I've been with my boyfriend for five years. Just when we were about to get married, the company hit a rough patch. To secure a deal, I pushed myself too hard, drinking excessively until my stomach gave way. In the midst of my pain, my boyfriend turned his back on me, rushing to comfort Evelyn Harper instead.

I called him over and over, but he coldly hung up every time. Then, Evelyn posted a picture of the two of them kissing on her Instagram account, writing, "He is my knight, my prince." My boyfriend's comment followed: "I will always protect you."

I stared at their posts, feeling nothing but coldness. At that moment, I made a decision. I would agree with the marriage my family had arranged for me.

"Dad, I agree with the marriage," I said, my voice soft but filled with an unwavering resolve.

My dad smiled warmly. "I knew you'd come to the right decision, my dear daughter. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything for the wedding. You just need to come back and be a beautiful bride."

He didn't ask me anything more, but I could see he understood. A lump formed in my throat as I whispered, "Dad, I’ve been so stubborn."

He sighed, his voice full of love. "As long as you’re happy, nothing else matters."

"Thank you, Dad."

After hanging up, the door to my room swung open forcefully. I turned to see Liam storming in, furious. Without a word, he pulled me off the bed.

"Let's go," he demanded. "Apologize to Evelyn right now."

With a loud crash, the tubes that had been inserted into my body clattered to the floor. He stared at me in shock, his eyes wide. "Ava, why are you pretending? It's just a stomachache from drinking a little too much. Do you really need to make such a big scene with the doctor?"

In his eyes, was I nothing more than someone faking a stomachache?

When I was brought to the hospital, the doctor had already informed him that I had suffered a serious gastric perforation, and surgery to remove part of my stomach might be necessary. But when Evelyn called, he didn't hesitate to leave, running to her without a second thought.

Now, after my surgery was over, he still claimed I was acting.

At that moment, the last shred of my illusions about him shattered.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the sharp pain in my abdomen, and pushed him away. "What are you talking about?"

He stopped, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why are you provoking Evelyn? I'm already going to marry you. What more do you want?"

His voice dripped with sarcasm. "If you're so jealous, why don’t you just drink a few more glasses, close the deal, and tie me down the way you want? Satisfy your need to control."

So, in Liam's eyes, my love for him was nothing more than a need to control, a burden?

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat, and all I felt was coldness in my chest.

Meeting his angry gaze, I said with an icy calm, "Fine. I’ll apologize to her once I’m discharged from the hospital."

And I will return you to her, I added silently in my mind.

Liam snorted derisively. "No. You’re leaving with me now. You’re just pretending, anyway."

Without giving me a chance to protest, he roughly ripped the tubes from my body and dragged me out of the hospital.

My face was ashen, and I couldn’t muster the strength to resist his forceful actions. He threw me into the car with a violent shove, and I felt the pain from my wound tear open once more. Warm blood seeped out, soaking into my clothes.

Weakly, I pleaded with him, my voice barely a whisper. "Liam, I really had surgery. Please... Let me go back and rest. Once I recover, I’ll apologize to Evelyn. I promise."

"Impossible." His response was cold, dismissive.

Without sparing me another glance, he sped off, the car hurtling forward as if I didn’t matter at all.

Before long, the car screeched to a sudden halt.

I barely had time to process the abrupt stop before Liam yanked me out of the car, dragging me once again with no consideration for my pain.

He dragged me inside without a chance to say a word. I could feel the blood dripping from my wound, staining the carpet, only to disappear into the fibers.

He stopped abruptly in front of a door, pushing me into the room. The moment I stepped inside, the atmosphere grew tense, the room falling into a heavy silence.

I stumbled, my legs giving out beneath me, and I fell to the floor. Liam’s friends exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them reached out, seemingly wanting to help, but Liam shot them a glare that froze them in place, his eyes warning them to stay away.

I slowly lifted my head and saw Liam grab the wine glass from Evelyn's hand, pulling her into his arms with exaggerated tenderness.

"Enough, don't drink anymore. You'll get drunk if you keep at it."

Evelyn, her eyes red with tears, slapped at his chest in frustration. "Don’t bother me! Aren’t you getting married? Aren’t you supposed to be comforting your girlfriend? What are you doing here?"

Liam took her hand gently, his voice soft and apologetic. "I know, I know. It’s my fault. I brought her here to apologize. But please, don’t drink anymore."

He glanced at me then, his expression darkening as his gaze met mine.

The sight of their intimate exchange left me feeling numb. I didn't feel anger, sadness, or even disappointment anymore—just a cold emptiness.

Gripping the edge of the table to steady myself, I pressed my hand against my wound, forcing myself to stand. I scanned the room, noting the crowd of people present, all silent witnesses to this scene.

They witnessed Liam and I fall in love, and now they were about to watch us break up.

I took a slow breath and began, my voice barely a whisper, "Evelyn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have provoked you. I shouldn’t have tried to come between you and Liam. Now…"

I’ll give him back to you.

Before I could finish, Evelyn interrupted me, stepping forward with a glass of wine in hand. Her expression was unreadable, a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite place.

"Ava," she said, her voice steady yet tinged with something deeper. "I didn't handle my feelings well, I was foolish. If you can forgive me, drink this wine, and you’ll be my good sister-in-law from now on."

I shook my head gently, refusing. "No, I just had surgery. I can’t drink this, I really can’t."

The truth was, I didn’t want to be with Liam anymore, and I had no desire to become her sister-in-law.

But in Liam's eyes, my refusal only made it look like I was deliberately embarrassing Evelyn.

His voice came sharp and demanding, "Ava, you must drink it. Don’t forget why you’re here today."

"Liam," I snapped, meeting his eyes with a piercing stare. "Are you sure you want me to drink it?"

His eyes wavered for a moment, but after a brief exchange with Evelyn, whose eyes were red and pleading, he gave in, his decision final.

"Yes. You must drink."

I locked eyes with him, the tension between us palpable. "Fine."

Without another word, I took the glass from her hand, stared at Liam one last time, and downed the entire glass of white wine in one swift motion.

The next moment, my hand went limp, and the cup crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. I couldn’t hold on any longer. Darkness enveloped me, and I fainted.

"Ava!"

Before everything went black, I caught a glimpse of Liam’s panicked face as he rushed toward me.

"Ah, my foot, it hurts," he muttered, but his attention was quickly drawn to Evelyn, who gasped in alarm. Without hesitation, he turned to her, concern replacing his urgency for me. "Let me see where it hurts."

A bitter smile curved on my lips before I lost consciousness completely.

When I awoke again, the familiar gastric tube was back in place, and the steady beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the room.

"Bed 22, you're awake. How could you drink after just having surgery? Do you have any idea how much effort we put into saving you?" The nurse’s voice was filled with exhaustion and frustration. "Next time, don’t put yourself at such risk. It’s too dangerous."

I could only offer a soft apology. "I’m sorry, thank you. I won’t do it again."

The nurse paused, as if remembering something, before speaking again, her tone taking on a different edge. "Was it your boyfriend who brought you here that day? What was his deal? We told him your condition was critical, but he refused to believe us. He wouldn’t sign the consent forms, just sat there in the ER, waiting for the girl to get treated instead of you."

I thought about it for a moment before asking, "Is the girl seriously injured?"

The nurse scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Seriously injured? Please. If it had been two minutes later, the wound would have healed on its own. She kept screaming about glass shards in her injury."

"The man believed it so much, he wouldn’t stop pestering the doctor to recheck her. He was running around all night. They’re both a pair of oddballs, honestly."

The nurse let out a frustrated sigh and added, "Miss, your choice in boyfriends is really something else."

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Even strangers could see Liam’s clear favoritism, but it took me five years to realize it myself.

I stayed in the hospital for five days, and during that time, Liam never once contacted me.

Yet, every day, I saw him in Evelyn’s posts.

He was either cooking for her, washing her feet, or even doing her laundry.

They took trips to see the sea and watch the sunset, their smiles shining brightly in every photo.

They even shared a kiss at the top of a Ferris wheel, the view breathtaking, just like their love.

How romantic, how beautiful.

Someone commented on Evelyn's post, "Your boyfriend is so romantic, he clearly loves you so much."

And Evelyn responded with a proud smile, "Not boyfriend, but my exclusive knight."

They didn’t talk about love everywhere, but their love was there, in every moment, in every gesture.

The two of them, calling themselves childhood sweethearts, carried on with their intimate displays, doing all sorts of things that blurred the lines of friendship. Meanwhile, I had been with Liam for five years, and he had never once cooked for me.

There was that time I was sick with a fever and craving seafood porridge, so I asked him to make it for me. His response? "I’m already exhausted from work, and now you want me to serve you at home? Don’t you feel bad for me? Why don’t I just order takeout?"

I remember, foolishly, questioning whether I had asked too much. In the end, I didn’t get the porridge I longed for. Instead, I drank a box of milk and nibbled on a couple of dry pieces of bread.

Later that night, I woke up thirsty and stumbled to the kitchen to get some water. He complained that I was being too noisy, disturbing his sleep. So, I spent the rest of the night curled up on the sofa alone.

The next morning, he woke up early and, while changing his shoes, said, "If I finish work early today, I’ll bring you the seafood porridge."

He left without even acknowledging the breakfast I had prepared for him. I sat down to eat in silence, my phone in hand. That's when I saw Evelyn’s post.

“Who said he wanted to eat and got fed immediately? Hehe, it was me.”

The photo showed two elaborate breakfasts and a buttery croissant, one of those rare delicacies you had to arrive early for. The person holding the buttery croissant had a watch on their wrist that I knew all too well — it was the birthday gift I had just given Liam.

What did I feel at that moment? Heartache, frustration, anger, but no despair. I used to believe that one day, I would replace Evelyn. But now, I have given up on that dream.

During my hospital stay, I wasn’t idle. I confirmed orders with my partner and made arrangements to sign the contract once I was discharged. My father also sent over wedding dress and ring designs, telling me that my fiancé had carefully selected them. Everything was in place, waiting for me to come home.

As I stared at the beautiful wedding dress and the massive engagement ring, a small part of me felt a flicker of hope.

After several days of rest, my health slowly improved.

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, Liam finally remembered me. He called, but I didn’t answer.

When I returned home, I found him unexpectedly waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he rushed over to greet me.