On New Year’s Eve, the Ferris wheel trembled violently, plunging in its descent. Panic overwhelmed me as I clung to the unstable seat, my calls for help swallowed by the chaos.

Through the blinding flashes of fireworks, I spotted James—my fiancé—standing safely on the ground, holding the nanny’s daughter close. Desperation gripped me, and I shouted his name. He glanced up, his gaze cold and detached.

“I’m busy. Don’t bother me,” he replied curtly, dismissing me as if I were a stranger.

By the time I was rushed to the hospital, my panic attack had rendered me breathless, my heart racing to a breaking point. James arrived reluctantly, the only semblance of family I had. His eyes swept over my pale, tear-streaked face, filled with unmistakable disdain.

“Charlotte,” he hissed, “do you have to cause trouble today? If you want to die, do it far away from me.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, taking Mia’s hand in his. The sight of them walking away tore at my chest.

Curled up on the cold hospital bed, I sobbed uncontrollably. My anguish consumed me, dragging me into another wave of panic. My heart stuttered and stopped, leaving me teetering on the edge of life. After a desperate battle in the ICU, I regained consciousness, trembling fingers fumbling for my phone.

A single thought burned through my haze: I couldn’t stay here any longer. I needed to leave.

——

Memories of James’ promises haunted me. He’d said he’d take me to ride the Ferris wheel that night, to confess his love in a place closest to the heavens so we could seal our bond for eternity. But instead, he abandoned me. He took Mia to watch the fireworks, her whims outweighing every vow he’d made to me.

Determined for answers, I asked the driver to follow them to the amusement park. Confronting him, my voice quivered with betrayal.

“Didn’t you promise to ride the Ferris wheel with me tonight?”

James frowned, his irritation evident. Behind him, Mia clutched his arm like a helpless rabbit.

“I told you, I’m busy. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” he said dismissively.

Refusing to back down, I reached out to pull him toward me, but he shoved me away with startling force.

“Charlotte, you’re pathetic. Do you really still believe in such childish promises?” His words cut deeper than any wound.

I reached out to grab Mia, desperate to disrupt the scene unraveling before me, but James shoved me away again. His movements were swift, protective, as if shielding her from me.

“Don’t touch her!” he barked, his arms encircling her as though I was a threat.

In that moment, I realized I’d already lost him. He turned his back on me, guiding Mia away without a second glance, leaving me standing there, shattered and alone.

“Miss Wilson, your Ferris wheel reservation is coming up. Are you on your way?” the staff called, jolting me from my daze. I checked the time—it was nearly midnight.

I had planned everything for this moment: a private ride on the Ferris wheel, candles, a cake, and the perfect backdrop for James’ promised confession. I wanted it to be magical, a memory we’d treasure forever. But now, James had broken his promise, leaving me to face the night alone.

My phone buzzed incessantly, friends eagerly asking about James' grand gesture. Their excitement was a cruel contrast to the reality unraveling before me. Fighting the sting of tears, I forced myself toward the Ferris wheel.

As it began its ascent, the amusement park below stretched into a dazzling canvas of lights and shadows. At the highest point, I lit the candles on the cake and snapped a photo, posting it with a caption designed to mask my heartache, “The most special time, the most special day, with you.”

In the photo, I smiled softly, as if this moment was everything I’d hoped for. My friends flooded the post with well wishes, their comments filled with joy and hope.

“May you and James be happy forever!”

But the fragile illusion shattered in an instant. Mia’s Instagram post appeared on my feed, mocking my carefully constructed lie.

“The most beautiful fireworks in life—he said he’d set them off just for me.”

Her photo captured James holding her hand, their faces illuminated by the vibrant bursts of fireworks. Mia’s smile radiated pure joy, a stark contrast to the emptiness consuming me.

After Mia’s post appeared, the friends who had just left cheerful messages under mine began flooding me with questions, “Weren’t you spending New Year’s Eve with James? Who’s the one in Mia’s photo?”

“No way! Am I seeing things? Shameless Mia spent New Year’s Eve with you two?”

“Charlotte, what’s going on? Did you and James break up?”

Their words blurred together, each question a dagger twisting in my chest. I stared at the screen, struggling to think of a response, my mind reeling. Before I could type a single word, a notification appeared that shattered what little composure I had left.

James had liked Mia’s Instagram. Below her photo, he commented:

“The most beautiful fireworks in life—I’ll be there to set them off with you, always.”

The betrayal in his words felt like a knife slicing through me. My breath caught as I watched the friends who had been so eager to celebrate with me quietly delete their comments from my post, as if erasing their presence would erase my humiliation.

I smiled bitterly, deleted my Instagram post, and exited the application. Turning off my phone, I wiped away the tears streaming down my face and gazed into the distance.

Fireworks burst in the sky, their dazzling colors blooming and fading in mere Instagram. They reminded me of James' love—brilliant and fleeting, disappearing without a trace.

As I sank deeper into my sorrow, something unexpected happened. The Ferris wheel, now parked at its highest point, jolted violently and began to fall uncontrollably. Panic surged through me as I fumbled for my phone to call the staff.

The staff worked frantically, trying every possible measure to prevent disaster, but their efforts seemed futile. My chest tightened, and desperation overtook me. In a haze of fear, I dialed James' number, hoping to hear his voice one last time.

“James, the Ferris wheel is out of control. I’m so scared,” I stammered, my voice trembling as I clung to the railings for dear life.

His cold reply cut through the chaos like a blade, “I’m busy. Don’t bother me.”

The line went dead. My heart plummeted, mirroring the Ferris wheel’s descent. I shut my eyes, bracing for the inevitable, the ground rushing closer with every passing second.

A deafening crash echoed around me, and I waited, resigned to my fate, my heart numb with despair. But just as disaster seemed unavoidable, the Ferris wheel miraculously ground to a halt. I had been spared—barely.

The relief was short-lived. My panic disorder took hold, and I spiraled into uncontrollable shaking and screams. The staff rushed to my aid, and I was quickly taken to the hospital.

In the ambulance, terror consumed me, my screams piercing the air until the doctor administered enough sedatives to finally calm me down.

In the hospital, the doctor repeatedly asked me about my relatives, but fear had stolen my voice. My attempts to answer were fragmented and incoherent. Frustrated but gentle, the doctor unlocked my phone with Face ID and called my emergency contact.

“Hello! Are you Miss Mia of the Wilson’s family?”

I listened in silence as the doctor patiently explained my situation to the person on the other end of the line. Tears streamed down my face, unbidden and unstoppable.

My parents had both passed away in an accident years ago. James was the only person I had left, my designated emergency contact. But deep down, I knew he wouldn’t come—not tonight, not for me.

The sedatives began to take effect, pulling me into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When I awoke, faint whispers and the sound of hurried pacing filled the room. My eyes fluttered open, and there he was—James—walking back and forth in front of my bed. His expression seemed anxious, almost frantic. For a fleeting moment, hope swelled within me.

He came. He still cares about me.

“James, she’s awake,” Mia’s soft, syrupy voice broke the spell.

James quickly approached me, his eyes scanning my pale, tear-streaked face. But instead of warmth or concern, all I saw in his gaze was cold indifference—and unmistakable disgust.

I opened my mouth, desperate to tell him everything: my fear during the accident, my longing for him, my pain. But before I could utter a single word, his cold voice slashed through the air like a blade, cutting me to pieces.

“Charlotte, do you have to create trouble today? If you want to die, do it far away.”

James' words hit me like a slap, his frown deepening as a wave of anger flickered in his eyes.

He took out my phone, the cold device, a stark contrast to the warmth I had once associated with him, and thrust it into my trembling hands. “Unlock it. Change the emergency contact.”

My heart clenched, and I whispered, voice trembling, “James, I don’t have anyone else. You’re the only family I have left.”

But my plea fell on deaf ears. His expression didn’t soften; his eyes showed no trace of pity or understanding. Instead, he repeated coldly, “Hurry up. Don’t make me say it again.”

My hands, still trembling from the lingering effects of the panic attack, couldn’t stop shaking long enough to type the password. Each failed attempt felt like another weight pressing down on my chest.

Mia’s voice broke the tension, her tone sweet yet piercing. “James, doesn’t she have Face ID? Just let her scan her face to unlock it and delete the contact. It’s faster that way.”

Mia’s words seemed to spark an idea in James. Without hesitation, he yanked me up from the bed, his grip firm and unyielding, and pressed my head against the phone to unlock it with Face ID.

The beep of success was a cruel sound. James wasted no time, scrolling through the settings and erasing his number from my emergency contacts.

“There,” he said coldly. “You’re in a hospital now. If anything happens, talk to the doctors. I’ll cover the bills, but don’t contact me again.”

He tossed the phone onto the bed, his disdain evident, then turned to Mia. Together, they began walking out of the room.

“James,” Mia said softly, glancing back at me with a mock expression of worry. “Are you sure this is okay? What if… she really doesn’t make it?”

James chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with scorn. “You’re overthinking. If she wanted to die, she’d have done it three years ago. She doesn’t have the guts for it.”

Mia let out a sigh of relief and turned to me with a sweet yet condescending smile. “Charlotte, take care of yourself, okay? James and I are going to celebrate the New Year. Don’t worry, I’ll visit you in a couple of days.”

Their footsteps faded, leaving the room silent but for the sound of my ragged breathing. I curled up under the quilt, my tears soaking the pillow as sobs wracked my body.

James was right. I should have died three years ago—in that disaster that took everything from me.

The weight of despair consumed me, and I spiraled into another panic attack. The piercing alarm of the ECG monitor echoed through the room, a frantic cry for help.

Doctors and nurses burst into the ward, their faces tense. “She’s in distress! Prepare for emergency resuscitation!”

“Charging, defibrillation at 200 Hz—clear!”

The doctor’s urgent voice faded as my consciousness blurred, and I slipped into an abyss of endless darkness.

In that darkness, memories from three years ago resurfaced—the disaster that shattered all my happiness.

I found myself reliving those days with James. We have known each other since childhood, growing up side by side. It wasn’t an exaggeration to call us childhood sweethearts.

That fateful summer, James had a fierce argument with his parents and, in his anger, insisted on running away. He dragged me along, and we ended up hiding in an abandoned mine.

We stayed there for an entire week, with no word from our families. At first, we were stubborn, believing they would come looking for us. But as the days passed, hope dwindled.

Finally, we ran out of food. The hunger and cold were unbearable. My body weakened, but I forced myself to carry James on my back, trembling as I dialed my parents for help.

The moment my parents heard where we had been, they came rushing to find us.

“You foolish child! I thought you were just out playing with James,” my mother cried, her voice thick with worry and heartbreak.

When I ran away with James, I was terrified of worrying my parents, so I left a note at home saying I was just going out to play with him for a few days.

I reassured my mom as she arrived, asking with concern, "I’m fine, Mom. Did you bring the things I wanted?" I comforted her, thinking I’d send them away once I had what I needed.

But my father, face tight with anxiety, wasn’t as understanding. “Do you still want to keep making trouble? No, you two need to go back today,” he insisted.

He stormed into the mine to look for James, his frustration palpable.

“Traitor! Charlotte, you’re a traitor!” My father’s angry voice echoed as he dragged James out of the mine, who was clearly unwilling to go.

Seeing James' resistance, my mother stepped forward, trying to calm him down.

“James, your parents are worried about you. Come back with us.”

But James, stubborn as ever, seized the moment when my father was distracted. He slammed the car door on my dad’s hand and ran back toward the mine.

Ignoring his injury, my father immediately ran after him, leaving my mother to hold my hand, urging me to wait outside.

Minutes later, James emerged from the mine, his face full of panic.

He pointed urgently at the mine. “Aunt Marie, go save Uncle Lester!”

My mother didn’t hesitate. She sprinted into the mine, and I immediately followed. James tried to stop me, but I was too quick, and he had no choice but to come along.

The mine was thick with smoke, and the scene inside was chaos. My father was pinned under a mass of falling rocks, his body struggling but immobile.

My mother rushed toward him, but another wave of rocks struck her, sending her crashing to the ground. Blood pooled around her, and she lay there, weak and on the verge of death.

“Charlotte, go! It’s dangerous here! Leave with James! Quickly!”