My childhood sweetheart tanked his startup and racked up millions in debt.

He begged for my help, so I dropped out of college and sold liquor to keep him afloat.

Ten years later, he proposed to me.

I thought we'd made it through the worst until I saw his chatting records with his buddies.

[Lorelei is pushing 30. Too old and too used up for you.]

[Who knows if she earned that debt money by slinging drinks or something else?]

[Besides, what about your kid with your secretary?]

...

I read those messages while my childhood sweetheart, Aidan Black, passed out drunk on the bed.

I had just wiped him down and changed his clothes to make him comfortable. I had even considerately placed a glass of honey water on the nightstand.

For ten years, I had handled every detail of his life, never doubting our bond. We were each other's closest family until I scrolled up and saw the full conversation.

His friend, Callum Bailey, started, [Aidan, are you really marrying Lorelei?]

He sent a screenshot of my engagement post, and the group chat exploded.

Aidan: [I've proposed. No backing out now]

His friends weren't impressed, voicing their disapproval one after another.

[Bro, with your status, you could snag a younger and cleaner girl.]

[Lorelei is almost 30. Even if she's pretty, aren't you bored?]

[Selling drinks got her what, a few bucks per bottle? But she raked in three million dollars in three years. We've been to those places. We know what pays like that.]

[Aidan is not touching her. Probably scared of catching something.]

Aidan watched the chat without defending me. Finally, he commented, [No choice. She's an orphan, and I pity her. If I don't take her, no one will.]

I shivered, staring at the man on the bed.

"Lorelei, my head is killing me," he mumbled, drunk and whiny.

I used to love his vulnerable side. Now it only made me sick.

His phone chimed, and the screen lit up with a message from his secretary.

Isabella Newman: [I took the pill last night, so don't worry.]

I grabbed a thin coat and stumbled out of the house. The apartment lights were glowing across the street, but tears streamed down my face.

Aidan and I grew up in the same orphanage. I didn't like him at first because he was too timid, always asking what I wanted to eat.

Then when I was ten, a fire trapped me in the warehouse. He rushed in to save me but scarred his right hand. That scar was still there.

He had a shot at being adopted by rich folks who loved his piano talent, but the fire ruined it. He stayed in the orphanage until we left at 15.

I followed him, wanting to be his little sister forever.

He said, "We can't stick together forever if you're just my sister, while husbands and wives can. Marry me when we grow up. I'll give you a home."

I held onto that promise.

In college, we worked part-time jobs and soaked up campus life.

After graduation, he started a business. When it crashed and debts piled up, I couldn't watch him suffer and drown.

So, I dropped out of college, quit my prestigious internship, and took on a well-paid job selling liquor to pay off his debts. He wasn't happy, but he swore he'd never fail me.

When his business took off, he pointed to a fancy complex and said, "One day, I'll get you a place here. Then we'll get married."

For ten years, I treated him like my only family, giving him everything.

Last night, he proposed, and I was ready to offer myself to him. Then he claimed he had a work emergency. While in fact, he was sleeping with Isabella.

All those years, he didn't touch me, saying it was to protect me. I believed him.

The next morning, Aidan woke up expecting his usual hangover soup.

When he didn't see it, he sulked, "You're up this early and didn't make anything?"

He treated me like a maid, but a maid got paid $3,000 a month. I'd served him for a decade and got nothing.

In the cloakroom, he yelled for me to dress him. Without me, he didn't know which shirt to wear or which tie to match.

He enjoyed my care and service like a giant baby.

After he left for work, the wedding planner sent me a slideshow.

It was my dream wedding with a hall full of roses. I glided down a spiral staircase in a white gown, Aidan took my hand as everyone cheered.

Some said roses were cheesy, but to me, they meant love. The first rose he gave me was on the day he asked me out.

I texted back, [Looks great, but I haven't set a date yet. Hold off.]

The wedding planner agreed.

I slipped off the engagement ring and stared at our only group photo at the orphanage. I studied the frail boy who once shielded me.

'Why has it come to this?' I sobbed, wondering when our relationship went wrong.

My phone chimed. A text sent me rushing to the hospital.

Sophie Green had started at the bar with me. I had resigned after paying off the debts, but she had stayed.

Now she was lying in the ER, battered.

I grabbed her hand. "What happened?"

She forced a smile, but before she could reply, a man burst in, yanked her up, and slapped her.

I quickly shielded her.

Chaos erupted. Machines crashed. Nurses and doctors rushed over.

The man spewed venom. "You slut, selling yourself to bankroll me! It's filthy! And you have the nerve to call the cops on me?"

His words dropped a bomb, turning the crowd's pity for Sophie into disgust. They even eyed me the same way.

Holding Sophie, I looked up to see Aidan in the crowd. He was cozying up to a young woman and glaring at me with contempt.

Security hauled Sophie's boyfriend away, and the ER calmed.

Aidan helped Isabella lie down, but she clung to his hand, wincing. He leaned in, soothing her like a child. "Don't worry. I'm here with you."

He pulled the curtain, blocking my view.

I couldn't help but move over. Through the curtain, I heard them.

"Is that your wife?" Isabella whispered.

She'd seen me before, knowing I was Aidan's girlfriend. My beauty made people unforgettable but made her jealous.

"Nah," Aidan replied.

We weren't married, so technically, Aidan wasn't lying.

His words cut deep, and I moved to lift the curtain. But my hand paused because ripping that veil would break me.

After Sophie was settled, I left the hospital.

At home, a delivery arrived with a bouquet of my favorite roses, but the name on the card wasn't mine.

It read, [Happy birthday, Miss Newman!]

To my surprise, it was also Isabella's birthday.

Back in college, Aidan had spent a week's wages on my birthday, buying a cake and roses. When he asked me to be his girlfriend, I burst into tears and hugged him.

Now things had changed.

I waited till late hours, but Aidan hadn't called or texted me. The dinner I'd cooked and the cake I'd ordered sat untouched.

Back in our broke days, he never missed my birthday. Once, he drank himself sick at a business event just to rush home to me.

I hugged him, feeling bad. He said that he could never repay me. Hardships never swayed his love for me.

My phone chimed with a text from Callum. [Aidan booked a private room. Why aren't you here yet?]

I was confused because, from the looks of it, Aidan was going to celebrate Isabella's birthday.

Still, I felt a spark of hope, slipping into a rare dress, doing my markup, and tying my hair up to look younger. Then I took a cab to the spot.

To my surprise, it was the bar where I'd sold liquor to the rich. Memories of that pain flooded back, but I pushed through to the private room on the second floor.

At the door, I heard cheers.

Isabella, in a white dress, was in Aidan's arms.

"I can't do this," she whined, her cheeks rosy.

"Relax. It's just a bit of fun," Aidan encouraged, leaning over to kiss her.

The passion in his eyes was unmistakable. The crowd cheered even more loudly.

Someone shouted, "Way to go, Aidan!"

The two held hands as they sliced into the three-tier fondant cake, which was decorated with hearts and letters of love.

Callum popped open a bottle of champagne and sprayed it into the air. Aidan shielded Isabella from the spray, his hand resting on her waist. It was a picture of love.

As things settled, Isabella sat center stage. Aidan's friends showered her with gifts.

In contrast, I'd never been accepted by his circle. He never brought me to events, claiming that I was too pretty and that he didn't want his friends to hit on me.

Now I knew he was just ashamed of me. Turning around, he paraded Isabella proudly, some even calling her Mrs. Black. Their attitudes reflected how he saw me.

Aidan pulled out a necklace, the latest from Sparkle Elegance, worth at least $300,000.

I always loved their designs, but even their $3,000 pieces were too extravagant for me, as Aiden had said. For Isabella, he didn't blink at the price.

Isabella spotted me and smiled innocently. Then she teared up. "I can't accept this. It's too much. You should give it to your wife."

Aidan paused from putting the necklace on her, but Callum chimed in, "It's fine. Aidan and his girlfriend are basically done."

"Huh, why?" Isabella asked, feigning ignorance.