My fiance, Alexander Elrod, the most outstanding fashion designer of the 21st century, had finally agreed to marry me. He promised to propose once he won the Paris Fashion Award.

When the day arrived, I braved a typhoon to attend his celebration banquet.

There, I watched as Alexander and his assistant, Stella Monroe, kissed shamelessly in front of the cameras. Then, they proudly displayed their wedding rings.

Alexander picked up the microphone. “Stella dear, thank you for your hard work during this time. In the future, I’ll continue leading the fashion world with you, one trend after another!”

My colleagues all turned to look at me and expected me to cause a scene.

I smiled, and I was the first to applaud them. “How wonderful! Wishing you two a lifetime of happiness.”

The room erupted in shocked murmurs.

After the event, Alexander immediately dragged me aside to explain, “Stella stayed up with me for nearly half a year for the Paris Fashion Award. Her mother’s terminally ill, and her last wish was to see Stella get married. Must you take it so seriously?

“Once work is over, I’ll divorce her and throw you the grandest wedding, okay?”

I walked away without answering him.

Then, I gave my father a call. “Dad, the ten-year bet is over. I’ve lost. I’ll come home and take over the family business.”

“Evelyn Astor, must you humiliate me today of all days?”

I looked at Alexander Elrod and Stella Monroe’s intertwined hands. They were wearing the matching “Eternity” rings I had designed.

I had spent three months perfecting the sketches for that design. On top of that, I oversaw the craftsmen as they carved every detail.

I had imagined countless times how the woman’s ring would look on my finger.

Alexander noticed my gaze and quickly released Stella’s hand.

“She’s just wearing it temporarily. I’m fulfilling her mother’s wish. Can’t you be a little more understanding?”

Ten years ago, I had turned down a full scholarship from a top art school.

Back then, Alexander was a nobody. We shared a single rusty sewing machine in the basement.

I still remembered him holding my hand and saying, “When I win the Paris Fashion Award, I’ll marry you.”

A decade had passed since then.

To complete the final piece for this show, I worked three consecutive days without sleep.

On the third night, I nearly collapsed at my workbench. The sewing needle pierced my finger, and blood stained the entire piece of fabric.

“Start over,” Alexander said coldly without sparing me a glance.

On the day we had long awaited, he stood there with another woman. He wore the wedding rings I had designed and demanded that I be understanding.

Just then, Stella walked toward me timidly.

“Eve, don’t blame Alex. This is all my fault. My mother... doesn’t have much time left.”

Alexander immediately stepped in front of Stella to shield her and glare at me. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve frightened her. She’s not well.”

Watching him twist the truth, I remembered every excuse he had ever given me over the years whenever I mentioned marriage.

In our third year, he said that we should wait until the company brand was established.

In our fifth year, he said that we should wait until we entered the international market.

In our eighth year, he said that we should wait until he received an invitation to Paris Fashion Week.

It had been ten years, and he had finally won the Paris Fashion Award. However, he was marrying someone else.

“Don’t bother with the divorce,” I said as I pulled my hand free. “I’d hate for Stella’s mother to see you two separate. It might make her condition worse. I can’t take responsibility for that.”

Alexander froze for a moment before he breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally, you understand. Once this blows over, we can—”

“There will be no ‘we.’” I cut him off. “Ten years, Alexander. Now, I finally see it clearly.”

His expression darkened. “What do you mean?”

“I’m done waiting.”

...

After that, I returned to my apartment in Paris.

When I opened the door, I went straight to the wooden box that held Alexander’s tools.

Inside lay the first gift I had ever given him. It was a set of high-quality tailoring shears.

“It’s too bulky. Not as handy as the one Stella picked up at the flea market.” That was what he had said back then.

Ironically, it was with these “bulky” shears that he had created his award-winning piece.

The box held countless design sketches I had drawn through sleepless nights. Some of their edges had yellowed with age.

Night after night, I would revise them under the lamplight. He would only spare them a cold glance and say, “Redraw.”

I threw the sketches into the trash.

My hands trembled as I discarded the first one.

By the tenth, I felt nothing.

In the end, I threw the shears away too.

My phone suddenly vibrated with a notification from my Instagram feed.

Alexander had posted a few photos.

He and Stella were kissing beneath the Eiffel Tower. They were silhouetted against Paris’s dazzling night skyline.

They were smiling radiantly, and the caption read, [Love’s coronation—a life without regrets.]

I stared at the screen. Suddenly, my vision went dark, and I collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud.

Right then, a sharp, twisting pain seized my stomach. It was the price of seventy-two hours without rest.

I had even forgotten to eat while rushing to finish his final collection.

My phone buzzed again, and it was a message from Alexander.

[Where’s the brocade I brought back? I need to show it to the Vogue editor tomorrow. Bring it over now.]

I was in too much agony to answer, so I curled up further on the floor.

Ten minutes later, a second message came through. It was harsher than the first.

[Are you still sulking? Evelyn, could you at least pretend to care about your career? Stop acting like some bitter, jilted woman!]

I gritted my teeth as I struggled upright and typed a reply.

[Alexander, we’ve broken up.]

As soon as I sent it, I blocked his number and turned off my phone.

I went back to clearing out the wooden box and threw everything out. By the time I was done, I collapsed onto the floor again.

Around midnight, someone unlocked the door.

Alexander barged in and reeked of alcohol. His clothes carried the faint rose perfume that Stella always wore.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he roared when he saw the mess on the floor.

I just looked at him in silence.

He strode over and grabbed my wrist. His hand landed exactly where I had injured myself on the sewing machine a few days earlier. The wound was still bandaged.

He squeezed hard, and blood began to seep through again.

“It’s just a ring! Are you seriously this petty?” he spat through gritted teeth.

I ignored the pain and pointed at the lingering perfume scent on him. “You slept with Stella, didn’t you?”

He froze for a second, then scoffed. “Stop being unreasonable. I only drank because I was in a bad mood!”

Staring at his icy expression, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief.

Ten years of love ended in that moment.

“I’ll resign from the studio tomorrow,” I uttered each word deliberately. “You owe me, and I won’t let a single debt go unpaid.”

He released my hand and let out a short, scornful laugh. “What can you possibly do? Without me, you’re nothing.”

...

The next day, I arrived at the studio to find my workspace cleared out. All my belongings had been dumped in a leaky storage room.

My design drafts, material portfolios, and even award ceremony photos lay discarded in the corner. Some were already waterlogged.

A decade of effort had been tossed aside like trash.

While I crouched down to gather my things, a pair of high heels stopped in front of me.

“Eve, this position belongs to me now.”

I looked up to see Stella standing there. She was wearing the gown I had originally designed to be my celebration dress.

“The gown doesn’t suit you,” I said as I stood and brushed the dust off my skirt.

She smirked, and her eyes sparkled with smug satisfaction. “Alex says it’s the most perfect design he’s ever seen for me.”

I said nothing and continued packing my belongings.

“Oh, right, Eve. Take a look at this.” She pulled a contract from her bag and held it out to me. “Wasn’t international expansion your dream?”

I took the contract, and my heart pounded against my chest. It was the custom design proposal I had rushed to finish overnight for a top luxury brand. Yet, the designer’s signature clearly read “Alexander” in bold. The creative assistant was listed as “Stella.”

My name had been removed.

“How dare you—”

“Alex said your design was too conservative, and that it only made the cut because he revised it.” Stella cut me off. “You should be grateful he didn’t just kick you off the team.”

I clenched my fists, and my nails dug deep into my palms. For ten years, I had stayed up late perfecting every design. Every stitch, every seam carried my effort and devotion. And he had erased my existence without hesitation.

“I’m going to find Alexander.” I turned to leave.

“Eve, wait!” Stella ran after me and grabbed my arm. “Alex is in an interview right now. If you barge in like this, you’ll ruin his image.”

I shook her off. “Let go of me!”

At that moment, Stella pretended to slip. The coffee cup in her hand tipped, and scalding liquid splashed all over her.

“Ah! It burns!” she screamed and collapsed to the floor. Then, she writhed as she clutched her chest.

Everyone in the office turned to look at us.

Alexander heard the commotion and rushed out of the conference room. The moment he saw Stella on the floor, his face turned ashen.

“Evelyn, have you lost your mind?!” He shoved me aside and scooped Stella into his arms with frantic care. “Were you trying to burn her? Don’t you know she has sensitive skin?”

I stood frozen. “I didn’t—”

“Alex…” Stella whimpered weakly in his arms. “I only tried to calm Eve down. But then, she accused me of stealing her life...”

Alexander’s gaze grew colder with contempt. He looked at me as if I were a stranger.

“Get out! Leave, now! My studio won’t tolerate despicable women like you!”

Not a single colleague spoke in my defense. They all kept their heads down.

These were the same people who had once been friendly with me when I stayed behind to revise their designs. At that moment, they chose silence.

“Alexander, just hear me out—”

“Hear what?” He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “That you’re jealous of Stella’s talent? That you can’t stand her earning my recognition? So, you had to hurt her?”

I laughed mirthlessly. “Talent? Her so-called talent was copied straight from my design drafts.”

Stella’s face paled. “That’s a lie!”

“I have evidence. All the original files are on my computer,” I said coldly. “I’ll see you in court.”

Alexander laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. “Evidence? Evelyn, I bought all your computers. I know every password. What could you possibly use against me?”

I stared at him and suddenly understood. When he broke into my apartment last night, he had not come to reconcile. He had come to destroy evidence.

“Security!” Alexander shouted. “Get her out of here!”

Two large security guards immediately rushed forward and grabbed my arms. I struggled uselessly against their grip.

“Alexander, you’ll regret this!” I screamed.

He turned without looking back. “My only regret is wasting ten years on you.”

The guards dragged me out of the studio and tossed me into the pouring rain as if I were trash. I fell onto the ground with a hard thud and scraped my knee. Blood mixed with the rain as it streamed down my legs.

Just then, my phone rang through the downpour, and I answered with shaky hands.

My father’s steady voice came through. “Sweetheart, the ten-year bet is over. I’m coming to take you home.”