"You're insane!" Cole's voice cracked with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Even if that's true, Avery deserves to know! You can't just propose to Clara behind her back and blast it all over social media!"

But Griffin's tone was that of a tragic hero who believed himself misunderstood.

"Cole, you just don't get it! Clara needs to feel secure. If I proposed to her in secret, how could she ever trust me?"

So… all this time, he had only considered Clara's feelings. To give her a sense of security, he could shatter my heart and eight years of our life without a second thought.

A sharp, physical pain shot through my chest. My knees buckled, and I had to brace myself against the doorframe, gasping for air.

"What about Avery?" Cole roared. "We were all classmates. I watched you two from the very beginning. You're both my friends!"

Griffin hesitated.

"Regardless, I have to stabilize Clara's condition first. Once she's no longer suicidal, I'll slowly bring up divorce. It'll only be a year or two. Avery and I have been together for so long, she'll wait for me."

Then, incredibly, he let out a soft laugh. "She loves me so much, she can't leave me. Of course she'll understand."

In that instant, I no longer had the strength to push open that door.

I stumbled downstairs, my heart numb, and wandered away from the apartment building in a daze.

How could he just assume I would understand?

I wandered aimlessly through the pouring rain as memories of our eight years together played on a loop in my head.

His nervous, sincere confession in the library at the University of Washington.

The shy, sweet look on his face the first night we spent in our new apartment after graduation.

The time he held me tight, his eyes welling with tears as he swore he would never let me go when I prepared a birthday dinner just for him.

And yet, the person I had loved and trusted completely shattered that trust when I was at my most vulnerable.

The rain fell harder, and the pedestrians on the street quickened their pace, rushing to escape the storm.

But my feet felt as heavy as lead. I trudged onward, aimless, as the rain soaked through my coat.

A harsh screech of brakes cut through the rainy night as a car slammed to a halt beside me.

Griffin jumped out and, in one swift motion, pulled me into the car.

He handed me a blanket, his expression taut.

"Avery, I called you so many times, why didn't you answer? It's pouring, why didn't you find a place to take shelter?"

Hearing him say my name in that same gentle tone sent a wave of nausea through me.

He was someone else's fiancé now.

"Don't use that tone with me. Go find Clara. She's your fiancée, isn't she?"

I threw off the blanket, shoved open the car door, and stepped back into the rain.

His car remained motionless, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth mechanically.

In eight years, I had never been so cold to him.

I plunged into the downpour, a burning pain in my chest, not knowing where to go.

I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Griffin had come after me.

He was much taller and stronger than me. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

"Avery, please… don't be like this. We can talk this out. Just give me another chance. The rain's too heavy, let's go home first…"

He used the same tone, the same sweet words I had heard a thousand times.

Staring at his rain-streaked face, a suffocating weight crushed my chest. My panic disorder roared to life.

The world went dark.

I collapsed.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital.

My whole body ached, and I was running a high fever.

Griffin sat by my bedside, clutching my hand tightly, his face etched with worry.

"You're finally awake… You scared me to death."

While unconscious, I'd dreamed of us holding hands at City Hall, of moving into the lakeside cabin we designed together.

But it was only a dream.

"I'm sorry," he began, his voice thick with guilt. "I've told you about Clara before. We grew up together in a small town in Oregon, but we broke up after high school. We just… wanted different things."

"You have to believe me—in these eight years with you, you've been the one I love. But when she suddenly reappeared, her wrists covered in scars… She told me that if I couldn't give her a home, she would end her life…"

His eyes, which had always been so captivating, were filled with tears again.

"I couldn't just watch her die. But believe me, as soon as her condition stabilizes and she's no longer trying to hurt herself, I'll divorce her immediately. It won't be long. You have to believe me."

"And what if her illness never gets better?"

I stared at him with cold, steady eyes.

"I…" He was at a loss for words. Just then, his phone rang.

His expression shifted instantly, but after a glance at me, he answered the call.

"Sweetheart, I'm a little busy right now. I'll be home soon, okay? Remember to take your medicine. I'll bring you a gift when I get back. Of course I love you. Why else would I be doing this?"

Though he lowered his voice, his sweet nothings, meant for another woman, echoed in the quiet hospital room.

My boyfriend. Calling another woman his sweetheart. Making promises to her right in front of my face.

Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them.

The moment he hung up, he reached out to wipe them away.

"Get out! You're disgusting!" I slapped his hand away with all my strength.

For a few seconds, he just stared at me with a frown, as if he couldn't comprehend my anger.

"Can't you even try to understand my situation? I promise, I'll marry you as soon as she's better. It's only a year or two. Can't you wait that long?"

His voice softened again, coaxing. "Come on, let's not fight. I just wanted to ask you something. Clara's wedding is so rushed… Can we borrow your grandmother's veil? It would look just as beautiful on her. I promise I won't damage it."

I stared at him, so outraged I almost laughed. He had the audacity to ask for my grandmother's heirloom veil—for another woman to wear.

My out-of-control shrieks brought the doctor and nurses running. Seeing me gasping for breath, they quickly ushered him out.

That night, alone in the quiet hospital room, I unlocked my phone again. The engagement post was still there, the photo of him and Clara announcing their love to the world.

This time, there were no tears. My heart was completely numb.

If he had never truly cared about my love or my feelings, why should I waste my grief on him?

He was juggling two women, feigning affection, playing both sides.

In a strange way, I was grateful. At least I saw his true colors before we made it to the altar. It wasn't too late.

Soon, the day of their wedding arrived.

In the days leading up to it, he had the audacity to ask me for the veil again and again.

I told him bluntly, "No. If she wants it, she can buy it for ten thousand dollars."

"What? That's extortion!" he exploded.

On the other end of the line, I could hear Clara's delicate voice: "But I want that one. The ones at the bridal shop are so plain."

In the end, Griffin hesitated, then gave in.

"Fine, ten thousand it is. And… we both hope you'll come to our wedding."