It was Independence Day, a day meant for celebration, but more importantly, it marked my welcome home party after years abroad. I eagerly waited for my boyfriend of five years, Nathan Cross, to arrive. Yet, when he arrived late, he wasn’t alone. By his side was a young woman with a smug smile plastered on her face.

As she stepped forward, she sneered at me, a mix of mockery and innocence, “Hannah Collins, you must be quite old now after going abroad for a doctorate,” she quipped.

“At your age, aren’t your parents pressuring you to marry?” Her next words sliced through me like glass, “Oh, I forgot—your parents are long gone, aren’t they?”

I froze, my smile faltering. But instead of defending me, Nathan, who has always loved and cared for me, only chuckled. He ruffled her hair affectionately and said, “Olivia Grace is just a kid. She doesn’t know better. You are more mature. Don’t take it to heart, okay?”

My chest tightened. I later caught them locked in a passionate kiss in the corner of the venue. “I’d never marry her,” Nathan murmured, his voice rough with desire. “And you—don’t you dare marry anyone else.”

Later, I left him and married someone else, just like he wanted. But before I could entirely escape, he ran abroad for a few days without sleep to steal the marriage, kneeling before me with bloodshot eyes and trembling hands.

“Please, don’t marry him. Don’t leave me.”

***

At the celebration party, my boyfriend Nathan sent a message that he might be late.

His friends teased me earlier, “Nathan may have prepared some gifts for you. Look at that diamond ring when you got engaged. Nathan really spends a lot of money on you!”

I smiled, my heart swelling with warmth at the thought of him. When we met later, I was thinking about how to jump into his arms. After three years of being in a long-distance relationship while studying abroad, I was already going crazy thinking about him.

Nathan arrived late two hours later when the celebration party was about to break up. There was a young woman by his side. I ran towards him and stopped my steps. I saw that the engagement ring that originally belonged to me was now on the young woman’s hand.

His friend stared wide-eyed and came to Nathan’s side to ask in a whisper, “Are you crazy? What are you doing bringing her here!”

Nathan was rather unimpressed, “What’s wrong with that? Olivia wanted to come, so I brought her here.”

Noticing me staring at the ring, Nathan flashed a hint of panic before explaining carelessly, “You weren’t using it anyway, so I let Olivia wear it for fun.”

“Hannah, you must not mind, right?”

I froze. That ring, he used to be furious if anyone else touched it. Now surprisingly reduced to a toy.

Looking at the boyfriend in front of me, I suddenly felt strange. The thoughtful man he was before would never talk to me like this.

Olivia glanced at me and provocatively threw the ring on the ground, “I wouldn’t want to keep something an old woman’s worn anyway.”

The ring bounced on the ground for a few rounds before finally jumping into the fire.

Nathan didn’t even look at the ring and hurriedly put her hand into his own, checking them frantically.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

I arched my body and instinctively tried to pick the ring up.

The memories of words Nathan said when he proposed to me seemed to flood my mind,

‘Hannah, I love you. I swear I’ll love you until the sea runs dry.’

His promises of eternal love and a future together now felt like cruel lies.

Noticing the sights of my friends around me, I stopped my movements. Not to look too lousy.

***

My face must have betrayed my turmoil because my friends quickly intervened.

“Olivia, that was out of line! Apologize to Hannah right now!”

Olivia was unconvinced and bristled, “Why should I? She probably cursed her parents to death anyway. I’m afraid that wearing this ring will stain the bad luck!”

“You-!”

This matter is a permanent pain in my heart.

I don’t dare to imagine how Nathan told his lover as a joke about the past that I was most reluctant to mention.

I couldn’t bear it anymore and raised my arm high to strike.

Nathan subconsciously pulled her behind himself.

“What will you do!”

Almost simultaneously, my friends went over to protect her without thinking,

“She is just a kid! Don’t take it personally!!” said my friend.

“Yeah, she didn’t mean any harm, Hannah. I know how she is!” said another.

I paused. What an ironic layout.

I stood there, numb, as the people I once trusted turned against me. My best friends and boyfriend were now on her side and I stood against them.

After three years abroad, it turns out that without realizing it, things have changed.

Nathan scolded me sternly, “Have you made enough of a scene? Olivia has a point, right? You’re the one who caused your parents’ deaths! Is there anything wrong with that? A trip abroad, the scenery of the good life enough. These things have made you forget that, huh!”

The air was sucked from my lungs. Tears stung my eyes as the weight of his words pressed down on me. Nathan always knows where to hurt me the most.

Yes, he was right.

As a child, I insisted on a sugary treat, which led my parents to turn the car around. Naturally, they wouldn’t have met a truck driver who didn’t follow traffic rules. And wouldn’t have gotten into a car accident. If not for me, they would still be alive.

Three years abroad by myself, I endured fear, loneliness, helplessness and poverty. There were no “good times” to be had.

The moment tears crossed my cheeks, I realized. I was still crying.

Realizing that he had said too much, Nathan subconsciously wanted to come over to comfort me. However, Olivia pulled him back.

The several pairs of eyes on the opposite side of the room were all staring straight at my mess.

A familiar helplessness flooded in. I fled to the restroom, clutching the sink as sobs wracked my body.

Memories of our relationship flashed through my mind. Actually, I should have noticed. We were talking less and less, calling less and less frequently. Often, there wouldn’t be more than three sentences in the chat box in a week. I had long since forgotten the last time I had made a video call with him.

I gathered my courage and returned when I unexpectedly saw my boyfriend kissing Olivia.

Olivia was full of disinterest, “It doesn’t matter if you marry her, ah. I will find someone else to marry if you do!”

Nathan was visibly upset, fiercely bit her lips and said,

“I am not marrying that old woman! Don’t you dare marry someone else either!”

As the gathering ended, friends trickled out one by one. The festive air dissipated, leaving a strange hollowness in its wake.

My phone rang, startling me. Mechanically, I answered.

“Hannah! You’re back in the country? You said you wouldn’t return—are you staying there?” A familiar voice buzzed on the line. When I didn’t respond, his tone turned desperate.

“Answer me!”

Finally, I croaked out a single sentence, “I’m… back.”

It didn’t matter anymore. My love, my friends—they had all replaced me with Olivia. This place, once a home, now felt foreign. There was nothing left for me here.

Victor Hayes sighed in relief then, realizing it was an afterthought.

“You’ve been crying, haven’t you? Tell me where you are. I’ll fly back and find you. Wait for me!”

A cold, familiar voice interrupted from behind just after hanging up the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” Nathan stood there, his expression dark and piercing. “A man? Who is he? Do I know him?”

Ignoring him, I walked away. But he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and unrelenting. His determination to get an answer was almost frightening.

Reluctantly, I lied. “A colleague, asking about some documents.”

Satisfied, he released me and tugged me toward the parking lot. “Let’s go. My parents are waiting for us at home.”

It was then I noticed Olivia was gone, having slipped out unnoticed.

My dad and Nathan’s dad were old war buddies. That was why I had lived in Nathan’s house since my dad passed away. As a matter of fact, I should go back and take a look.

It wasn’t until I was standing by his car that I noticed something was off. The passenger seat was accessorized with bright stickers spelling out Olivia Grace, a butterfly-print neck pillow labelled Princess Olivia’s Special Seat and a seat cover embroidered with her initials.

I hesitated for a long time, deciding whether or not to go to the back seat, my hand hovering over the door handle. Nathan glanced at me sideways. “Don’t sit there. Olivia hates it when anyone else does. You’re more understanding—take the back.”

I blinked at him, stunned. He remembered Olivia’s pet peeves but forgot my chronic carsickness, which made anything but the passenger seat unbearable. I didn’t say anything and opened the back seat door.

What met my eyes was a set of sexy red lace lingerie.

My mind raced. During the two hours, I had been waiting eagerly, full of excitement to see him, smiling and dreaming of his warm embrace. And what had they been doing in this car during those same hours? My stomach churned as reality mocked me—this was nothing short of a cruel joke.

***

When we arrived at his family home, his parents greeted me warmly.

“You’re back! Finally, you’re back!” His mother held my hands tightly, beaming with joy.

After some pleasantries, she pulled me aside to show me wedding invitations. “Hannah, which design do you like best? I’ve been trying to pick the perfect one for your wedding!”

“Wedding?” I stammered, taken aback. “But we—”

“Mom, don’t stress her out. Hannah just got back and must be exhausted.” Nathan’s casual interruption startled me. His tone was so… matter-of-fact. Was he genuinely planning to marry me? And if so, what about Olivia?

His parents shared an amused glance, his father chuckling. “This boy! He’s always been so devoted to you. He used to fly overseas to visit you all the time. Now, you’ll finally be together every day.”

Overseas? I froze. He had never once visited me. A flicker of panic crossed his face and he quickly changed the subject. Their words didn’t sit right with me. Something was off.

When I had a moment alone, I messaged a mutual friend, Madison Clarke.

Hannah: [Can you check Nathan’s social media from the past three years? Did he post anything about travelling?]

Her reply was almost immediate.

Madison: [Nope, nothing. Why?]

Still unconvinced, I contacted a few other friends. Their answers were the same: no posts, no visits, no evidence he had ever tried to see me.

Then I remembered. I had an old, forgotten secondary account that might give me a clearer picture. Logging in, I searched for his profile and opened his posts.

What I saw shattered me. A flood of posts, all featuring him and Olivia.

Photo after photo of him and Olivia filled the feed. Their faces beamed in selfies taken against backdrops of iconic landmarks. For three years, I had begged him to visit me. Each time, he’d said he was busy, that it wasn’t the right time. I’d waited alone in a foreign country, clinging to hope. But they had been travelling the world together—while I waited, begged and believed his excuses.

My vision blurred as the truth slammed into me. I wasn’t even worth a weekend trip when I was just a few hours away in a neighbouring country.

When I received my admission letter to study abroad, I hesitated. It wasn’t financially feasible. But Nathan’s generous and well-off parents insisted I pursue my doctorate. Through him, they transferred my tuition and living expenses for the first year.

In the beginning, I could get by with food and clothing, but it only lasted for a few months. After a few months, Nathan’s promised living expenses never came again. Nathan never explained and I didn’t dare ask his parents. Left with no choice, I supported myself through part-time jobs, scraping together enough for tuition while living in a decrepit apartment.

The area was far from safe. A few big black-faced men always wandered around the house. Men with harsh faces loitered outside my building, their eyes leering at me when I returned from late classes.

I was so scared that I could only lock all the doors and windows when I went to bed and I would even reinforce several locks on one door and block the closet. Even so, there would still be a few drunken loud banging on the door.

Terrified, I once called Nathan for help. His voice was calm, dismissive.

“Honey, I’m swamped at work. Just hang in there; morning will come soon.”

I hung up, trembling under my blanket, wide awake until dawn. In desperation, I checked his social media.

A fresh post greeted me.

Nathan: [Little girls are so troublesome. Poor Olivia was scared of thunder; I comforted her all night.]

The comments below stung like needles:

[Olivia’s adorable—she’s worth it! Treat her well!]

[Don’t bully our Olivia! Also, remember to block Hannah, haha!]

So they all knew. Everyone. And they all kept it from me.

For three years, I worked tirelessly, got up early and was busy with my studies, hoping to graduate quickly and return to him. But during those years, Nathan transformed my friends into Olivia’s inner circle. I became an outsider, unwelcome in my own life.

At dinner that evening, I felt my body trembling with suppressed emotions. Nathan’s mother mistook my exhaustion for fatigue and told him, “Take Hannah home. She needs rest.”

Following him to the garage, I froze as memories of the car’s interior flashed back. I wrenched my hand from his.

“Get away from me! I don’t want to ride in your car!”

Nathan wrinkled his eyebrows, took a deep breath and patiently said, “Then how do you plan to get home?”

I didn’t answer, turning on my heel and walking. Step by painful step, I made my way toward the house. Night had fallen and the roads stretched dark and silent.

Nathan turned on his car lights and slowly followed behind me.

In the beginning, Nathan knew that I liked quiet, so he purposely bought the house in the suburbs. I walked for two hours and the soles of my feet rubbed raw.

When I finally arrived, he stormed in behind me, seething. “What’s your problem? You’re acting spoiled! Has going abroad made you unbearable?”

“Who spoiled me?” I said, voice trembling. For three years, I had clawed my way through life alone. Where was the luxury he accused me of?

I didn’t bother answering further; I just stepped inside to find everything unrecognizable. My study—once a shared dream for us—had been converted into a nail salon, complete with various manicure tools. The vanity was covered in makeup I didn’t own. Even the bathroom cup bore stickers labelling it “Olivia’s Exclusive.”

Our home, once lovingly decorated together, now screamed someone else’s name.

I was too drained to fight. Opening a guest room, I froze.

There she was. Olivia sat in a wedding gown—my mother’s wedding gown.

The gown was all I had left of her. Now, its aged lace had been carelessly cut away, the yellowed edges discarded on the floor. The jewels and embroidery were stripped, leaving the fabric tattered. Olivia’s careless attempt to squeeze into it had stretched seams to their breaking point.

She smirked as I stepped in, her eyes daring me to react.

With a loud rip, the gown tore completely.

Thunder rumbled outside as my composure shattered. I grabbed a vase and hurled it to the ground, screaming.

“Who told you to touch this wedding dress? Take it off! Take it off right now!”

Olivia shrank into Nathan’s arms, her voice trembling but her smirk defiant.

“Nathan, I’m scared…”

I grabbed my bag, striking at her in desperation. Tears blurred my vision as I shouted, “Take it off! That’s—”

Nathan’s hand struck me hard across the face. The slap rang louder than the thunder.

“Enough! What are you even doing? This is my house! If you want to throw a tantrum, do it elsewhere!”

I collapsed to the floor, my strength drained.

“It’s just a broken wedding dress,” he said coldly. “Why are you acting crazy? Have you lost your mind?”

Just a dress? That gown wasn’t ‘just a dress’. It was the only thing my mother left me—the only piece of her I still had.

But Nathan didn’t remember that. He didn’t care to.

Once, he had said, ‘Hannah, this is our home. You can decorate it however you like.’

Now, he said, ‘This is my house. If you don’t like it, leave.’

It wasn’t a broken wedding dress. This wedding dress is my mom’s relics left me. But he doesn’t remember it anymore.