Sorry, I’m Done. You Broke Me.

I grew up thinking Wilmer and I were meant to last forever. We were engaged at birth, never apart, not even for a single day.

But everything started to change the day the fire broke out. He had gone into the stables, and when the flames spread, the smoke nearly suffocated him. He would have burned alive if not for her… Madonna, a servant girl. She dragged him out, coughing and half-conscious, her arms blackened with soot. From then on, everything went wrong.

His father said; “If you want to marry Lucille, you must keep Madonna by your side until the favor is repaid.” And Wilmer agreed. For me. For our future. That is what he told me.

He even made some strange promise with Madonna, that if she was ever unhappy, he would rush to her side no matter what. At the time, I thought it was silly. How often could someone be unhappy? But I was wrong. With her, unhappiness seemed endless.

The first time she complained was on my birthday. She looked at me and said softly, almost sadly, “I’ve never had a party this grand.” And just like that, Wilmer turned to me.

“Lucille, please… let Madonna have the party. Just this once.”

I froze. It was my birthday. Mine. But I gave it away. I gave it away because he begged me, and because I thought if I said no, he’d be disappointed.

Later, I told him through tears, “Maybe we should just cancel the engagement.”

He panicked. He lit up the whole city with fireworks that night, tens of millions spent just to stop me from leaving. He dropped to his knees and whispered, “Everything I’m doing, Lucille, it’s so I can marry you sooner. Don’t doubt me.”

I believed him. I always believed him.

The second time, Madonna came to see our wedding house. She touched the walls, looked around with wide eyes, and said, “I’ve never seen a place so beautiful.”

Wilmer gave it to her. Just like that. He turned to me that night, pulling me close like it was nothing, and whispered, “I’ll get you another one, Lucille. A bigger one. Just wait for me a little longer.”

So I waited. And waited. I watched as he gave away our wedding house, our car, even the cats we had planned to raise together. Everything was taken from me and handed to her. And every time, he promised to replace it with something more.

By the one hundred nighty-ninth time, my heart was already threadbare. Still, I clung to hope. That day was supposed to be the last. The favor was finally repaid, and I sat outside the City Clerk’s Office all morning, waiting for him to come so we could finally get our marriage certificate.

But he never came. Instead, I saw the news that he had spent tens of millions on a red diamond. A perfect diamond. The kind that symbolizes “a gift for only one person in a lifetime.” And he gave it to her. Madonna.

My chest went cold. I picked up the phone and called him with shaking fingers.

“W-wilmer, let's not get married.”

He laughed. “Lucille, you’re throwing another tantrum? Threatening me again?” Then he lowered his voice like he always did when she was near, teasing her. “Be good, Lucille. I’ll come back to you after I’ve repaid her.”

Those words.

Again.

Always those words. I’d heard them for five damn years, and I had swallowed them every single time.

This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I just hung up. Calmly.

He thought I was still sulking. He then sent someone to deliver a bigger diamond to me, as if that would fix everything. He thought I was jealous. He thought I was petty. He thought I would wait again.

But what he didn’t know was that this was my last chance.

When I got home, I called my aunt in France. “I’ve decided already. I agree with the marriage you mentioned last time.”

I could hear her crying on the other end. She kept saying thank you, over and over. She was so happy, so relieved.

And I sat there, phone pressed to my ear, smiling a little even though my heart felt like ashes.

Because for once, I wasn’t waiting anymore.

After I hung up the phone, I sat on the floor of my room and stared at everything Wilmer had ever given me. For a long time, I just sat there, not moving, until my hands reached for the music box he once ordered just for me when we were little. Back then, I thought it was the most magical thing in the world. Then I pulled out the sweater he knitted for me in middle school. I still remember his clumsy stitches, how proud he was when he tugged it over my shoulders. And then there was the ring, the one he gave me when he first proposed. I used to hold it close to my chest, dreaming of the day we’d finally walk into the City Clerk’s Office together.

But mixed in with those gifts were all the things he gave me only because of Madonna. The diamonds, the purses, the shoes—gifts meant to soothe me after he had already given something precious of ours to her. At first, I treasured them, but tonight I packed every single thing into boxes.

These were once my most precious memories, but not anymore. I didn’t want them. I didn’t want any of it.

By midnight, everything was taped up and ready. I told my assistant to deliver the boxes straight to Wilmer. After that, I opened the cabinet, reached inside, and pulled out the signet ring. The token. The thing that had always symbolized our two families’ bond. My hands trembled, but I held it tightly as I drove to the apartment that was supposed to be our wedding home.

The code on the door was still the same. His birthday, then mine. My chest hurt when I pressed the buttons, but I went in anyway.

The sound of the lock startled him. He came out of the bedroom, his eyes wide when he saw me. “Lucy?” He looked almost relieved, his lips curving into a smile. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me. Do you not like the diamond? If you don’t, I’ll buy you something else. And… yesterday wasn’t the right date. I already asked someone to pick a new one for the certificate.”

I didn’t answer his excuses. I just looked at him and pointed to the boxes I had pushed inside. “I came to return something.”

His smile faltered. His brows pulled together like he was annoyed. Before he could say anything, I heard footsteps. Light, quick, and careless.

Madonna came running down from upstairs barefoot. She clung to his waist without hesitation.

My whole body went cold.