I looked up at the man in front of me, his gentle features softening under the dim light. My vision blurred as tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I didn’t understand why, but my chest felt tight, as though the air had been sucked out of the room. The ache was unbearable.

When Daniel saw my tears fall, he panicked. He fumbled to wipe them away, his movements clumsy and unpracticed. “Why are you crying? Did someone mess with you? Tell me the name and I’ll take care of them!” he said with a mix of urgency and concern.

Since childhood, Daniel had been the neighborhood bully. He was undisciplined and mischievous, always getting into trouble and his mother often chased after him, scolding or even beating him. In contrast, I had always been the frail one. Born prematurely, I grew up under the constant watchful eyes of my parents. They wouldn’t let me play outside with the other kids. I could only sit by the window, watching them run and laugh, longing to join.

Every time Daniel saw me sitting by the window while he played chase with the other kids, he’d sneak over, slipping me a handful of treats. He’d pinch my soft cheeks with a mischievous smile and whisper, “When can you come out and play with me?”

As I grew older, my health improved and by middle school, my parents finally relented and let me venture outside. Daniel was overjoyed—he was treating me as though I were made of glass. “Lenore,” he’d tell me solemnly, “if anyone dares to mess with you, just tell them my name. They won’t dare touch you.”

From then on, I was never alone. Daniel was always by my side, taking me wherever I wanted to go. If anyone so much as looked at me the wrong way, he’d show up like a storm, ready to shield me. He was my safe haven, my unshakable protector.

When we entered college, it felt natural for us to take the next step and become a couple. He grew even more attentive, showering me with a love so sweet and devoted it made me believe in forever.

Then Grace entered the picture.

She was everything I wasn’t—brilliant, beautiful and confident. She had a way of carrying herself that drew people in. She and Daniel were in the same major, sharing a connection I couldn’t understand. At first, Daniel tried to include me, translating their technical jargon so I wouldn’t feel left out. But eventually, he grew impatient.

“You won’t get it anyway,” he said one day, brushing me off. “Just go do your own thing.”

From that moment, their conversations deepened, ranging from class discussions to late-night chats online. They became inseparable, their connection undeniable. Meanwhile, the bond between Daniel and me began to strain. We grew more distant and our conversations became increasingly rare, reduced to nothing more than goodnight and casual greetings.

Friends tried to warn me, urging me to keep an eye on their growing closeness, but I waved them off. I told myself that even in a relationship, people deserved privacy. I trusted him—I trusted us.

But trust, I learned, could be a cruel teacher.

***

That night, Daniel insisted on staying, claiming he couldn’t leave me alone in such a state. His words were smooth, his tone carefully measured, but they rang hollow—like lines recited from a poorly rehearsed play. I stood there, studying him. After a long silence, I finally muttered, “Do whatever suits you.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked toward my bedroom. His footsteps followed closely behind, but as he tried to step inside, I shut the door firmly in his face and turned the lock.

“Lenore,” his voice came through the door, soft yet insistent. “I’ll be right outside. When you’re ready to talk, just come and find me, okay?”

There was no anger in his words, no trace of the frustration I expected. That only made it worse.

I ignored him and hot tears rolled down my cheeks, dripping onto the backs of my cold hands. The sharp contrast burned, like an unrelenting reminder of the turmoil inside me.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms tightly around myself as if to hold the pieces of me together. Daniel, I don’t want to love you anymore. The thought whispered through my mind like a quiet plea, both freeing and suffocating at the same time.

The next morning, I woke up groggy and disoriented, the weight of the previous night still pressing down on me. I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the dull ache spreading across my skull, before dragging myself out of bed.

As I stepped into the living room, I caught sight of Daniel hurriedly pulling on his jacket.

“Lenore, I have something urgent to deal with,” he said, his tone brisk. “I’ll come back tonight to pick you up. Let’s go out for dinner, okay?”

Before I could respond, he was already halfway out the door. By the time I blinked, he was gone.

I let out a slow breath, my eyes drifting to the sofa where he had spent the night. Something glinted on the cushions—his phone. He must have left in such a rush that he forgot it.

Picking it up, I hesitated. I thought about calling him later to return it, but before I could decide, the screen lit up with a notification.

Daniel hadn’t set a password on his phone and the message popped up clearly on the screen. What I saw made my stomach churn. My hands tightened around the phone as I stared at the message, my heart pounding in my chest.

The message came from someone saved in the phone as "Little Fool Pig." The photo showed Grace sitting in a hospital emergency room, looking disheveled but still smiling at the camera, flashing a peace sign. Her caption read: [Take your time on the way here, drive safely. I’ll be waiting for you.]

That was when I realized. I let out a self-deprecating smile. So, that was the reason Daniel out in a haste. I called a local courier service to have his phone sent to his office. Afterward, I went straight to work. 

Since graduating, I'd been working at the McLaughlin Family business. My father wanted to toughen me up, so he made me start at the very bottom as an entry-level employee. Years of hard work and proving myself paid off—I was now the department manager, a position I had earned through my own abilities. As soon as I arrived at the office, my assistant walked up to me, handed me a file, “Good morning, ma’am. Here’s a document that needs your approval. All the processes are complete; we just need your signature to finalize it.”

I took the file and scanned its contents—it was a collaboration with the Rollins Group. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t recall ever hearing about this project.

“Is everything all right, ma’am? Should we go ahead?” my assistant asked, noticing my hesitation.

“No!” My response was sharp and immediate, causing her to look startled. But she quickly recovered her composure and hesitated before adding, “Didn’t you say that unless it’s a very important collaboration, the first choice should always be the Rollins Group?”

I had indeed given such instructions—back when I was still naively optimistic about my future with Daniel. At the time, I thought our families would eventually unite and whether his company earned more or mine did hardly seemed to matter. I trusted him so completely that I didn’t bother scrutinizing projects that involved the Rollins Group. “Let’s pass on this one. But from now on, we’ll make sure to choose the best option. The company’s interests come first,” I said as I signed the document.

The workday flew by and when I finally finished, I was starving. I had planned to try the new restaurant that had just opened in town. But when I arrived, I found it packed with people. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a familiar voice calling me.

“Ms. McLaughlin, over here!”

I turned around to find Grace and Daniel sitting at a table, beaming up at me. “It’s so nice to see you. Here for their specials too?” Grace leaned forward, her excitement unmasked.

Daniel froze for a moment when he saw me, but quickly recovered. “I was just about to call you and invite you to join us for dinner. What a coincidence that you also came here. This place is packed, come sit with us,” he said, gesturing for the waiter to bring an extra set of utensils. I hadn’t eaten much at lunch and now, my stomach was rumbling. I figured I might as well stay and join them.

“Ms. McLaughlin, I remember you like spicy food,” Grace chimed in. “Let me order some for you.”

I glanced at the table—everything was light and mild, totally not what Daniel and I usually went for. We both loved spicy food. He had once told me that dishes without chili were like lifeless meals. Without spice, it was as if the food had no soul. Of course Daniel didn’t bat an eye, as the fresh meal spread in front of him.

“Hold on, now. I think we both know who's gonna eat the spicy dish,” Daniel said with a teasing grin. He shot Grace a displeased look. “Grace... didn’t you hear the doctor? You need to lay off the spice and stick to lighter food.”

Grace rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, alright, Mr. Nagging. I won’t order it, jeez. Happy now?”

Watching them bicker, my heart, already battered, didn’t even twitch. It was numb to it all now.

He sighed and shook his head. “You guys go ahead, I need to make a quick call.”

As soon as Daniel walked away, Grace’s smile faded and she shot me a look filled with challenge.

“So, Lenore, right? I have to admit, I’m impressed,” she said, her voice laced with scorn, “You know Daniel just proposed to me, yet here you are, still clinging to him. You sure have some nerve.”

I heard the contempt in her words, but I didn’t flinch. Looking up at her, I replied, “Is stealing someone’s boyfriend something to be proud of? Do you think it’s worth flaunting in front of everyone?”

“You—” She started, her mouth opening in surprise, but before she could finish, a thick cloud of smoke suddenly wafted from the kitchen.

“Fire!”

Someone in the restaurant shout their lungs out. The moment the words rang out, the restaurant descended into chaos. People scrambled to get out, their faces pale with fear as they pushed and shoved, trying to escape the danger.

I quickly snapped out of my stupor and stood up, trying to make my way toward the exit. But before I could take a single step, a figure collided into me, hard. Before I could even steady myself, I heard a familiar, frantic voice call out, “Grace, don’t worry! I’ll get you out of here.”

Daniel didn't miss a step as he rushed to guide Grace out of the restaurant. His heart raced, flooded with relief and in a moment of overwhelming emotion, he hugged her tightly.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt? No? Thank God…” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude.

Then, suddenly, something seemed to hit him. He turned back, his eyes landing on me, standing nearby, watching them in silence.

His voice faltered, nearly choking as he stammered, “Lenore, I—I was just in a hurry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help you, I just...”

“I know,” I interrupted coldly, cutting him off before he could continue.

In that moment, as I stood there, watching Daniel’s desperate attempts to explain himself, I realized something that had been brewing inside me for a while. The man who once promised to always protect me—Daniel, the one who said he would stand by me through anything—was no longer the same person. The man I thought I knew had changed.

His face seemed to relax when he saw that I wasn’t angry, but there was still a tension in his posture. He immediately offered to drive me home.

“I’m good. I don’t need a lift. She, on the other hand, could use your help—shaking like a leaf. You better help her first, drive her home.” I spoke with a tone of finality, not bothering to look at him again.

The following days passed and I didn’t contact Daniel. Instead, I focused on preparing everything for my wedding. The designer had sent me a message, asking me to come by during lunch to pick up the custom-made wedding dress. It was supposed to be for my engagement to Daniel, for that moment when he proposed—but fate had taken a different turn and that moment

As fate would have it, as soon as I walked into the boutique, Grace followed closely behind me.

She saw the gift box in my arms and gave me a haughty look, turning to the designer. “I want to try on that wedding dress.”

The designer replied politely, “I’m sorry, Miss, but this dress was specifically made for the lady here. It’s a custom-made order.”

Grace sneered. “A custom wedding dress, huh? You’re acting like you’re about to get married…”

At that moment, it seemed like she realized something and her face twisted with rage. “Wait, are you going to wear that dress and run to crash my wedding?!”

I rolled my eyes, uninterested in her outburst. “You’ve got something wrong with your head. You should get it treated. Don’t come here and act crazy.” With that, I turned to leave, holding the wedding dress box in my arms. But just as I moved, she lunged at me, grabbing the box from my hands. Before I could react, she ripped open the packaging and began violently tearing at the wedding dress.

That wasn’t enough. She ran to the counter, snatched a pair of scissors and started cutting at the fabric.

“Lenore, don’t even think about ruining my wedding! I’ll destroy your dress and let’s see how you try to sabotage my wedding then!” she screamed, her voice shrill with fury.

“Grace, are you insane?” I shouted, furious, as I tried to grab the dress back from her. In the chaos, the scissors grazed my arm and blood started seeping out.

Grace froze, her eyes wide with shock. Then, after a long, tense pause, she too began slicing her own arm with the scissors, her face twisted in a manic expression. She collapsed onto the floor, softly sobbing, clearly out of control.

I was stunned, unable to comprehend her erratic behavior. I hadn’t even had the chance to speak when Daniel suddenly burst through the door, running towards the scene. His eyes immediately took in the scene—the dress shredded, Grace on the floor and me standing there, bleeding. His face twisted with fury.

“Lenore!” he roared, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. “What have you done?!”

His gaze softened as it shifted to Grace and his expression filled with concern. He rushed to her side, carefully lifting her into his arms. Grace, ever the performer, played weak and try coax Daniel.

“Daniel, don’t blame her. It’s not her fault. She didn’t mean to hurt me. It was an accident.”

“You think I’m going to believe it was an accident?” Daniel snapped, turning to me with venom in his voice. “If Grace is hurt because of you, Lenore, I swear I’ll make you pay for this.”