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.

Every so often, Stella would step out to catch a movie or just to clear her head. Without Dominic in her life, everything felt lighter—less complicated. She was starting to rediscover what it meant to be herself again.

Peter called her every other day, his voice like a constant reminder of home. "Didn't we agree you'd be back in a week? It's been five days already. What’s taking you so long?"

Stella smiled as she listened to his familiar nagging. Hearing someone care so much about the details of her life was oddly comforting. For a moment, she felt really happy. It was the kind of joy that she hadn't experienced in a while.

"Come on, Pete! A week is seven days, not five," she teased, enjoying the easy back-and-forth.

Peter paused, clearly caught off guard.

"Wait, really?" he chuckled. "I could've sworn it's five." Then, he diverted the conversation. "Anyway, let's get serious. Isn’t tomorrow your birthday? Your fiancé’s been sending gifts like crazy. Your room's practically overflowing."

Stella raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. "He’s more thoughtful than your little boyfriend, don’t you think?"

The mention of her fiancé made Stella pause for a moment. "How does he know it’s my birthday? Did you tell him?"

Before she could worry further, Peter scoffed. "I didn’t say a word. I have no idea how he found out, but listen—those who care don’t need to be taught, and those who don’t care can’t be taught."

Stella couldn’t help but laugh at that. "By the way, didn’t your little boyfriend do anything for your birthday?"

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the conversation. "What do you mean, 'do anything'?"

Stella froze.

Peter nearly dropped the phone. "Dominic?! Is that—Is he there? Why is he there at this hour?!"

Stella’s heart skipped a beat. Panic surged, but she quickly scrambled to cover her tracks. "You must’ve heard wrong. It's just the movie. I’m gonna take a shower now. We’ll talk later."

She hung up quickly, her hands trembling slightly.

Dominic was standing there, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, like a child who had just pulled off the perfect prank.

Stella’s eyes narrowed, instantly cold. "Why are you back all of a sudden?"

Dominic, as casual as ever, didn’t miss a beat. "This is my house. Why wouldn’t I come back?"

Stella went silent. That’s right. This wasn’t her home.

He shrugged, completely unbothered, and shifted the conversation. "Get dressed. I’m taking you out for your birthday."

Stella glanced at the clock. There were still thirty minutes until midnight.

Half an hour later, her phone buzzed nonstop with birthday wishes and money transfers from family and friends:

[Happy Birthday, Stella! Another year older, may you grow with joy!]

[Happy Birthday, my dear daughter! Not just today, but may every day be filled with happiness!]

[Dear sister, I wish you a wonderful birthday! You’re 23 now, so it’s time to show some respect to your brother, haha!]

The messages made her smile. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the warmth they brought. She sent her thanks to each one. But when she looked up again, her face shifted into something colder, more distant.

Dominic had promised to take her out for her birthday, but instead, she found just one of his meaningless gatherings with friends. It was the kind of get-together where everyone was polite, but no one was present. No one was really there.

Everyone exchanged subtle, awkward glances. Dominic, however, barely seemed to notice her at all. His attention was focused entirely on Celine, who sat across the room, talking animatedly.

On the other hand, Stella found herself sitting alone in the corner, a sad, lonely cake in front of her. No candles. No one sang her a birthday song. No one even looked at her like she mattered.

She was supposed to be the star of the night. The birthday girl. But in that moment, it felt like she didn’t even exist.

It didn’t take much for Stella to see through Dominic’s game. He hadn’t brought her here because he cared. He’d brought her to provoke Celine. They’d fought, and now Dominic was using her to stir up jealousy in Celine. It was petty. Childish. Pathetic.

Stella couldn’t help but feel a bitter mockery rising inside her. This is what happens to people who aren’t loved.

After what felt like an eternity, exhaustion began to settle in. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body tired from the emotional strain. She leaned back in her seat, trying to push the loneliness away.

It was getting harder to care.

Without warning, Dominic grabbed Stella's wrist, his grip shackling her.

Stella winced, her brow furrowing as she glanced up at him. His eyes, however, were fixed on Celine, who was laughing and chatting with another guy, clearly enjoying herself. The sight made Stella's stomach twist, but she didn't let it show.

She sighed, trying to remove her hand, but Dominic's grip wouldn't budge.

"If you can't hold it in any longer," he snapped, his voice sharp with frustration, "just go apologize and make up."

Stella’s chest tightened. 'Why was it always her who had to be the one to fix things when Dominic fought with Celine?'

She bit back her frustration, but it was getting harder to hold on.

It wasn't until Celine reached for a third bottle of alcohol, about to drink herself into oblivion, that Dominic finally lost his cool. He snatched the bottle out of her hand with a force that startled everyone in the room.

“Drinking this much? Are you trying to kill yourself?” he hissed, his voice full of disbelief.

But Celine wasn't having it. She shot him a hurt look, almost playful like she wasn't taking him seriously at all.

“Why do you care what I do?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aren't you supposed to be spending time with your girlfriend? For her birthday?”

Her eyes flickered toward Stella, a malicious gleam flashing in them.

At that moment, every eye in the room turned toward Stella. The atmosphere grew thick with mockery. Subtle smirks, quiet whispers, and veiled malice surrounded her. But she didn't flinch. She met their stares with a calm that bordered on eerie, unshaken. No shame. No embarrassment.

She had been here before.

Celine took a few deliberate steps toward Stella, her bottle still in hand, a smug grin spreading across her face. "Stella, everyone says I'm just the clingy mistress, and you're the real girlfriend. But that's not true.”

Her voice cracked as she feigned crying. "I'm just sick, okay? I want Nicky to spend more time with me. You won't mind, right?”

Her words came out in desperation, but Stella didn't buy it for a second.

Stella let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “I do mind. If you didn't mind, you wouldn't be clinging to him, would you?"

The bluntness of Stella's remark surprised Celine. She froze, and her eyes widened, unsure of how to respond. Stella had caught her off guard for once, and there was no way out.

Before Celine could regroup, Dominic stepped in, his brow furrowing in confusion and disappointment. He placed himself between them, making Stella look like she had just kicked a puppy.

"Celine has depression. Why are you picking on her?" he asked, his tone full of doubt.

He turned to Stella, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Apologize to Celine."

Stella's eyes hardened. She couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to her like that.

She gave him a cold, dismissive sneer before returning to Celine. Without missing a beat, Stella grabbed the bottle from Celine's hand, tilted it back, and downed it in one go.

Still smiling, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Enjoy yourselves, everyone, but I'll pass."

With that, she turned and walked away, heading for the bathroom.

Once inside, she vomited violently, her stomach churning as the room spun around her. It felt like she was purging every last bit of her patience, every ounce of her hope.

After a few minutes, she leaned against the bathroom sink, trying to steady herself. Her body trembled as she gathered her thoughts.

The door opened with a creak, and Celine walked in, flanked by two of her followers. The usual smile was gone, replaced by a cold, vicious glare.

The girls quickly closed in on Stella, pinning her down with ease.

Without warning, Celine slapped her. The sound of skin-on-skin echoed in the small space.

The sting of the slap shot through Stella's cheek, shocking her more than anything else.

"Stella,” Celine sneered, her voice laced with venom. "Do you think your little game of 'playing hard to get' is working? Do you think Nicky will fall for you because of this? Let me show you whether he loves you or me."

Stella’s eyes narrowed, her breath coming in shallow bursts, but Celine's behavior turned darker before she could speak.

In an unexpected and disturbing move, Celine began slapping herself—hard. Each strike was more forceful than the last until her face was bruised and swollen, her skin an angry shade of red. The manic laughter that followed made Stella's skin crawl.

This wasn't depression. No, this looked more like mania.

Before Stella could process what was happening, the door burst open. Dominic appeared frantic, his eyes wide with panic.

The moment Celine saw him, she collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Nicky!” she cried, her voice a jumbled mess of desperation. "I just wanted to care for Stella, but… she… she hit me! What did I do wrong?”

Her words were incoherent, her body trembling as she buried her face in his chest. "I know Stella's your girlfriend, I get it. I'm just the past, but I can't stop loving you. Do I not even have the right to love you anymore silently?”

Her tears poured down her face, her sobs so loud they seemed to fill the entire room.

Dominic's expression softened, pity flooding his gaze as he looked down at Celine. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. But then, his eyes flickered toward Stella.

Fury twisted his face.

“Stella, have you gone crazy?!” he shouted, his voice rising angrily. "How could you be so cruel?!"

His words hit Stella like a slap. 'Vicious?'

She felt a sickening twist in her stomach.

"If anything happens to Celine," Dominic hissed, "you'll pay big time!"

His words were a punch to the gut. Without waiting for her to respond, Dominic scooped Celine up in his arms, rushing toward the door with desperation.

Without a second glance at Stella, he bolted out of the room, his footsteps echoing as he rushed to the hospital.

And Stella stood there, her body trembling, her mind reeling.