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.

On the day of Simon’s grandmother’s birthday banquet, the family estate was packed with guests.

As Simon and his father’s influence in the business world grew, nearly everyone eager to forge a connection with them showed up.

Dressed in an elegant white dress, Yara looked young and radiant, her soft beauty accentuated by the delicate fabric.

Standing beside her, Simon had his arm wrapped around her waist, the two of them toasting guests like a perfect married couple.

I watched them from a distance, my heart tightening as if a giant hand had clenched around my heart, making it hard to breathe.

A nearby servant noticed my pale expression and quickly approached, bowing respectfully. "Miss Rosalyn, you’re here."

The lively chatter around us suddenly quieted.

Guests turned to glance between me and the pair at the center of attention, curiosity and speculation flickering in their eyes.

Soft whispers rose behind me.

"So, she’s Simon Page actual fiancée?"

"Then who’s the one standing with him…?"

"Shh, don’t talk about things like this. If you offend the Pages, you’ll regret it."

I clenched my fists at my sides.

The moment Simon’s gaze landed on me, I forced a composed smile.

But instead of restraining himself, my presence only seemed to embolden him.

Right in front of everyone, he laced his fingers through Yara’s and strode toward me, his voice dripping with mockery.

"You're late. That’s hardly the behavior expected of my future wife. If you can’t fulfill the role, maybe it’s time to let someone else take your place."

He didn’t say the name of the woman who would take my place, but it was obvious to everyone who he had in mind—the woman in his arms.

Simon’s brows furrowed as he looked me over with open disdain. "Honestly, I must’ve been out of my mind to ever be with you. You’re nothing but an embarrassment."

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and judgmental stares fell on me as hushed murmurs spread.

Meanwhile, Simon acted as if I no longer existed, his gaze softening as he turned back to Yara.

Simon held Yara close, his voice ringing out across the banquet hall.

"My engagement to Rosalyn Saunders was never my choice. The person I truly love has always been someone else."

He lowered his head and pressed a lingering kiss to Yara’s lips before continuing, "I hope that from now on, whenever you come across Yara, you’ll look after her for my sake."

Standing there, I felt as if I had been drenched in ice-cold water, my entire body trembling uncontrollably.

I became nothing more than a joke—a spectacle for everyone to mock and trample on.

My face paled as I listened to his words, my heart crumbling into dust.

In that moment, every ounce of love I had held for Simon over the years shattered, vanishing without a trace.

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to remain composed.

Then, steadying my steps, I walked up to him and, in front of all the guests, declared with unwavering resolve, "Simon, let’s call off our engagement."

For a split second, he froze.

Then, with a smirk, he sneered, "Are you serious? Don’t regret it later."

I shook my head. "I will never regret it."

Reaching for the diamond-encrusted bracelet, an heirloom passed down to the Page family’s daughters-in-law, I slipped it off my wrist and placed it in Yara’s hand.

"It belongs to you now."

Simon’s gaze flickered as he stared at the bracelet on her wrist, his expression darkening.

"Rosalyn, are you sure about this? Even if you end up on your knees begging to come back, I won’t take you back."

I met his eyes, my face devoid of emotion.

"Understood. Don’t worry, I won’t be in your way anymore."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away without looking back.

Just as I reached the door, his voice, laced with amusement, drifted behind me.

"Just wait and see. I know her too well. She’ll be begging for my forgiveness in less than three days."

I stiffened.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I had yet to save in my contacts.

"Would you marry me?"