After my engagement to Simon Page, he secretly planned a trip abroad with Yara Watson, the woman he had loved for years.

The day before their departure, he was chatting with his friends and Yara in the lounge of a golf club.

"Simon, you just got engaged, and you're already taking Yara on a trip. Aren't you afraid Rosalyn will find out?"

Simon scoffed. "I hired a guy to pose as her suitor. He’ll keep her so occupied that she won’t have time to bother me.

"If something really happens between them, even better. I can use it as an excuse to officially end the engagement and be with Yara openly."

Standing outside the door, I trembled as his words sank in.

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the handsome man behind me, his expression filled with guilt. "Then let’s grant him his wish and get married."

But just as I was preparing for the wedding, Simon suddenly knelt before me in agony.

"Rosalyn, I was wrong. Please, don’t marry him!"

I looked at the message from the wedding company, hesitating over whether I should really change my groom.

Just then, Simon Page returned, dragging his suitcase behind him.

As soon as he opened the door, he stood in the living room and shouted impatiently, "I'm starving! Rosalyn, get out here and make me something to eat!"

His voice was especially grating.

I frowned, quickly turned off my phone, and hurried to the kitchen to cook him a plate of pasta.

But when I placed the plate in front of him, he didn’t touch it.

Instead, his gaze lingered on my face, scrutinizing me.

"Did you meet anyone new while I was away?"

My heart clenched at his words, and I immediately recalled what he said in the private room at the bar.

A tightness formed in my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I knew exactly who he was referring to—Hector Ford, the man he hired to pretend to pursue me.

The same man who might soon become my groom.

Hiding my emotions, I met his gaze directly and said, "No."

A flicker of doubt flashed through Simon’s eyes.

He studied me for a moment before muttering under his breath, "Did that guy take the money and not do the job?"

"Hmm? What did you say?"

Simon quickly changed the subject in a panic. "Nothing. This is really good."

He finished the pasta in a hurry, wiped his mouth, and then casually ordered, "Make some seafood bisque. I’ll take it with me for later tonight."

When I remained seated and didn’t move, he frowned, opened his suitcase, and tossed a small blue velvet jewelry box onto the table in front of me.

"Here, I got you a gift while I was away. This thing is expensive, so don’t lose it. Now you can go make the seafood bisque, right?"

I opened the box and saw a pair of delicate diamond stud earrings, no bigger than a pinhead.

Before I could even close the lid, Simon had already lost patience.

He yanked me up from the chair and shoved me toward the kitchen.

"Hurry up, I still have things to take care of later.

"If the other party loses patience and decides not to sign the contract, the company’s losses won’t be something you can afford."

Ever since his company had stabilized, Simon kept using words like these to intimidate me.

As I watched the prawns simmering in the bubbling broth, a bitter feeling welled up inside me.

A man who had been allergic to seafood since childhood was now willingly requesting seafood bisque.

What a joke.

When I handed him the insulated container filled with bisque, he scoffed, "Why did it take so long?"

Then, without another word, he swung the door open and left without looking back.

I glanced down at my scalded wrist and let out a bitter smile.

Just as I was about to find the first-aid kit, my eyes landed on a receipt lying on top of his open suitcase.

It was for a four-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond necklace.

The receipt clearly stated that the earrings I received were a complimentary gift.

Staring at the receipt, I slowly clenched my fingers, the bitterness in my heart growing stronger—so strong that I could no longer feel the sting on my wrist.

Hoping to distract myself, I opened my phone and scrolled through my feed, only to stumble upon a new post from Yara Watson, added through a mutual friend.

She held a porcelain bowl of seafood bisque in one hand, smiling radiantly at the camera.

The diamond necklace around her neck was especially eye-catching.

Her caption read: "Food from the one you love tastes better than any delicacy!"

I lifted my head, my gaze falling on the engagement photo hanging in the living room.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Simon Page, being by your side is nothing but pure misery."

Simon, the boy who grew up next door, had been by my side since childhood.

He was handsome, intelligent, and always ranked at the top of our class.

As the less gifted one, I looked up to him, striving to keep up.

During our final year of high school, I studied tirelessly to get into the same university as him.

On the day of our college graduation, I finally mustered the courage to confess my feelings.

He was drunk, his gaze lingering on me with a complicated expression.

Just when I thought he was going to reject me, he said, "Alright, let’s date then."

The moment the words left his lips, he pulled me into his arms, his warm lips pressing against mine as we sank into the moment.

Because of that kiss, I never once hesitated to stay by his side.

Even when he refused his family’s financial support and we ended up living in a cramped basement apartment, I endured every hardship with him without complaint.

When he started his own business, a mutual friend once warned me, "Simon doesn’t love you. He’s just passing time with you. Walk away before you get hurt."

But I refused to believe it.

I gave him my whole heart, convinced that my years of companionship would one day be enough to earn his love.

In the end, I lost that bet.

On the night of our engagement party, Simon received a message from Yara, announcing her return.

Without a word, he left me while I was still giving a toast, stepped off the stage, and drove away without a second glance.

As I faced the guests’ sympathetic stares, I forced back my tears and smiled. "An urgent matter came up at his company. He had to leave right away."

Back at home, I sat in silence, staring at his latest post on social media all night.

A photo of two hands clasped together burned into my eyes like a fresh wound.

From that day on, he came home later and later.

After showering, he went straight to his study.

Standing outside the door, I could hear the quiet laughter drifting from within.

Feigning ignorance, I once asked him what he did in there all night.

He frowned, his expression darkening. "You're too slow to understand anyway. Just stay out of my business from now on."

Hearing that, I felt my heart sink even further.

So, in the end, childhood bonds could never compete with fate.

Distracted while chopping vegetables, I accidentally sliced my finger deep enough to expose the bone.

Simon had no choice but to come out of his study and take me to the hospital for stitches.

As I opened the passenger door, my breath caught at the sight inside—his car was filled with plush toys and covered in cute stickers.

A sharp ache surged in my heart.

I suddenly remembered the time I accidentally left a fluffy keychain in his car. The moment he saw it, his face turned cold.

Without hesitation, he tossed it into the trash right in front of me, his expression full of disdain.

Noticing my gaze on him now, a flicker of discomfort flashed through his eyes.

He hurriedly shoved all the plush toys into the backseat and said, "Can you get in the car now?"

I held back the nausea from the overpowering sweetness in the air, just about to step inside when his phone suddenly rang.

"You’re hurt? I’ll be right there!"

He frowned and glanced at me. "Go to the hospital yourself. I have something to take care of."

I watched as his car sped off, disappearing from my sight, leaving a stinging pain in my eyes.

After my treatment, I happened to see a mutual friend’s social media post.

Following the location tag, I found myself at a golf club.

Through the glass of a private lounge, I saw Simon holding Yara in his arms, looking at her with a depth of emotion I had never seen before.

Before I even had time to feel heartbroken, his voice drifted out from the lounge, confirming everything.

And standing right behind me was the stranger Simon hired—the man who was supposed to pursue me.

His eyes filled with sympathy as he looked at me. "Don’t be sad."

Simon hadn’t come home all night.

At dawn, the buzzing of my phone jolted me awake.

The moment I answered, his commanding voice came through the line. "Make a few of your best dishes and deliver them to the address I just sent before noon."

"Uh—"

Before I could say a word, he hung up.

I glanced outside at the raging storm.

Visibility on the road was terrible, and I nearly got into an accident several times.

After finally picking up the ingredients, I rushed home, working frantically to prepare four dishes and pack them into an insulated container.

Drenched in sweat, I hurried to the hotel room Simon sent me and knocked on the door.

But the person who answered wasn’t him—it was Yara.

She stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a bathrobe, her exposed skin marked with the remnants of a night of indulgence.

Beaming, she took the container from my hands. "You must be Rosalyn. Simon told me you're a great cook. Thanks for going out of your way to bring me food."

Her gaze swept over me from head to toe.

"I really envy your cooking skills. Unlike you, I’m hopeless in the kitchen. Last night, I tried making dinner for Simon, but I ended up cutting my finger."

She held up her bandaged finger, waving it in front of me.

"He was so worried about me," she continued sweetly.

"He wouldn’t let me cook anymore and said there’s someone at home who can bring me meals whenever I want. I guess that must be you—his on-call housekeeper."

Her words were a clear provocation, and I couldn't take it anymore.

I snatched the container from her hands.

She tried to grab it back but quickly realized she wasn’t strong enough to overpower me.

Then, without warning, she lowered her head and sank her teeth into my hand.

A sharp pain shot through me, forcing me to let go.

The container tumbled to the floor, its contents spilling everywhere.

Some of the food even landed on her bare legs.

Feeling the greasy food on her legs, Yara let out a panicked scream and quickly released her bite.

Hearing her cry, Simon rushed out of the room, shirtless.

Without hesitation, he pulled Yara into his arms, his voice full of concern. "What happened?"

The tenderness in his eyes was something I had never seen in all our years together.

Yara didn’t say a word.

Instead, she pointed at me, pretending to be frightened as she nestled deeper into his embrace.

Simon’s brows furrowed as he snapped at me. "What did you do to Yara? I only asked you to deliver a few dishes. How did it turn into this mess?

"If it weren’t for the fact that Yara injured her finger last night, five millimeters long, I wouldn’t have even asked you to come."

I clenched my fists and defended myself. "She bit me first."

I held up my hand, blood still dripping from where she had bit.

But Simon only grew more impatient. "It’s just a little blood. How is that the same as Yara’s injury?

"She’s always been kind and delicate. If I ever catch you bullying her again, I’ll call off the engagement immediately."

As he moved to slam the door shut, I quickly wedged my hand into the gap.

He scowled. "Do you want to lose your hand?"

Ignoring his anger, I looked him straight in the eye. "Simon Page, are you cheating on me right in front of my face?"

For a brief moment, a flicker of panic crossed his expression.

His voice lacked conviction as he scoffed, "What nonsense are you talking about? I’m just taking care of an old friend."

With that, he pried my fingers off the doorframe and shut the door without hesitation, leaving me standing there in a daze.

By the time I dragged my exhausted body home, my phone buzzed with a call from Simon’s mother.

"Rosalyn, as Simon’s fiancée, don’t forget to attend his grandmother’s birthday banquet in three days."

Suppressing the pain in my heart, I forced out a response. "Alright."

Attending the banquet as his fiancée would be my final act as a member of the Page family.

Once it was over, it was time for me to leave.