Kael’s friends erupted into laughter, their voices carrying a cruel edge that made my blood run cold.

“Right, Selara’s perfect if you want a mate for life,” one of them teased.

“So… when’s the wedding?” another chimed in, grinning like it was already written in stone.

I froze outside the private room, my heart hammering in my chest. Kael had never really seen me as a partner, as someone worthy of care. To him, I had always been convenient—a presence to summon when needed and discard when it suited him.

I refused to step inside. I refused to give him even an inch of my attention anymore.

But as soon as I returned home, my phone buzzed with a notification. Selara had posted photos from the party. One slide showed the two of them laughing together, another captured Kael leaning heavily on her shoulder, drunk and completely at ease with her.

Fury surged through me, sharp and scorching. I packed not just my essentials, but stripped the apartment of every trace of myself. In two weeks, I would be gone, and nothing of me would remain.

Over the next few days, I ignored him entirely. By daylight, I immersed myself in photography, chasing shutter clicks and angles. At night, I lost myself in editing, in the rhythm of my own life—one that didn’t include him. Whether he returned home or remained out with Selara, whether he noticed my absence or not, it didn’t matter to me anymore.

A week before my departure, my room had become nearly empty. If Kael had even the slightest shred of sensitivity, he would have noticed the absence of my presence in the apartment. But I doubted he had.

That evening, I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to deliver a client’s photo files and meet a friend afterward. Just as my fingers curled around the doorknob, Kael entered, a plastic bag of beer dangling from one hand.

For the first time since that night at the bar, we were face-to-face.

His amber eyes darkened as they settled on me, and a bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Well, well. We finally collide. Even though we share this space, we haven’t crossed paths all week. Not once.”

I didn’t answer. I refused to play his game.

“Haven’t we already forgiven each other a week ago?” he continued, voice sharp and dripping with sarcasm. “You even made me breakfast, like you always do. But after that… nothing. You act like the whole week vanished. How long, Railey? How long are you going to avoid me?”

“I’m busy,” I said flatly, adjusting my bag and preparing to leave.

Before I could step out, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back. My breath caught as he pressed me against the wall, his presence heavy and suffocating.

“Railey,” he murmured, the alcohol heavy on his breath. “If you keep behaving like this… I will end up marrying Selara for real.”

I turned my face to the side, avoiding his heated gaze. My wrist throbbed under his grip, but I refused to show weakness. “Then do it. I don’t care.”

Kael’s eyes darkened further, frustration coiling through his tense posture. “Don’t care?” he growled. “Since when did you stop caring about me? Avoiding me doesn’t prove that you don’t—you’re jealous, and it’s obvious.”

He leaned closer, the menace in his voice sharp as a claw. “Oh, right. I haven’t shown enough of my love for you, have I? Fine. I’ll fix that… so you’ll never dare avoid me again over something so trivial.”

The bag slipped from his hand, spilling beer cans across the floor with a metallic clatter. Before I could react, he seized both my wrists, pressing them above my head against the wall.

“Kael, let go! You’re drunk!” I warned, voice steady, but he ignored me.

His left hand reached for my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His fingers dug into my skin as he leaned in, claiming my lips in a possessive, bruising kiss.

I struggled, kicking and twisting in his grasp, but my strength was nothing compared to his. For the first time, Kael’s roughness broke through, leaving me shocked and trembling.

“Kael… it hurts,” I sobbed, my voice shaking. “Was your promise not to hurt me… also a lie?”

Something inside him shattered. His body tensed, his drunken haze giving way to the stark clarity of realization. His grip slackened, his breathing erratic, eyes wide as if finally seeing what he had done.

“Railey… I…” he began, voice cracking.

I didn’t let him finish. The moment I was free, I shoved him back and fled the apartment, my heart pounding in my ears.

I caught my reflection in the elevator mirror and froze. My hair was disheveled, my face pale and raw.

“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath, scowling at the reflection of the man I had loved for too long.

Thankfully, meeting my friend afterward eased some of the tension. Her laughter, the warmth of normal conversation, grounded me back in reality. I was genuinely happy for her honeymoon, secure in the knowledge that her joy had nothing to do with Kael.

But my relief was fleeting. One of my clients for the day was… Selara. I couldn’t hold her final photo rolls any longer, so I made my way to meet her.

She greeted me with her trademark easy smile, flipping through the images. “These are really good. You’ve got talent.” She tapped her phone. “Oh, I’ve already transferred the payment, including the bonus.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, ready to leave.

But then she added, casually, yet deliberately: “By the way… since you didn’t pick him up that night, I brought him home. Not yours—mine. We… enjoyed that night together, Railey.”

I froze, eyes narrowing.

Selara tilted her head, watching me with mock sympathy. “That night, when he stayed at my place, he… mistook me for you,” she continued softly, almost tauntingly. “He was… out of control. He seemed desperate for you.”

My body went rigid.

Selara’s sweet smile didn’t falter. “So… I’m sorry, Railey. But an accident happened between us. I hope Kael explained it?”

My heart slowed in my chest, hollow and heavy.

She leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper. “I know our… arrangement is only for our families’ sake. I know you’re the one he truly loves. But Railey… I saw how much he enjoyed that night. The next morning, he laughed about it, saying it was the most incredible night he’d ever had.”

I swallowed hard, every breath bitter and uneven.

Selara’s eyes gleamed, cruelly triumphant. “So… why don’t you just give up? Your relationship is already crumbling.”

She smiled again, soft and poisonous. “Oh, and one more thing… I want to hire you as my wedding photographer. Awkward, isn’t it, considering you’ll still be dating him by then?”

Finally, Selara dropped the mask entirely, revealing her true intentions.

“You’ve always loved him, haven’t you?” I asked, my voice calm but steady, carrying the weight of years of unspoken frustration.

Selara met my gaze without hesitation, her confidence radiating like a challenge.

“Well,” she said lightly, tilting her head as if she were admitting to some innocent truth, “I’ve always thought of him as a friend, someone I grew up with. But after these last few days… I think I might feel something more than just friendship.”

I inwardly scoffed.

“Love isn’t wrong, right?” she continued, her tone deceptively casual, as though life had forced her into this position. “Even if you’re still dating him, it’s not a guarantee that you’ll end up married. So… why not let me have him now?”

I couldn’t help but snort.

Finally, she was being honest. No games, no pretenses—just pure selfishness wrapped in polite words.

“Funny,” I said, a smirk tugging at my lips, “I was planning to. Go ahead, take him.”

After all, people like Kael were meant to be with people like her. Nothing more, nothing less.

Her confident smile wavered for a fraction of a second, but I gave her no chance to recover.

“However,” I added smoothly, tilting my head with deliberate calm, “I get to choose my own clients, too. So you’ll need to find another photographer for your big day.”

I didn’t wait for her response. I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, speechless.

---

After everything Kael had done that morning, I hesitated to return to the apartment. I had even blocked his number. Selara’s words had confirmed what I already knew—I had no reason to stay there anymore. Seven days remained before I left, and most of my things were already packed or sent ahead, leaving only essentials behind.

That night, I decided to go back to my mother’s house.

When she opened the door and saw me standing there with my bags, her surprise quickly melted into a warm, welcoming smile.

“I missed you,” I whispered, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Can I stay with you before I leave for Melbourne?”

Her arms tightened around me immediately. “Of course, my dear. You’ll always be my little girl.”

Her warmth, her gentle voice, reminded me of something I had forgotten I needed. Since college, I had insisted I was independent, capable of standing on my own. Yet, here I was, seeking comfort in my mother’s arms.

The next morning, over breakfast, I finally told her everything.

“I’m going to start over, Mom. A new identity. I’ll even take your last name. Is that okay?”

She listened quietly, her eyes soft and understanding. Without a second thought, she smiled and nodded.

“If this is what you’ve thought through, I won’t question it,” she said gently.

“Thanks, Mom,” I murmured, grateful for her unwavering support.

---

Three days later, my mother had to leave for a sudden business trip.

“Since you’re home, can you stay and watch the house while I’m gone?” she asked, sipping her coffee. “The maid will be here, but I need someone to help feed the puppies.”

Her two tiny, energetic wolves—her pups—barked and yipped playfully from their corner, spoiled beyond belief.

I laughed softly. “Of course, Mom.”

She nodded, satisfied, then added another task. “Also… I need your help relocating your father’s grave.”

I paused, taken aback.

“The cemetery is being renovated. I thought it would be better to move him to a larger plot, in the city center,” she explained.

I thought for a moment. Originally, I had planned to stay in Melbourne for only a year, but maybe I could settle there long-term.

“Should we move him to Melbourne then?” I asked cautiously.

My mother reached over, squeezing my hand gently. “No, dear. This is where he was born. He would want to stay here. If you ever miss him, you can always come back.”

I nodded, feeling a bittersweet weight in my chest.

After dropping her off at the airport, I drove straight to my father’s gravesite. I carefully gathered his urn, framed photos, and the small keepsakes left with him. With my mother’s car, I decided to swing by the apartment one last time to collect a few remaining items. I also wanted my father to see where I had lived during college, even if only in memory.

But as soon as I opened the apartment door, I ran into them. Kael and Selara.

Kael’s eyes widened the moment he saw me. He stepped forward, curiosity written across his face.

“Railey… where have you been staying these past few days? Your room is empty. What does that mean?”

I shrugged casually, my tone deliberately indifferent. “Oh, I heard from Selara that you two have already set a wedding date. Isn’t it about time for me to move out?”

Kael snapped toward Selara, confusion crossing his features.

Selara lowered her gaze immediately, feigning innocence. “Sorry, Kael. My butler was planning to hire her as our wedding photographer. Maybe that’s how Railey found out.” She turned back to me, putting on her sweetest apologetic smile. “But I already told Railey our marriage is only an act.”

I smirked. So this was how she lied to Kael—both of them perfect in their deception.

Kael exhaled sharply, turning back to me. “Railey, I’ve already explained. Everything is just an act. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I replied, tilting my head innocently. “That’s exactly why I made it easier for you to act. If your parents walked in and saw you still living with me, imagine the chaos that would cause.”

Kael ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Railey, my parents would never come here. I would never let them. What more do you need to believe me?”

His desperation was almost comical.

“Right now,” he continued, attempting to regain composure, “Selara and I are figuring out how to get out of this arranged marriage. Can you just calm down?”

Selara took the opportunity to step in, voice dripping with calculated sweetness.

“That’s right, Railey. We’ve even been thinking of going abroad with you,” she said, her eyes glistening with faux sincerity. “That way, you can marry Kael in secret, without his parents knowing.”

I blinked, unable to hide my incredulity.

“We?” I asked, my voice dark with humorless disbelief.

Kael answered quickly, as though it had all been planned. “Yes, the three of us. My parents will think I married Selara, but in reality… it’ll be you.”

I couldn’t help the dark chuckle that escaped my throat.

“The three of us go together?” I repeated, voice dripping with mockery. “How… convenient.”

Selara’s usual confidence crumbled, replaced by melodrama. She dropped to her knees before me, clutching my hand in feigned desperation.

“Railey… if it’s only the two of you, what about me?” she whimpered, her voice thick with calculated distress. “My parents would be furious. I’d have nowhere to go.”

As she spoke, she shook my arm deliberately, gripping it tightly.

I yanked my hand back instinctively. The urn I had been holding slipped from my grasp.

Time seemed to stretch and warp as the porcelain vase hit the floor, shattering violently into countless jagged fragments. The ashes inside scattered across the tile like drifting shadows, carried on invisible currents.

For a fleeting moment, everything froze. Even the noise of the city beyond the apartment felt muted.

Then Selara let out a high-pitched, theatrical scream as she flailed backward, landing directly on the sharp shards.

“Argh!” she shrieked, her voice laced with pain—and maybe a little satisfaction.

A few slivers of glass had pierced her wrist, a thin line of blood trailing down her skin, and I barely had time to flinch before a searing pain shot through my own foot. A shard had found its way to me as well.

But nothing hurt more than seeing the remains of my father’s urn scattered across the floor, his ashes now strewn like wind-blown dust.

Before I could move, Kael lunged toward Selara, his arms wrapping around her in frantic protection. “Selara! Stay with me! Are you okay?” His tone was sharp, panicked, desperate.

And then, in an instant, his gaze snapped toward me. Rage twisted his handsome features.

“Why would you bring something so dangerous into this house? Look at what you’ve done! Did you mean to hurt her, Railey?!”

I froze.

Did he just call my father’s urn “dangerous”?

He didn’t ask what had happened. He didn’t even glance at me to see the pain etched into my own skin, the glass embedded in my foot. He didn’t care that Selara had fallen on it deliberately. He only saw the opportunity to blame me.

Selara whimpered softly, curling closer to him. Her breath hitched and her eyes rolled back before she fainted entirely.

“Selara? Selara!” Kael’s voice cracked as he shook her gently, then lifted her into his arms without even a look at me. He stormed toward the door, the weight of urgency propelling him forward.

But before he disappeared from the apartment, he shot me one last, searing glare.

“If anything happens to her,” he hissed, “you’ll pay the consequences, Railey.”

I stood frozen, surrounded by shards and my father’s scattered ashes, the cold of the tile pressing against my knees, and yet Kael didn’t care. He didn’t see me, bleeding and shaken. He only cared about Selara, the girl who had engineered her fall for attention.

A hollow emptiness spread through me. I crouched slowly, my fingers trembling as I began to gather the broken pieces of the urn, handling each shard as though it could somehow absorb my sorrow.

Tears blurred my vision, hot and relentless, my throat tight with unspoken grief. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

I couldn’t decide which hurt more—the fact that my father’s urn lay shattered at my feet or that Kael had betrayed me once again. After everything I had endured, why did it still sting to watch him choose Selara over me? Why did the old, familiar ache of disappointment still gnaw at my chest?

As I collected the ashes and pieces, the bitter truth struck me like a jagged stone. I had been gone for days, hiding at my mother’s house, yet Kael had never once sought me out. He knew exactly where I was, but he didn’t come. He never cared to.

From the beginning, I had known—he never intended to formalize what we had. That was why he had insisted we hide our relationship from my mother. But I had been foolish enough to believe him. I had trusted that he would do the right thing on my graduation day, that he would finally claim me properly.

But the past twenty-four hours had made it clear: it had always been me doing the reaching, the calling, the mending of things that were already broken. And this time, I was done.

Hands trembling, I scooped up the urn fragments and ashes, inhaling shakily before straightening. I gathered my remaining belongings, loaded them into the car, and prepared for the final trip to move my father’s grave.

The next day, I went to the U.S. Embassy to collect my approved visa, passport, and new identification. Stepping out of the building, a lightness washed over me, a fraction of the burden I had carried for years lifting away. Yet why did my chest still ache?

Night fell, and with it came a gnawing emptiness. All the years I had wasted on Kael’s whims, the blind loyalty, the silent compromises—they came crashing down all at once.

For the first time in my life, I went to a club. I had spent years performing the role of the good girl, the perfect girlfriend, and in the end, none of it had mattered. Kael had abandoned me too many times. Tonight, the roles were reversed—I was the one leaving him behind.

At first, I was cautious. Every man who approached, I kept at arm’s length, instinctively wary. But as the hours passed, as the alcohol warmed my veins and dulled my edges, I let myself loosen, allowing the music to take over, to blur the sharp angles of the day.

Someone moved closer. A tall figure with dark, unreadable eyes and a smirk that seemed both mischievous and knowing. He didn’t touch me, only watched, gauging, waiting.

“Are you new here?” he asked finally, his voice low, casual.

I turned toward him, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re looking around too much,” he said, a chuckle tugging at his lips. “People who come here often don’t do that.”

“Maybe I like to observe,” I replied, tilting my head, keeping my tone neutral.

“Or maybe you’re trying to forget something,” he offered, his gaze sharp, almost penetrating.

A humorless laugh escaped me. “Aren’t we all?”

Understanding flickered in his eyes, subtle but undeniable. He extended a hand. “Then how about we forget together?”

I hesitated briefly, then, without thinking, took it. Even tipsy, I maintained a sense of control, knowing my boundaries. When the room began to spin faster than I could handle, I stepped back carefully.

The last thing I remember was him asking if I needed a ride, his voice calm, patient, offering.

The next morning, I awoke in a bed that wasn’t mine, the sunlight cutting across unfamiliar sheets.