Lory’s POV

Bettina was the first to rush over and help Frayne up. I immediately turned my eyes to him, silently pleading for help, but his gaze remained fixed only on her.

The two of them clung to each other, kissed, and left the scene hand in hand.

Before walking away, Bettina even threw me a mocking smile.

In an instant, the light of hope in my eyes dimmed. It felt as if the hot blood surging through my veins had frozen on the spot.

During those endless days on the hospital bed, whenever I closed my eyes, the image of Frayne turning his back on me replayed over and over again.

In that haze of memories, I finally understood.

I wasn’t just saying goodbye to Frayne. I was saying goodbye to the girl I used to be.

It was time to end this love.

“Dad, Mom… I’m sorry for making you worry,” I told my parents.

I paused before adding softly, “Can we… move away?”

Although I eventually recovered enough to walk, the injury to my leg was too severe. I would never again be able to engage in strenuous activity.

No matter how many times Frayne and his parents came knocking on our door with apologies, I refused to see them.

In the end, fearing for my health, my parents decided to uproot everything. We moved north and never looked back.

By the age of twenty-six, the magazine I had founded was already making waves on major forums across the country. That success led to an invitation to attend an elite networking conference.

What I didn’t expect was to run into Frayne there.

Once, he was the person I thought of day and night, the love engraved into my bones.

And yet, he was also the executioner who had pushed me into the abyss.

Perhaps love could never be judged in terms of right or wrong. Maybe, on that day, he had simply been too consumed with protecting Bettina and had forgotten me.

But it was true—I no longer wanted to look at him again.

But perhaps it was fate. Some things seemed to be arranged by unseen hands.

One afternoon at the supermarket, we happened to reach for the same brand of yogurt.

Frayne froze where he stood, his eyes trembling.

A storm of emotions churned inside me, pressing down on my chest until I could hardly breathe.

At my side, Tom Dillon quickly steadied me. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “Just a little dizzy.”

I tried to step past him, but before I could take another step, a hand grabbed my arm. I stumbled forward, crashing right into Frayne’s embrace.

“Lory, are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

He leaned closer, desperation etched across his features. “Please… give me a chance to make things right. Don’t leave me again, okay?”

I tried again and again to break free. But each time, he blocked my way.

Just then, Tom reappeared, shoving him back with force. Broad-shouldered and solidly built, his frame towered over Frayne’s leaner figure.

“Hey, man,” Tom said sharply. “Do you really have to cling to her like this?”

His voice hardened. “Try laying a hand on her again, and don’t blame me if I get rough.”

He rolled his neck, and his knuckles cracked with a sharp series of pops.

Frayne narrowed his eyes. Their gazes clashed like sparks in the air.

“Tom,” I said quickly, my voice unsteady. “Take me home.”

He grinned. “Your wish is my command.”

Looping his arm through mine, Tom marched us straight out of the supermarket.

After returning to my hometown, I hadn’t had much direct contact with Frayne, though mutual friends occasionally mentioned him.

I later learned that not long after my family moved away, things between him and Bettina fell apart.

He had thrown a stack of cash at her in public, ordering her to get lost. From then on, he devoted himself entirely to his studies.

By the time he took the SATs, his scores in nearly every subject were close to perfect, attracting offers from all the top universities.

After graduation, he went alone to New York to start a business. In just a few short years, he had transformed himself into a multimillionaire.

Wherever he stood, his presence was undeniable—so commanding it set him apart from everyone around him.

Tom, however, was different.

Though his family was well-off, he never flaunted it. Whether making friends or chatting casually, he never carried himself like the stereotypical rich second generation.

Lory’s POV

Being with him every day felt like a new kind of joy.

Whenever he teased me, even my darkest moods seemed to lighten.

But then, my mind jolted back to that night.

My leg had been crushed beyond recognition, twisted and bloodied.

Gasoline mixed with my blood, its sharp stench spreading beneath me.

I remembered praying, ‘I don’t want to die. God, someone, please—save me…’

I woke from the nightmare with a gasp, as though an invisible hand was clamped around my throat, suffocating me.

Breathless and unsettled, I decided I needed a break—a day to step outside, walk a little, and clear my head.

I wandered without realizing where my feet were taking me. Only when I lifted my gaze did I see it—the same mountain road where the accident had happened years ago.

The dark tunnel loomed ahead. I froze, unable to step further.

Suddenly, the sound of brisk footsteps echoed from inside.

To my shock, Frayne emerged from the shadows.

Seven years had passed, and time had reshaped him.

His once unruly hair was now cropped short, a soft flaxen brown. His frame looked leaner. But through the thin cotton of his shirt, I could still make out the faint lines of a well-trained body.

As soon as he saw me retreat, his hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

I twisted, tried to break free twice, but his grip held firm.

Anger flared, and I turned on him, meeting his eyes as I bit out each word.

“Let me go!”

His jawline tightened. A flicker of struggle passed through his brown eyes.

Only after what felt like an eternity did he finally release me, his fingers sliding away.

“Lory,” he said softly, voice tight, “I didn’t mean anything else. I just… I only wanted to know if you’re doing well.”

“I’m doing perfectly fine,” I shot back coldly. “Satisfied? Can I leave now?”

His shoulders stiffened. He lowered his gaze, his voice quiet.

“I know you’re still angry. That day… I shouldn’t have left you behind,” he muttered. “Bettina was just a mistake of my youth. The truth is, the only one I’ve ever really loved is you.”

I drew in a sharp breath. Fury burned through me, and I gave a bitter laugh.

“Do you even know?” My voice trembled with rage. “When the accident happened, I was calling your name. I was begging you to save me.”

I scoffed. “If it hadn’t been for a passerby, I’d have died there alone.”

“And now,” I continued, “you dare to ask me to forgive you? Frayne, how shameless can you be?”

My words hit him like a blow. His tall frame swayed, the color draining from his handsome face.

I coldly pulled up the corners of my lips and turned to leave.

He had made his choice back then.

Now, he could live with the consequences.

At the corner, while I was waiting for a cab, a long-haired woman lifted her cap nearby. A mask hid most of her face, but her voice was exaggeratedly sweet.

“Long time no see, my old friend.”

I frowned and stayed silent. She pulled off her mask.

“You really are forgetful, aren’t you? It’s me—Bettina.”

Later, at a business partner’s birthday party, I drank more than usual.

I slipped out to the garden path and sat on a bench, letting the night air cool my flushed cheeks. From near the fountain, laughter and voices drifted over.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I followed the sound with my eyes.

And there she was. Bettina was dressed in a black evening gown, clinging to Frayne’s neck with mock sweetness.

“Darling,” she cooed, “after all these years, have you ever thought of me?”

My eyes narrowed. Even from a distance, her downfall was plain.

The gown was creased and ill-fitted. Her exposed back was marred with scratches and blotches.

Her once plump, collagen-rich face had sunken into sharpness.

The thick hair she used to flaunt was now thinning, streaked with white.

By all rights, no one should have been able to enter without an invitation.

For her to sneak into the manor at such risk, she must have been after something.

I remembered the past vividly.

When I left town all those years ago, my close friends had stood up for me.

They publicly exposed Bettina as the “other woman,” beating her on the street until she was black and blue.

The video was uploaded online, fueled with bought traffic and endless reposts. It became one of the most searched scandals of that year.

The school, afraid of its reputation being tarnished by her disgrace, expelled Bettina soon after.

Lory’s POV

Bettina had poor academic standing and a fiery temper. My close friends never let her out of their sight, which made it impossible for her to keep any job for long.

Eventually, her parents forced her to exchange her bride price and marry a man even older than her own father.

It was said that since she wasn’t a virgin, that old man would beat her half to death whenever he drank too much.

Her life, by all accounts, was worse than death.

That was when I finally understood her true ambition.

What she had always wanted was to marry into the Gallachers—to rewrite her fate and become their wealthy daughter-in-law.

Frayne pressed his lips together, his blue eyes calm and unreadable.

“It was me being childish back then,” he said quietly. “But the motorcycle was already leaking oil. If we didn’t race, it would’ve been dangerous.”

Bettina’s eyes grew hazy, her lips brushing along his cheek before pressing against his mouth. Her breath quickened, unsteady.

“Frayne, you once promised you would marry me,” she whispered.

Suddenly, Frayne raised his hand. A sharp crack split the night as his palm struck her face.

In an instant, a red hand-shaped mark bloomed across her cheek.

“You have no right to bargain with me!”

His eyes finally flickered with a cold, mocking scorn.

“Get out.”

When I returned to the party hall, I caught sight of Bettina from a distance. She came running toward me, her face glowing with the joy of reunion.

“Hi, Lory! We met again! How have you been lately?”

I stared at her blankly, though inside, anger surged like a rising tide.

If Frayne had been blinded by infatuation back then, maybe that could be forgiven.

But Bettina? She saw me injured, and still, she walked away without even trying to help.

To this day, I never knew why she left me then. Was lending me a hand really so difficult?

If she had pulled me out sooner, my leg wouldn’t have been left with this permanent damage.

Now, she stood before me, acting like an old friend, without even a hint of apology for what she did back then. That only deepened my resentment toward her.

“What’s wrong?” she teased, covering her mouth as she laughed. “Made it big now, and you look down on an old classmate like me?”

Her eyes narrowed into crescents as she chuckled.

“Thinking back, I realize you really were pitiful. All it took was the slightest move from me, and Frayne was hooked. Meanwhile, you kept shamelessly begging him, and he wouldn’t even spare you a glance…”

She laughed freely, trying to reclaim the pride she had lost to me through Frayne.

I slipped off my high heels, gripped an empty wine bottle. And the next second, I smashed it hard against her head.

Her eyes widened in shock, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Then, finding her voice, she screamed for help at the top of her lungs, determined to make me pay.

But what she didn’t understand was that in high society, everything was tied to interests. As long as it wasn’t murder or arson, most guests who witnessed a scandal would pretend they hadn’t seen a thing.

Pressing the jagged mouth of the broken bottle against the artery in her neck, I leaned down and whispered, my voice like ice, “Don’t let me see you again. This is the first and the last time. Do you understand?”

She looked around, still refusing to believe it. She kept calling for help from the crowd. But everyone just stood there, watching the drama unfold like it was entertainment.

When her gaze met my cold, unfeeling eyes, panic finally overtook her. She screamed, trembling.

Across the room, Frayne took a slow sip of red wine. At his signal, two security guards stepped forward and dragged Bettina away like a dead dog.

That single blow to her head had released years of pent-up rage in me.

But in its wake came another storm—an unspeakable restlessness surging through my chest, crushing bone and flesh as it spread, inch by inch, through my entire body.

I pressed a hand to my forehead and slipped out of the crowd, finding my way to a quiet path in the garden.

The night breeze brushed against my skin. Little by little, the wild turbulence inside me began to calm.