasn’t for me. It never truly had been.

“Not close to whom?” he asked casually, amusement lacing his voice.

I didn’t hesitate. “You,” I answered, blunt but trembling.

His brows rose in mock surprise. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around me. The gesture that once brought comfort now made my stomach churn.

“Really now?” he whispered, breath warm against my ear. “Strange. You’d think all those nights we spent together meant something.”

I tried to wriggle free. My eyes, unwillingly, landed on a faint smear of lipstick on his collar—one that wasn’t mine.

The sting on my wrist sharpened like a warning, reminding me of the burns I’d tried so hard to ignore. My composure slipped. I blinked back tears, but they came anyway.

Isaac’s teasing faded. Alarm replaced it as he noticed my wince. He grabbed my arm and pushed back the sleeve.

“What the hell—Wendy, how did you get these burns? When? Why didn’t you say anything?”

His voice was thick with concern, but it only deepened the hollow echo in my chest. Had he truly forgotten what happened at the banquet? Or was he pretending?

I didn’t answer.

Hours earlier, I’d spoken to my brother. His voice had carried a mixture of hope and unease—probably sensing something I wouldn’t admit outright.

“Wendy Dale… has someone hurt you?”

There’d been a pause, heavy on his end of the line. I smiled then, light and practiced, despite the bitterness rising in my throat.

“No. I’m fine,” I lied. “I’ve just decided that since I’m going to marry anyway… does it really matter who the groom is?”

He didn’t buy it. “You didn’t sound too thrilled about marriage last time we talked. Why the sudden change?”

Because I had wanted to marry Isaac. Because I thought I mattered to him. Because I was wrong.

I shook my head at the memory and gave a laugh that sounded far too hollow. “I’ve come to terms with things. Besides, I’m not getting any younger. Might as well get it over with before I’m completely undesirable.”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped gently. “You’re not some expired commodity. Look… I’ll have someone brief you about the one we’ve chosen. You deserve to meet him before anything’s finalized.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I’d said quickly, steeling my voice. “I trust you and the rest of the family. Just pick whoever you think is suitable. I’ll go through with it.”

There’d been a pause, then a sigh—deep, resigned.

“When are you coming back then? The pack will want to prepare everything. Are you sure you don’t want to meet him at least once?”

“No. The sooner we act, the sooner this mess can be cleaned up. Let’s hold the ceremony a month from now.”

“Got it,” he said. Then, with hesitation: “By the way… Isaac’s first love, Candice—she’s back. Have you spoken to him recently? Maybe invite him to the wedding. He might bring… closure.”

So he knew. Of course he did.

“No point in that,” I replied, my voice low. “We’re not close.”

Now, standing in Isaac’s arms, those words tasted like ash.

And as I looked into his face, so concerned, so confused by my silence, I couldn’t decide which truth would hurt more—the one I held, or the one he pretended not to know.

“Stop those tears already. I’ll handle this, alright?”

With a soft sigh, he gently ruffled my hair and dabbed away the tears staining my cheeks. His lips brushed against my face in a comforting kiss before he stood and shuffled toward the medicine shelf, grumbling under his breath.

“You’re supposed to be tough, you know. Brave and bold. Yet here you are, crying again at the slightest bit of pain. What would you even do if I weren’t around?”

I stared in silence at the red, inflamed burn on my wrist. The ache was dull now, but its presence was a cruel reminder.

For seven long years, I’d been coddled, protected, and adored. But what would truly become of me without him?

Still, I didn’t want to keep this up. Not anymore. Not this illusion we pretended was real.

Not you, Isaac. Not this bond you insist we maintain—fragile, counterfeit, and bleeding.

Sleep eluded me that night. Whether it was the burn throbbing against my skin or the churning truth I’d only now begun to confront, I couldn’t tell. I lay drenched in sweat, turning from side to side in the tangled sheets, wishing for the relief of unconsciousness. But slumber only came after an eternity of unrest.

By early morning, before the sun had properly risen, Isaac shook me awake with little ceremony.

I groaned, swatting at his hands as he tugged on the blanket. He chuckled and leaned down, stealing a quick kiss.

The shock of it wiped away all remnants of sleep. I nearly slapped him, my palm twitching midair before I stopped myself.

Thankfully, the kiss had been brief.

“Good morning, my sleepy little mooncake,” he teased.

Disgusted, I turned away and wiped my mouth. “It’s the weekend. Can’t I sleep in for once?” I mumbled, still groggy and annoyed.

Isaac gave me a long look, then sighed. “You had a fever last night. Did you even realize that? Get dressed—we’re going to the healer.”

I studied his face as he spoke, wondering whether his concern came from genuine affection or merely from obligation. His expression was filled with worry, but somehow, I felt like he wasn’t really seeing me.

I didn’t argue. I was too tired for that. Wordlessly, I followed.

At the healer’s clinic, we crossed paths with someone I wasn’t ready to see—Candice. She stood awkwardly in the hallway, trying to walk on what looked like a swollen foot. Isaac’s demeanor shifted immediately.

In a flash, he was no longer at my side. “Candice! What happened?” he asked, alarm in his voice as he rushed toward her.

She gave him a sweet, knowing smile, her eyes flicking briefly to me. “I twisted my ankle. Such a coincidence, bumping into you two. Here for a check-up too?”

Isaac paused, glancing back at me as though remembering I was still there. There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes—barely visible but impossible for me to miss.

“Yeah. Brought my ‘little sister’ in. She wasn’t feeling well last night,” he explained, his voice suddenly cool.

I didn’t flinch. There was no reason to. He’d introduced me that way before—plenty of times. I had long since learned to live with the label. From the day he refused to reveal our bond, I had become the invisible girl in the background, the sibling of a friend he was doing a favor for.

Only a few in his inner circle knew the truth.

Candice nodded politely. “Since she’s staying at your place, it’s only right you take care of her.” Then she motioned toward another building. “Well, I better get going. My healer’s over there.”

As she limped away, Isaac moved without hesitation, swooping her into his arms. “I’ll carry you. No need to strain yourself.”

Then, as though I were an afterthought, he called over his shoulder, “Wendy, wait here.”

My body went cold. Whether it was the fever or something far worse, I wasn’t sure. The strength drained from my limbs, leaving me weak and lightheaded. I didn’t even attempt to argue or call him back.

He hadn’t asked my permission. He didn’t even look twice.

So I stood there silently, leaning against the nearest wall to stop myself from swaying.

Isaac’s act had always been convincing—but only until Candice entered the scene. Then his true self bled through, unfiltered. He never noticed the difference, but I did. Every time.

With a bitter smile tightening my lips, I turned away and made my way, alone, to the section for fever patients.

The healer barely needed to examine me to confirm it—my temperature had skyrocketed to 41.3°C.

Apparently, the burn had become infected, worsened by stress and emotional turmoil, leading to a viral complication. I was given herbs to brew into tea and advised to start an infusion as soon as possible.

Without thinking, I reached for my phone and searched for Isaac’s number.

Then I froze.

What was I doing?

Habit, it seemed, was a cruel thing—more dangerous than any wound.

I gave a short, humorless laugh, lowered the phone, and slipped it back into my pocket.

No more calls. No more illusions.

I accepted the medications from the healer, thanked her quietly, and walked myself to the patient rest area, alone.

The morning felt unusually long as I finished the last of the bitter herbal concoction and received the infusion recommended by the healer. My head swam with dizziness, and even a few steps left me shaky, almost toppling over.

I picked up my phone to check for any messages from Isaac, a small part of me still hoping he had at least sent a word. But my heart sank when the screen remained empty—no updates, no questions about my condition, not even a single text showing he cared.

With a deep breath, I decided to call him despite the growing unease in my chest. I didn’t want any assumptions or miscommunications to pile up between us. When he answered and realized I was still in the healer’s care, there was a pause on his end before he spoke.

“Wendy, I’m really sorry. I meant to come back for you after I dropped Candice off, but… she started having stomach cramps, so I had to stay…”

Wait. Did he just say he brought her back home?

Before he could offer more explanation, a voice in the background caught my attention—someone, likely a server, saying clearly, “Sir, your entire meal has been served. Please enjoy.”

I froze. Isaac’s voice turned muffled as he must have covered the speaker in a hurry, but the damage was already done. I had heard enough to understand.

There was a pause. Then I let out a soft breath and replied, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle things on my own.”

Why I said that, I wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps I wanted to spare him guilt, or maybe I was desperately trying to reassure myself that I didn’t need him—that I could do this alone.

As I moved to hang up, he suddenly called out, “Wendy, just go back home. I’ll explain everything later, alright?”

Explain what, exactly? More excuses? Another carefully constructed lie to keep me in place?

I ended the call without saying another word. Then, without waiting any longer, I arranged for a ride back. But when the evening came, Isaac still hadn’t returned.

Sleep didn’t come easily. The muffled sounds outside the window kept dragging me back to reality. I peered out and saw the sky alight with fireworks—someone must have been celebrating something, probably a romantic surprise.

A sharp twist of bitterness tugged at my lips, forming a humorless smile.

Unable to rest, I turned to my tablet and resumed working on a client’s wedding gown sketches. While scrolling through references, my finger brushed against my messaging app, opening it accidentally.

There, right at the top, was Candice’s newest post.

It was an elegant shot of fireworks bursting across the night, with a caption written like a line from a love poem:

“After so many years apart, I’ve finally returned to your side. These fireworks bloom as if the stars themselves are welcoming me back.”

I stared at the screen, mind blank and chest tight. Then, when I attempted to exit the app, I realized that Isaac’s account was still logged in on my device.

I didn’t have the will to dig through any conversations or see more than I should. I quickly logged his account out and turned the device off.

The following morning, I arrived at the office with a clear goal in mind.

The manager handed me the approval letter for my resignation. When I explained my departure was due to an upcoming bond marriage and that I’d be relocating to another territory, her face shifted between joy and sorrow.

“We’re going to miss you dearly. You’ve always been one of the most reliable people on the team.”

Words failed me, so I hugged her tightly, expressing my gratitude for all her guidance and trust over the years.

After wrapping up the paperwork, my coworkers insisted on treating me to a farewell lunch in honor of my new journey. I agreed and suggested a familiar place—one that Isaac and I often went to, where I knew the food would be consistently good.

Halfway through the meal, I excused myself to head to the restroom. But as I rounded the hallway, I bumped into Candice.

Her smile was bright, as if seeing me was the best surprise of her day. “What a surprise! I didn’t expect to see you here. Isaac brought me here too, back when we completed our coming-of-age rites. We’ve visited this place so many times since.”

I returned her smile with a polite one, not really in the mood for conversation. I stepped to the side, intent on leaving quickly.

But just as I was about to walk away, she called out again.

“I noticed something the other day… Isaac always rinses the shrimp in water before peeling them for you. Do you avoid spicy food too?”

Her casual use of the word “too” made me stop in my tracks.

In truth, I enjoyed spicy food. But over time, Isaac had made a habit of washing the shrimp in water before serving them to me, saying spicy flavors weren’t good for my health. I’d accepted it without much thought, assuming he was just thoughtful and looking out for me.

Now it was clear—he wasn’t thinking of me at all.

The one who didn’t like spicy food… the one whose preferences he remembered and cared for… was Candice.