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.

Nathan dragged me to the door without regard for my protests, his grip like iron. Without a second thought, he shoved me into the night.

“Get out and reflect on yourself! When you’ve figured it out, then come back!”

The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me alone in the pitch-black darkness. A deafening clap of thunder lit up the garden, its light casting fleeting shadows that only deepened my dread.

A burst of unpleasant memories flooded my mind and I slapped the door as hard as if grasping for a life preserver.

Desperately, I shouted, “Please, Nathan, let me in! I’m scared!”

My voice cracked and I begged, louder and more frantic.

“Nathan, I’m begging you—just this once! Let me in!”

Fear overwhelmed me, my chest tightening, my head spinning with nausea. I clung to the hope that if he opened the door. Even thinking that if he showed even an ounce of kindness tonight, I could forgive everything. But he didn’t.

I heard Nathan’s cold laugh from inside, followed by his teasing voice.

“What are you pretending for? Don’t you just want to compete for favour with Olivia? You’re just throwing a tantrum to get attention. You’re not even scared of thunder. Stop pretending!”

Nathan wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t feared thunder—before. But that night, trapped in a foreign land, isolated and powerless, the sound of thunder had intertwined with the pounding fists of drunk men on my door. Since then, every rumble of the sky had been a trigger, a reminder of my helplessness.

But he didn’t care to know that. Nathan never opened the door.

***

As I stumbled through the spinning world, I suddenly remembered the Nathan of my youth.

Once, bullies locked me in the school’s equipment room. Nathan had ignored the teachers’ warnings, stubbornly using bricks to break the lock. When the door finally swung open, light poured in and there he stood, radiant like a god descending to rescue me.

But that god was long gone.

***

I woke up on a man’s back. Under the dim glow of streetlights, I groggily murmured, “Nathan… is that you?”

Victor is about to be angry and laugh, muffling his voice against his back teeth. “Hannah, open your eyes. It’s me—Victor!”

A single thought struck me through my disorientation, ‘The god has been replaced’.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, there was a loud braking sound behind me. Nathan’s car came to a halt and the next moment, I heard the sound of one person’s hurried footsteps.

Before I could react, Nathan had already punched Victor in the face.

Victor staggered but steadied himself, carefully lowering me to lean against the streetlight. He turned back, his expression sharp as steel. Then, the two men started wrestling.

Nathan’s fists struck flesh. “Who gave you the right to touch my girlfriend? She’s mine!” Nathan roared, his voice filled with fury.

“Yours? Let’s see for how long,” he shot back before throwing himself into the fight.

The two men exchanged brutal blows, neither holding back. Nathan’s rage erupted with every punch. He talked about our past experiences.

“Do you know what we’ve been through? Ten years of knowing each other! Five years together! She has met my parents! She cooked for me at sunrise and stayed up all night to buy me medicine when I was sick. She’s been there for me through everything! What can you offer that compares?”

His words might have meant something once, but now they felt hollow, bitter. He glared at me, his voice laced with accusation.

“You’ve changed! Ever since you went abroad, I remember you’re not the sweet, gentle Hannah. You’ve become unbearable!”

Victor froze mid-punch, his gaze softening as he looked at me. His voice was quiet, yet his anger burned brightly.

“Gentle? If she stayed gentle, she wouldn’t have survived.”

Nathan paused, his movements faltering. His rambling voice sounded as if the pause button had been pressed, “What do you mean?”

Victor didn’t let up.

“She worked three jobs a day, Nathan. Three! She lived in dangerous alleys where she had to grow sharp edges just to make it through. If she hadn’t toughened up, she would’ve been eaten alive by those scum. Don’t pretend you don’t know! “

Nathan’s face fell, a flicker of understanding breaking through his anger. He grabbed Victor’s collar, his eyes bloodshot.

“Why? Why would she need to work? She’s never had to suffer like that before!”

Victor said nothing, his silence more damning than any words.

And then, realization dawned on Nathan. His hands shook as he slapped his own face hard.

“Damn it! I shouldn’t have trusted Olivia with this! She… she wouldn’t have…! How dare she…”

His voice broke, his regret palpable. He clutched his hair in anguish, but Victor wasn’t done.

“You call her your girlfriend,” Victor said, his voice steady but cutting. “So, where were you when she was being followed home by creeps?”

Victor continued, “Where were you when she was harassed, cornered and terrified? When she huddled alone in her room, blocking the door, covering her ears, hoping the drunk men banging on her door wouldn’t get in—where the hell were you?”

Not stopping there, “She cried herself to sleep, Nathan. She dreamed of you, begged for you in her sleep. And where were you? Huh?!”

Nathan’s hands dropped to his sides, his face pale as the weight of Victor’s words sank in.

“You say you’re her boyfriend,” Victor spat. “But for three years, I never saw you once. You would have known the hell she has been through if you could show up even once. You would have known what kind of life she has leading.”

The air hung heavy with silence. Nathan’s lips moved, but no words came. He couldn’t answer the only question that mattered.

“Where were you, Nathan Cross?”

Nathan froze, his face clouded with disbelief as Victor’s words echoed in the silence.

“She… she never told me…” Nathan stammered, but his expression shifted as if struck by lightning. He remembered. It was not because he had forgotten but because he had never cared enough to listen.

I had told him about every struggle I faced abroad. Each time, his response was the same:

“You need to be strong.”

In our relationship, I always gave. I poured everything into us while he effortlessly soaked it all in, my kindness his birthright. It was also obvious to me that his replies to me were becoming increasingly perfunctory and his tone increasingly impatient. At first, I was able to lie to myself and convince myself it was because of his work.

But when I returned and saw Olivia, the truth became impossible to ignore. This was nothing more than my wishful thinking. His indifference wasn’t due to busyness. It was because he never cared for me in the first place.

Victor hoisted me onto his back again, carrying me away from the scene. Behind us, Nathan sank to the ground, tears streaming silently down his face.

***

The following day, I woke up in a hotel room. Victor sat by the bed with breakfast, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That scumbag. Did you wait for him for three years? Pathetic.”

I shot back, desperate to salvage some dignity.

“I don’t like him anymore.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied dryly. “You spent the whole night calling his name in your sleep.”

“Oh.” I was stunned. What could I have dreamed about that made me say his name? My thoughts spiralled, too focused to notice the flicker of sadness in Victor’s eyes.

***

After breakfast, I received a call from Nathan. His voice was hoarse, laden with exhaustion.

“I’m downstairs at your hotel. Can we talk?”

I hesitated, but curiosity got the better of me. I went down, still in my pyjamas, determined to end things.

Nathan was waiting in his car, lost in thought. When he saw me, he scrambled to open the door for me. I noticed that everything related to Olivia inside had been removed.

He looked dishevelled, his face mixed with regret and hope, “Hannah, let me take you somewhere. Please.”

The harsh words I had rehearsed dissolved on my tongue. Against my better judgment, I nodded.

“Fine.”

I still can’t learn to say no to him. One last time, I thought—one last chance.

As the car pulled away, I glanced back at the hotel. I saw Victor standing through the window, watching me from upstairs. Something about his gaze unsettled me, a pang of guilt rippling through my chest.

The car drove to a bustling villa in the city’s most exclusive district. Music pounded through the walls, the rhythm jarring and chaotic. I immediately felt out of place. I have never liked too much noise.

Nathan opened the door. With hindsight, I realised that they were having a party. Laughter and chatter filled the air until we stepped in. Olivia and all his friends stopped and silence fell. All eyes turned to me—an uninvited outsider.

I instinctively stepped back, but Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. Olivia’s expression darkened the moment she saw me. She stomped over, her disdain palpable.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” she sneered. “Get out. You’re not welcome in my house.”