My best friend, Skylar, used her incredible knack for networking to gather stories about Oscar from our shared school days. She managed to piece together his story with that new girl, painting a vivid picture like a forgotten play brought back to life.

The girl's name was Melina Walker, an exchange student at his school. During gym class, when she ran out of energy, she fainted right at Oscar's feet. Without hesitation, he picked her up and carried her to the nurse’s office.

After that incident, Melina was undeniably drawn to him, even though Oscar initially brushed her off as he often did with others. But everything changed one afternoon on the basketball court. She had brought a sports drink for another guy, and Oscar’s face darkened immediately. In that game, he made sure the guy lost badly, his competitive spirit ruthless and sharp.

When the game was over, Oscar took her hand in front of everyone, his voice brooking no argument as he declared, "From now on, you’re not allowed to bring drinks to anyone else."

The rest of their story unfolded predictably, a romance that blazed bright and intense. Meanwhile, I was left to drown in that sea of passion, just another casualty in their newfound love.

Luckily, my best friend noticed it early on, and there was only a shallow cut on my wrist. Nevertheless, she was so worried that she insisted on dragging me to the hospital to get it bandaged. While she went to fetch the medication, I wandered past the dermatology department, looking around absentmindedly.

And there he was.

Oscar Munoz, with a girl beside him, emerged hand in hand from one of the consultation rooms. I felt like a stalker, hiding behind a pillar, unable to tear my eyes away from them.

The girl’s skin was smooth and flawless, and her light blue dress highlighted her fresh and ethereal charm. So, that was Melina Walker. Oscar gently rubbed the back of her red hand, a concerned look on his face. "Next time you buy new hand cream, let me try it first. My skin's tougher," he said softly. "If there's any reaction, I'll take it for you."

Her delicate, pale hand clung to his arm as she looked up and smiled sweetly. "It's just an allergy, after all. A few pills will do the trick. You're so worried, driving all the way to this hospital just for this." He raised his hand and affectionately tousled her hair. "This dermatology department is one of the best in the country. If you won't take care of yourself, I will."

Somehow, it had started to rain outside. He took off his jacket and placed it over her head. The arms that had held me countless times were now wrapped tightly around her waist. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. My phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the floor. Tears streamed down my face in large droplets.

I stood by the second-floor window, watching them huddle close as they hurried to the parking lot. The rain drummed relentlessly against the windowpane. The person I had longed for became a vague silhouette in the curtain of rain.

After a while, my best friend rushed in. I quickly wiped the tears from my face. Her soothing voice filled the room with her familiar chatter:

"I just got the doctor to prescribe you a scar removal cream from abroad. I heard it's amazing. Even if it doesn't completely vanish, it'll at least fade quite a bit. You'll thank me later—I'm like your fairy godmother."

I suddenly threw myself into her arms.

At that moment, reality hit me like a lightning bolt. He used an excuse to trap me in the ruins. He wasn't my partner, my equal. He was nothing more than a cowardly shadow of someone who never truly cared. I could no longer remain defeated amidst those ruins, letting the sand and debris bury me.

I needed to move on. To find my way to the green pastures, into the daylight. I had to live well for those who love me. I had to live well for myself.