I'm getting married. But Ryder, my boyfriend of seven years, has no idea.

He recently hired a new assistant, Blair, and has been swamped ever since.

The two of them are the toast of the high-society circuit, a perfect power couple frequently seen at galas and parties together.

To celebrate a major project Blair landed, Ryder booked an entire restaurant for a celebratory dinner.

During the dinner, Blair intentionally swapped my lemonade for a strong cocktail. Unaware, I took a large sip.

Ryder just watched, smiling playfully as he asked, “How is it, baby? How does it taste?”

He forgot. He forgot that I have a deadly alcohol allergy.

My throat swelled shut faster than I could have imagined. As I collapsed, the only sounds were my own gasps for air and a porcelain plate shattering on the floor.

That night, I lay in the family's private medical wing.

When I opened my eyes, the oxygen mask was still pressed to my face. I nodded at my mother.

The arranged marriage. I agreed to it.

I'm getting married. But Ryder, my boyfriend of seven years, has no idea.

He recently hired a new assistant, Blair, and has been swamped ever since.

The two of them are the toast of the high-society circuit, a perfect power couple frequently seen at galas and parties together.

To celebrate a major project Blair landed, Ryder booked an entire restaurant for a celebratory dinner.

During the dinner, Blair intentionally swapped my lemonade for a strong cocktail. Unaware, I took a large sip.

Ryder just watched, smiling playfully as he asked, “How is it, baby? How does it taste?”

He forgot. He forgot that I have a deadly alcohol allergy.

My throat swelled shut faster than I could have imagined. As I collapsed, the only sounds were my own gasps for air and a porcelain plate shattering on the floor.

That night, I lay in the family's private medical wing.

When I opened my eyes, the oxygen mask was still pressed to my face. I nodded at my mother, the Donna of the Antonio family.

The arranged marriage. I agreed to it.

...

My mother has always been decisive.

I had just returned to the villa from the medical center and was pressing my hand to the fingerprint lock on the door when my phone started vibrating.

A dozen wedding proposals, one after another, with exquisite photos and detailed notes.

I swiped my thumb across the screen and answered my mother's call.

"Mamma knew a long time ago that Ryder wasn't the one for you. A man who truly wants to marry you doesn't make you wait seven years without a ring. It's not too late to walk away. Everything for the wedding is already in place."

"It's in three days. Take your time packing. No need to rush."

So, in everyone else's eyes, it had always been crystal clear.

And for seven years, I had believed his empty promises, letting him string me along.

"Mamma, you choose. I don't have a preference. Just keep the ceremony simple."

I heard footsteps behind me. Ryder had appeared at some point, and at the word "wedding," his voice turned sharp.

"A wedding? What wedding?"

He reached for my screen, but I slapped my phone face-down on the marble countertop.

He was about to grab for it again, but then his own phone rang.

The villa was so quiet I could make out the woman's voice on the other end of the line.

Blair's frantic, trembling voice came through the phone. "Ryder, help me... My competitors found my address. They sent a threatening letter. I'm so scared."

Ryder's expression changed instantly, his brow furrowed.

"Blair, don't panic. Stay home, don't go out for any reason. I'm on my way."

With the call ended, all thoughts of the wedding seemed to vanish from his mind.

Once again, he didn't hesitate to leave me standing there alone, turning and rushing out into the night.

I watched him go, my own expression unchanged.

After he left, I called my aunt, Zia.

My parents had returned to our family home in Lanze ten years ago to manage the family business.

Since then, my aunt Zia had taken me in, marrying and moving to Star City. Ryder happened to live next door to her, and that's how we met.

Later, my aunt remarried and moved to Blue Island, selling the old house. I didn't want to intrude on her new life, so I moved in with Ryder.

And I stayed for seven years.

When my aunt heard I was going home to get married, she gasped.

"Married? To Ryder? Well, it's about time! Seven years, he ought to make it official."

I pressed my lips together lightly, not letting her guess any further.

"Zia, it's not him. It's an arranged marriage, set up by the family. I've never met the man."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"...Olivia, are you sure about this? I thought Ryder was sincere about you, I just don't know why he's been dragging his feet on marrying you. Should I go talk to him?"

I let out a faint laugh that even I found hollow.

"There's no need. To be precise, we were never even officially together. He never officially asked me out."

"At best, we were in a gray area for seven years. If I let it drag on any longer, I'd be wasting a decade on him."

My aunt couldn't believe we had lived together for so long without being official.

She finally stopped trying to persuade me, saying only that no matter what I decided, she would be on my side.

Before hanging up, I created a new three-day countdown on my phone's widget.

The numbers began to tick down.

The next day, I had my mother arrange for a shipment of local specialties and a case of my father's treasured red wine to be flown in from the Lanze estate.

It was a thank-you to my aunt for her ten years of care, and also a farewell.

That evening, a delivery truck bearing our family's crest finally arrived.

I followed the truck, pointing the driver toward my aunt's apartment building. I never expected to run into Ryder downstairs.

Blair trailed a step behind him, both of them carrying paper bags from a high-end supermarket filled with new linens, dishes, and scented candles.

They looked like a young couple who had just moved in, about to cook their first meal together.

My aunt, Lucia, had come down to meet me. Her brow furrowed at the sight, and I cut her off before she could speak.

"Zia, the delivery from Mamma is here. Remember to sort through it. And decant that wine beforehand; don't waste the vintage."

I didn't spare Ryder a single glance. For once, he was the one who broke the silence, offering an explanation.

"Olivia, don't get the wrong idea. Blair's old apartment had terrible security, so I helped her rent a suite in this building. It's such a coincidence that Zia lives here too. Why did you bring so much stuff?"

I turned to direct two of my soldati to unload the wooden crates from the truck, answering him without a glance.

"You don't need to report your affairs to me. These are from the family. Who knows when I'll be back, so they sent a little extra."

He was visibly relieved that I wasn't making a scene.

"That's good. Liv, your hometown isn't that far from here. Anytime you want to go back for a visit, just let me know."

He still had no idea I was leaving in three days. I didn't plan on telling him.

My aunt wanted to interject, but seeing the way Ryder was half-turned, carefully shielding Blair behind him, her face went cold.

The four of us stood there awkwardly in the lobby, frozen on the steps by the apartment entrance.

In the end, it was Blair who broke the silence, saying softly that her arms were tired.

Ryder immediately chimed in, asking my two soldati to wait.

He reasoned that Blair wasn't carrying much and should use the elevator first.

I glanced at the two shopping bags, stuffed to the brim, and gave a faint wave of my hand, motioning for my guards to step aside.

A flicker of surprise crossed Ryder's eyes before he quickly pulled Blair into the elevator.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I saw in Blair's demure, smiling face a reflection of myself from years ago.

Back then, when my aunt remarried and moved away, Ryder was just as attentive, running back and forth to carry my boxes into his brownstone, a wide grin on his face as he said he was welcoming home the lady of the house.

My aunt stood beside me and sighed.

"Olivia, are you sure you don't want me to ask? You've known each other for so long. It would be a shame if you broke up over a misunderstanding."

I shook my head.

"There's no need. There's no misunderstanding between us. He never lets something he truly cares about wait. The fact that he doesn't have to explain is the explanation."

In reality, the few things they bought could have been put away in five minutes.

But after I had carried all the gifts upstairs, shared a cup of tea with my aunt, and came back down to leave, he was nowhere in sight.

Out of respect for our seven years together, I still took out my phone and sent him a message, asking when he would be back.

The message had barely gone through when a voice note came back from him.

I pressed play and heard Blair's saccharine voice.

"Olivia, Ryder's helping me in my new kitchen! He just got this place set up for me, and there's so much to arrange. You go on ahead; I don't want to hold you up!"

I was about to call a car when she sent another one.

"Olivia, please don't get the wrong idea. Ryder is just helping me out. He knows how hard it is for a girl trying to make it in Star City all by herself..."

Thinking of my parents far away in Lanze, whom I hadn't seen much of in ten years, I swallowed the words in my throat and closed the chat window.

Not long after the car pulled away, Ryder's call came through.

"Olivia, what was that attitude you had with Blair? She's my subordinate. What's wrong with me helping her find a safe place to live? The company hasn't arranged housing yet, so shouldn't I lend a hand?"

"Olivia, when did you become like this? At the victory dinner, you were sulking the whole time, claiming you felt sick and wanted to leave. I haven't even gotten on your case about that, and now you're pulling this stunt?"

Through the phone, I could hear Blair's perfectly timed, suppressed sobs.

She was a world away from the sharp-tongued woman who had stood before me.

I saw right through their clumsy charade, but I was too tired to offer a word in my own defense.

"You're right, it was my fault. I'm fine. You go on."

Any more words would be a waste of time.

"I'm already on my way home," I said, my voice flat. "I didn't wait."

My flat reply cut him short.

As I hung up, the car was just pulling through the gates of the villa community.

I stepped out of the car and into the foyer, my phone buzzing nonstop. It was Ryder's company's internal Slack channel.

When I opened it, the unread messages had already piled into the triple digits.

The latest post was a photo from Blair: Ryder, sleeves rolled up, kneeling on the bathroom floor to fix her new shower head.

The caption read: "Where can you find such a considerate boss! I'd happily give my life to this job!"

It was followed by a flood of envy and compliments from the entire group of colleagues.

"I've never seen the big boss like this. Isn't he supposed to have extreme germaphobia? You can't tell at all!"

"Oh my god, a man out of a bespoke suit is so sexy! You can feel the testosterone through the screen. Deadly. I'm officially a fan."

"Dream on. The future Mrs. Boss posted that. We're just here to clock in and clock out."

When Ryder was just starting out and struggling, I was the one who handled all his miscellaneous affairs, unpaid.

That was until he hired Blair, who completely took over my role. As for this internal channel, I had forgotten to leave it.

I read through every single comment before clearing the chat history and clicking "Leave."

Since I had already decided to go, getting a preview of their married life wasn't as painful as I had imagined.

But for a moment, I was transported back seven years. When he was starting from scratch, he would constantly show off little moments of our life together in the group chat.

In those candid photos, I was either making him a Mancini espresso or hunched over, organizing his files.

There wasn't a single person in the company who didn't know the boss's intentions.

Wrapped in that fervent, possessive love, even the most tedious start-up period felt incredibly sweet.

His ostentatious affection had turned the otherwise dull work chat into the corner everyone loved to watch.

But all of that changed the day Blair arrived.

She took over all my roles. Including being the object of his public affections.

Ryder began to subtly forbid his staff from mentioning anything about me at the company. He quietly favored his new assistant.

Ryder had once docked an entire year's bonus from a manager I was friendly with, just for complaining that Blair was impulsive and not as composed as I was.

In the end, I had to privately cover the difference from my own funds to appease the furious manager.

Returning to this villa where I had lived for seven years, a place that was never truly mine, I began to pack my belongings.

While clearing out a drawer, I found a custom, vintage-style leather album. I held it in my hands and slowly flipped it open on the leather sofa.

It documented every gift Ryder had promised and given me over the past seven years.

Seven years ago, he had pressed me against a wall, swearing that once he filled all one hundred pages with our memories, we would exchange vows at the altar.

This thick album was filled, all but for the very last empty page.

We both knew what was missing. And now, I knew that my ring finger would never wear anything he gave me.

In the end, this final step had become the most ridiculous joke of all.

I took the album to the living room and threw it directly into the roaring fireplace.

I watched as the expensive leather curled and twisted in the flames, slowly turning to ash.

Along with my seven absurd years of fantasy, it all burned away.

Ryder walked in just in time to see this, his face instantly turning pale.

He charged over like a madman, shoved me hard onto the carpet, and plunged his bare hands into the scorching fireplace.

But the flames licked at the back of his hands, instantly searing his knuckles raw.

It was already burned, Ryder. There was nothing left to save.

He turned his head in frustration, his eyes bloodshot, watching the flames rapidly consume our past.

"Why did you burn it?" he finally yelled. "Olivia, are you insane? That was seven years of our memories, and you just destroyed it all!"