Stella kept her relationship with Dominic hidden, a secret affair that kept her away from home for four long years. She had convinced herself she could live with the secrecy, distance, and constant waiting. But after a year, things began to change.

Dominic started staying out all night. His phone's password, once her birthday, was now a code she couldn't crack.

It wasn't until two weeks ago, when Stella accidentally stumbled upon a message thread on Dominic's phone, that the truth came crashing down.

Celine Montgomery, Dominic's first love, was back in town.

At first, Stella refused to believe it. She'd convinced herself she was overthinking it and that it was nothing. But her curiosity got the best of her, and she added Celine on social media.

And there it was, laid out in front of her:

Celine's Moments—photos of her and Dominic, laughing, hugging, kissing.

It wasn't a fling. It was real. It had been going on for over a year.

The moment Stella saw those photos, the truth hit her. She wasn't his girlfriend. She was just a placeholder. Dominic found her when bored and his real love wasn't around. He'd used her as a distraction until Celine came back.

It took her two weeks to process everything. Two weeks to mourn the future she thought they'd have. Two weeks to admit to herself that she had been a fool. But even then, the hardest part was realizing how easily she had been replaced.

Stella forced herself to eat, though her appetite had vanished. She glanced at the cake in front of her—"Happy Third Anniversary" scrawled across the top—and a pang hit her chest.

Without thinking, she grabbed the cake and threw it in the trash. Inside it was the engagement ring she had been holding onto so desperately.

She'd kept a sliver of hope, a tiny spark that maybe, if she waited long enough, Dominic would choose her. But that slap earlier had destroyed that hope completely.

...

At midnight, Dominic finally staggered through the door.

He was barely standing, half-dragged in by Celine, reeking of alcohol. His shirt was untucked, his eyes bloodshot.

Celine smirked at Stella, a gleam in her eye. "You must be Stella, right?" she said sweetly, her voice laced with something else—victory, maybe. "Nicky talks about you all the time. You're such a good, obedient girl."

She would always call Dominic, 'Nicky', as if they were still together. With that, barely glancing at Celine, Stella took Dominic's arm, trying to close the door behind them.

But Celine quickly blocked it with her foot.

"Don't mind me," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Nicky's always felt sorry for me. I've been dealing with depression, and he's been keeping me company. If I'd known he had a girlfriend, I would never let him do this."

Her tone was syrupy, but her smile was smug, almost gloating.

Stella's stomach churned. "Are you done?" she asked, her voice flat and cold.

Celine seemed momentarily taken aback as if expecting more of a reaction—maybe anger, maybe tears. But Stella gave her nothing. She didn't even flinch.

Without waiting for a reply, Stella slammed the door shut.

She moved into the kitchen and started preparing some sobering soup for Dominic, setting it on the counter in front of him.

As she watched him slowly begin to come around, a heavy weight settled in her chest. She'd done what she needed to do for him, as always.

But this time, it felt different.

She turned to leave, planning to head to her room, but Dominic grabbed her wrist, pulling her into his lap.

"Are you angry?" he slurred, his voice rough, his fingers grazing the swollen side of her face. His touch was almost tender like he was petting a wounded animal.

"Sorry, Stella. I shouldn't have hit you."

She pulled back slightly, her heart heavy but her expression unreadable.

"It's fine," she said, her voice distant. "I understand."

There was no bitterness in her words, no anger—just resignation.

To stand up for someone you love, to be indifferent or even violent toward those who don't matter—it was human nature, after all.

Dominic, oblivious to her detached response, smiled in relief. "You're amazing, Stella," he said, his voice softening. "Let me show you the gift I got you."

He pulled out a shiny necklace and fastened it around her neck.

Stella froze. The necklace was beautiful, but something in her chest twisted. She hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Happy third anniversary, babe," Dominic said, grinning like he'd just won a prize.

In the past, that would've been enough to make her feel like the luckiest girl alive. She would've cried, laughed, kissed him.

But now, all she could think about was seeing the exact same necklace around Celine's neck just ten minutes ago.

She smiled bitterly to herself.

Was this really what she was worth?

Was this how the "stand-in" was treated?

In the past, when Dominic had mentioned how much he liked dark green hair, Stella had dyed her hair in dark green waves, even though she'd loved her black hair. When he'd said he wanted her to wear spaghetti straps, her entire wardrobe had been filled with them.

Whenever they went on a date, Dominic insisted on Italian food, even though Stella had never been fond of it.

But none of it mattered now. None of it was enough.

Stella found herself resenting everything Celine liked, including the necklace Dominic had just given her. It felt like a symbol of someone else's love—someone else's devotion—something she no longer wanted. Standing there, she lowered her gaze, subtly distancing herself from him.

With a long, tired sigh, she finally spoke. "It's late, Dominic. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

Behind her, she heard his voice soften, still pleading. "Stella, you know Celine has depression... please, try to understand."

His words hit her like a dull ache. They were a reminder of everything she had sacrificed.

Dominic continued, attempting to soften the blow. "Once Celine gets better, I'll be able to be with you all the time."

Stella swallowed hard, the bitterness rising in her throat. "There won't be a future."

...

The next morning, Stella woke early, the weight of the previous night still lingering. She didn't waste any time overthinking it. Instead, she headed straight to the hair salon.

The dark green waves that had once been Dominic's request—his preference—were gone. She was back to her natural black, straight hair. The hair she had always loved, the one that felt like her.

She spent the rest of the day shopping for clothes she liked—clothes that made her feel like herself, not someone else's idea of who she should be. No more spaghetti straps. No more pretending to fit into a mold that was never hers.

It felt liberating.

But then, as she scrolled through her phone, her stomach sank when she saw a notification for Celine's live stream. She froze. She knew exactly what it meant.

More of Dominic, Celine, and everything she was trying to forget.

With a resigned sigh, she canceled all the accounts related to Celine. The streams were always the same—Celine, with Dominic by her side, always playing the part of the perfect couple. He'd even declared Celine his "personal assistant," promising to protect her from anyone who might hurt her.

But to Stella, the most painful part wasn't the promises. It was the way Dominic would always talk about her.

"I'll take care of you. You don't need to work," he'd say. The words cut deeper than any betrayal.

Stella shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside. She was done with Dominic. Done with Celine.

Or so she thought.

...

As she turned a corner in the mall, she nearly bumped into them.

There they were—Dominic and Celine—laughing together as they shopped. Dominic was carrying several shopping bags, his eyes soft with affection, his smile warm and easy.

And Celine? She was live-streaming, of course, beaming at the camera, looking every bit the picture-perfect couple.

Stella's stomach twisted. She glanced down at her phone, her thumb scrolling absent-mindedly.

Ten minutes ago, Dominic sent her a message:

[I'm working, I'll bring you something delicious tonight.]

'Working? Shopping with Celine, eating, live-streaming?' Stella huffed in frustration

The absurdity of it all hit her in a wave, and she couldn't help but laugh—bitterly and loud enough to draw attention.

Celine noticed her first, waving at her with a wide smile as if she hadn't just witnessed Dominic comforting Stella earlier.

Dominic faltered for a moment, and then his expression hardened. He frowned. "Why did you dye your hair back?" His voice was laced with disapproval, though it sounded more like a complaint than genuine concern.

Stella didn't even glance at Celine's camera. She wasn't about to be part of their little performance. "I like it this way," she said flatly, keeping her tone neutral, her heart completely detached.

Without waiting for a response, she added, "I won't disturb your live-stream," before turning on her heel and leaving them behind.

Dominic watched her leave, his gaze darkening for a moment. But as his eyes moved to Celine, his expression softened. He smiled almost reassuringly.

"It's fine. Stella won't mind," he said, though the words seemed more for his own benefit than anyone else's.

Celine, who had already turned off the stream, looked up at Dominic, her eyes glistening with feigned concern.

"Nicky, Stella seems upset. It's all my fault." Her voice wavered, dripping with needy desperation. "But... I only have you. You can't leave me."

Dominic, as always, softened at her pleas. He pulled Celine into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "It's okay, Celine. Don't worry, I'm here for you."

Stella stood there, watching the scene unfold from afar. It felt like a punch to the gut. For a moment, she couldn't even tell who was supposed to be Dominic's real girlfriend anymore.

But, honestly? It didn't matter.

Soon, she wouldn't be anyone's girlfriend at all. And Dominic, she realized with a sudden clarity, wasn't worth her love.

...

A week later, as she prepared to return to the capital, Stella decided it was time to pack up her room—time to remove the last remnants of the life she was leaving behind.

Her room was filled with things Dominic had chosen for her and things he'd bought. The small spaghetti straps he'd insisted she wear. The luxury gifts he'd given her...

Everything Stella had once cherished, which had felt like treasures, was now being packed away. Her belongings were few, a collection of old clothes and trinkets. One suitcase was enough to carry it all.

As she sifted through the pile, her eyes landed on a framed photo of herself and Dominic sitting on the desk.

For a moment, she froze. The warmth of his past kindness still lingered in her memory—clear, almost too sharp.

A thought from her school days popped into her mind:

'Is it better to never have regrets, or is it worse to have something than lose it and live with that regret?' The question twisted her stomach.

It had been so easy to fall for Dominic, to give him everything. But now, as she stood in this room surrounded by the remnants of a life she was leaving behind, Stella wasn't sure if it had all been worth it.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts, gathering the things she'd sorted out and ready to throw them away. It took several trips to the trash bins to dispose of everything.

She didn't look back.

"Why are you downstairs?" Dominic's voice broke through her thoughts as he walked in, his tone lazy. He grabbed her hand without looking at her, his eyes still fixed on his phone. His other hand was typing furiously, fingers flying over the screen as though he were racing against time.

Stella didn't meet his gaze.

She pulled her hand away and kept her voice even. "Just throwing out some trash."

Dominic didn't respond immediately, humming absently, unsure if he'd even heard her. But as they reached the door, he finally looked up from his phone.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, noticing something was off.

Stella pulled her hand out of his grasp and kept her face impassive. "Nothing."

Dominic set his phone down, finally giving her his full attention. His expression shifted, and he stepped closer, his arm slipping around her waist, pulling her toward him with practiced ease.

"Are you mad again?" he asked teasingly, his voice softening with the same relaxed tone he always used when he thought he could charm her back.

In the past, this would have made Stella melt. She would have believed it was a sign that Dominic still cared. But with time, she'd learned that Dominic treated everyone with that same detached affection. It wasn't real.

And when it came to Celine, it was a whole different story. With her, Dominic was tender, protective, and even nervous. It was a kind of care Stella could never envy.

He stroked her hair, trying to soften the mood. "I was working today, but Celine said she was bored and wanted to go to the mall. She insisted, and I couldn't say no."

He continued, oblivious to how the words landed. "I didn't expect to see you there. Why didn't you tell me you were going?"

Stella raised an eyebrow, her voice flat. "If I had told you, would you have left Celine behind to be with me?"

For three years, Dominic had never been with her on a simple shopping trip. His excuse had always been that it would be too awkward—that someone might see them and expose their relationship.

But now, with Celine back in the picture, suddenly, those concerns didn't matter. Dominic no longer cared about looking awkward. He only cared about pleasing Celine.

"Stella," Dominic chuckled, his tone patronizing. "You're being stubborn, baby. Do you want me to punish you?"

He leaned in to kiss her, his lips hovering just a breath away.

But Stella pulled back, her eyes hardening.

Dominic's smile faltered, and his face darkened. His patience, once a constant with her, seemed to drain instantly.

"Stella, stop being unreasonable." His voice dropped, frustration creeping in. "I've already explained that Celine has depression. I need to be there for her." His tone grew sharper like he couldn't believe she wasn't getting it. "You're always jealous, making things difficult for Celine and me. Can't you just be a little more understanding?"

Stella's lips curled into a bitter smile. She let out a short, humorless laugh.

Dominic frowned, clearly confused. "What's so funny?"

Stella met his gaze, her voice steady but cold. "I'm not jealous, Dom." She paused, her eyes narrowing, a slight edge to her voice. "And I won't be jealous of you ever again."

Before she could finish, Dominic's expression turned ice-cold. His face hardened into something unrecognizable.

"Are you trying to be sarcastic?" he snapped.

Without waiting for an answer, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Stella couldn't help but laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than amusement.

Was he really falling apart over this?

Dominic didn't return home for several days after that. Stella kept herself busy. She scrolled through job listings online, looking for positions in the city.

Although her family could easily help her find something, she wanted to prove she could make it alone.