From his eyes, I saw a chilling resolve that sent shivers down my spine. My body shook as hot tears streamed down my face, and it felt like a beast was roaring inside my chest.

"Brody Warren, how dare you do this to me? I'm calling the police! I'm calling the police!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice slicing through the air.

Brody laughed icily, stepping closer and forcing my mouth open. He whispered, "Go ahead, call them if you want, but not before you drink this medicine."

With terror in my eyes, he forced the liquid into my mouth.

I struggled desperately as the medicine slid down my throat, but it was no use. An unbearable burning sensation flared up, and I screamed in agony.

Within moments, my screams grew weaker, the fiery pain spreading like wildfire.

When I tried to scream again, I found my voice was gone.

In that moment of realization, it felt as if every part of my body, every drop of blood, was silently screaming.

There was a time when I believed Brody was my savior, pulling me out of darkness and into the light.

Now, he was the one dragging me into even deeper despair.

Perhaps the sight of my misery frightened him.

Brody untied the ropes that bound me and pulled me into his arms.

His eyes were red, and he hoarsely repeated apologies over and over.

"Hold on, just a little longer, it'll get better soon."

"Don't be afraid, I'll take care of you. I'll always be by your side..."

"This is the last time..."

"Once this is sorted, we'll owe her nothing, trust me."

He seemed to be explaining to me, but also trying to reassure himself.

With tears streaming down my face, I pushed him away, wanting to speak but unable to make a sound.

The intense pain surged through my chest as I desperately clawed at my throat, trying to vomit, but nothing came up.

Seeing this, a flash of guilt crossed Brody's face, and he quickly pulled me back into his arms.

"Don't do this, Anastasia, it's okay if you can't sing, you've got me..."

I glared at him with reddened eyes, feeling as though my heart was being torn apart, suddenly filled with an overwhelming hatred for this man.

I hated his hypocrisy, his cruelty, and most of all, my own helplessness.

Perhaps frightened by the hatred in my eyes, he released me with trembling hands, a flicker of panic in his gaze.

I collapsed weakly to the floor, the pain in my throat making it hard to breathe.

But the despair was even more suffocating.

It was over, everything was over.

Realizing this, my eyes widened in emptiness, tears cascading down my cheeks.

I met Brody Warren during high school when he transferred and became my seatmate. At the beginning of freshman year, I was still grappling with the loss of my parents in a car accident. They were on their way to buy me a birthday gift when tragedy struck, and although no one mentioned it, guilt and self-reproach followed me like a shadow. I even sank into severe depression, teetering on the brink of collapse and contemplating suicide.

Brody’s arrival was like a beacon in my dark world. His patience and kindness gradually helped heal my heart. He was the only one I truly confided in. As I slowly recovered, our relationship deepened. He became an indispensable part of my life.

But everything shifted in my sophomore year of college when I saw Maisy Hunt by his side—a girl who grew up with him and was seen by adults as his perfect match. Brody, who once cherished me, began to change. Just because Maisy said, "I'm craving pastries from the south side," Brody would leave me when I was sick to fetch them for her. He claimed he loved me, yet he prioritized Maisy’s wishes and sided with her constantly.

There was an unbreakable bond between them, forming an invisible wall that kept me out. I struggled but felt trapped, like sinking in quicksand. I remember the last time, to ensure Maisy made the finalists, Brody locked me in a basement to prevent me from competing, cutting off all contact with the outside world. The basement had no food, no water, and the air was running thin. Yet, he dismissed my life and celebrated with Maisy for three days, forgetting there was someone suffering below.

Those three days were tormenting, with hunger and despair consuming me. Close to fainting, I curled up on the cold ground, and in a daze, thought I saw Brody walking toward me. I reached out, only to be kicked away. As I came to, it was just a dream. When Brody finally let me out, I was weak from hunger. Afterwards, Maisy texted me: “Even if you're with him, Brody will do anything for me. Leave while you can.” I showed Brody the message; he brushed it aside, insisting I was the one he loved. Furious, I confronted him, and he knelt, begging for forgiveness, tears streaming down his face.

He explained, “Maisy has a scar from saving me from an attacker. Because of this, I go to any lengths to fulfill her requests.” Out of misguided love, I forgave him. But now, I realize how wrong I was. He had no boundaries. Alas, it was too late for regrets. Everything had been ruined, all to placate Maisy, destroying my future.

Before losing consciousness, I hoped to see remorse in Brody’s eyes, but found none as I blacked out. My heart turned to ash. If I survived, I resolved never to want Brody in my life again.

When consciousness returned, I was in a hospital bed. It was noon the next day. I realized I had cried myself awake when cold tears slid from my cheeks to my lips. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled the room. The nurse nearby was quietly discussing something. “I saw the live stream. There was a singing competition in Oxford, and Maisy Hunt won! She’s being fast-tracked to the Royal Academy of Music.”

“Oh, I saw that too! She’s beautiful and sings wonderfully. What a bright future she has!”

“Not to mention she has a handsome, wealthy boyfriend. It’s like a romantic drama, and I’m so envious!”

“Certainly makes one feel inadequate!” Their words pierced my heart, nearly suffocating me with pain. I wanted to tell them I was supposed to be the champion. But as soon as I tried to speak, searing pain tore through my throat, and I swallowed the words.

The nurse, noticing I had awakened, came over. After checking everything was fine, she tried to reassure me. “Your classmates mentioned you went to Oxford too. No one expected this. Please, don’t feel too sad...” They sounded sympathetic. But I was already drowning in sorrow, tears slipping from my eyes, as if part of my heart was missing, leaving a deep, suffocating ache.