The candlelight flickered across Maddox's face as he reached into his pocket. My heart fluttered as I watched him pull out a small velvet box.

"Macie," he said, his voice low and sincere, "one year ago tonight, you chose to stay for me."

I smiled, remembering that night when I'd torn up my plane ticket and told my parents I wouldn't be leaving the country with them. The night I'd chosen Maddox over everything else.

"This is for you," he said, opening the box to reveal a delicate silver ring with a small diamond. "A promise ring. I want you to know that no matter what, I'll always choose you too."

I gasped as he slipped it onto my finger. "Maddox, it's beautiful."

"You're beautiful," he whispered, reaching across the table to take my hand. "I love you, Macie. More than anything."

The waiter approached with our wine, and I felt like I was floating. This was everything I'd dreamed of when I'd given up my parents' plans for us to be together.

Maddox's phone buzzed on the table between us. He glanced at it, then back at me.

"Sorry," he said, but his eyes kept darting to the screen.

"Aren't you going to turn it off?" I asked softly.

He hesitated. "It might be important."

Before I could respond, the phone lit up again. This time, when he looked at it, his expression changed.

"I have to take this," he said, already standing.

"Maddox, please," I whispered. "It's our anniversary."

"Just one call," he promised, stepping away from the table.

I watched him walk to the corner of the restaurant, his expression growing increasingly concerned as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

"Macie," he said when he returned, already reaching for his jacket. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

"What? Why?"

"It's Danielle," he explained, not quite meeting my eyes. "She's having a flare-up. She says it's the worst one yet."

"Danielle?" I repeated, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. "Can't someone else help her?"

"No one understands her condition like I do," he insisted, already moving toward the door. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Maddox," I called after him, my voice barely audible. "Please stay. Just for tonight."

But he was already gone.

---

Three nights later, I was walking home from the library. It was nearly midnight, and the campus was eerily quiet. I decided to take a shortcut through an alleyway to save time.

That's when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Hey there, pretty girl," a male voice called out.

I quickened my pace, but they matched it easily.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," another voice said.

I turned to see three men blocking my path. One of them stepped closer, and I could smell alcohol on his breath.

"Please," I whispered, backing away until I hit the wall. "I don't want any trouble."

"Neither do we," the tallest one said with a smirk. "We just want to have some fun."

My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. I ducked behind a dumpster as they approached, praying they wouldn't see me.

With shaking fingers, I dialed Maddox's number.

One ring. Two rings. Voicemail.

"Please pick up," I whispered into the phone. "Please, Maddox."

I called again. And again. And again.

By the fifteenth call, tears were streaming down my face.

"Where are you?" I whispered desperately into the phone. "I need you."

Twenty calls. Twenty-five.

The men were getting closer. I could hear them laughing.

Thirty calls. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three.

---

The next morning, I sat on my bed, a cup of tea cooling beside me as I stared at my phone. Thirty-three missed calls. Zero returned calls.

When the door opened, I looked up to see Maddox standing there. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot. He smelled faintly of vanilla—Danielle's perfume.

"Macie," he said, his voice rough. "I heard what happened."

I held up my phone, showing him the screen. "Thirty-three calls, Maddox."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I told you, Danielle was having a crisis."

"You could have called me back," I said, my voice breaking. "You could have at least texted to say you were okay."

"I was helping her," he insisted. "She needed me."

"And I didn't?"

Maddox sighed, sitting down beside me. "Macie, you're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" I repeated, incredulous.

"Yes," he said firmly. "Danielle was in a life-or-death mental crisis. You were fine."

"I was attacked!" My voice rose despite my effort to control it.

"But you're alive," he pointed out coldly. "Danielle might not have been if I hadn't been there."

I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. This wasn't the man who had cried when I'd considered leaving the country. This wasn't the man who had promised to choose me always.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

Maddox looked away, and I caught him glancing at his phone as it lit up with a message. Danielle's name flashed on the screen before he quickly turned it over.

"I'm the same person I've always been," he said, but his eyes slid past mine, focusing on a point just beyond my shoulder. "You're just not being fair right now."

And in that moment, I wondered if I'd made a terrible mistake choosing him over everyone else who had truly loved me.

The world spun in slow motion as I stepped off the curb. One second I was checking my phone, hoping for a message from Maddox. The next, I was flying through the air, pain exploding through my body as metal crunched against flesh.

A scream tore from my throat—or maybe it was someone else's. Everything blurred together as I hit the pavement, my head cracking against the concrete. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was a car speeding away, its taillights disappearing into the distance.

"Macie! Oh my God, Macie!"

Sophie's voice seemed to come from miles away. I felt her hands on my face, her fingers pressing against my wrist.

"Someone call an ambulance!" she shouted, her voice breaking.

I tried to speak, but only a moan escaped my lips. Everything hurt. Everything.

"The ambulance is coming," Sophie whispered, her tears falling onto my face. "Just hang on."

I drifted in and out of consciousness as paramedics arrived. Broken ribs, they said. Possible concussion. Internal bleeding.

"She needs surgery," someone said.

Sophie squeezed my hand. "I'm calling Maddox right now."

I wanted to stop her. After thirty-three missed calls, after our anniversary disaster, after everything—I didn't want him here. But I couldn't form the words.

---

"Macie's in surgery," Sophie's voice echoed through the hospital corridor as she paced outside the operating room. "She was hit by a car. You need to come now."

I couldn't hear Maddox's response, but I imagined his usual excuses.

"I'll be there as soon as possible," his voice finally came through, distant and distracted.

Sophie's face hardened. "What could possibly be more important than this?"

"Macie will understand," he said. "I'm dealing with an emergency."

I closed my eyes, letting the medication pull me under. Of course he wasn't coming. Not when Danielle needed him.

---

Four hours later, I lay in a hospital bed, my body wrapped in bandages, my head throbbing despite the painkillers. The doctor had just left after confirming three broken ribs and a mild concussion.

"You're lucky," he'd said. "The next few weeks will be painful, but you should make a full recovery."

Lucky. Right.

I watched as a man down the hall embraced his wife, who was crying into his shoulder. An elderly couple held hands through a curtain. Everywhere I looked, people had someone.

Except me.

The door to my room finally opened. Maddox stood there, his hair disheveled, his eyes darting around the room before settling on me.

"Macie," he said, stepping inside. "I came as soon as I could."

I noticed it immediately—the smear of pink lipstick on his collar. Danielle's shade. The same color she'd worn when I'd seen them together at the café last week.

"You look terrible," he added, his voice softening as he approached the bed.

"Thanks," I whispered, my throat dry and raw.

"I'm sorry I'm late." He sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. "Danielle was having a panic attack. She's terrified of hospitals, and she needed me to hold her hand during a routine check-up."

Of course she did.

"She couldn't stop spiraling," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "I couldn't just leave her."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. But all I felt was a dull ache that had nothing to do with my broken ribs.

"It's fine," I lied, closing my eyes.

---

"The bills are going to be insane," Sophie said a week later as she helped me organize my medications. "Have you called your parents?"

I shook my head. "I can't ask them for money after everything."

Sophie frowned. "Macie, they're still your parents."

"Not anymore," I whispered. "Not after I chose him over them."

A knock at the door interrupted us. Danielle stood there, her expression a perfect mask of concern.

"I heard about your accident," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "How terrible."

Sophie bristled beside me, but I placed a hand on her arm.

"Thank you for stopping by," I said flatly.

Danielle's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Actually, I came to offer help. You're going to need money for those medical bills, and I know you're... financially limited."

I stiffened at the subtle reminder that I'd cut ties with my family.

"I work at this amazing nightclub downtown," she continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "They're looking for servers. The tips are incredible."

"That's... kind of you," I said, surprised by the offer.

"Great!" Danielle clapped her hands together. "I'll tell them you'll start next week."

Maddox appeared behind her, his face brightening. "That's a wonderful idea! You two can spend time together. Maybe this will help you bond."

I looked between them—Danielle's triumphant smile, Maddox's oblivious enthusiasm—and felt a chill run down my spine.

Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong.

But I was too exhausted, too broken, and too desperate to see it clearly.

The bass pounded through my chest as I balanced a tray of drinks in the VIP section. Three weeks had passed since my hospital stay, and the pain in my ribs still flared with every movement. But I needed this job—needed the money Danielle had promised would help with my medical bills.

"Table seven needs another round," the manager shouted over the music.

I nodded, weaving through the crowded club. Danielle had called in sick tonight—another "episode" that required Maddox's immediate attention. She'd promised to cover my training shift, but now I was on my own, thrown into the deep end of this predatory fish tank.

"Smile, sweetheart," a customer leered as I delivered his drink. "VIPs pay premium for premium service."

I forced a smile, feeling the hem of my uncomfortably short uniform ride higher as I bent to collect empty glasses.

That's when I noticed him—a man in an expensive suit, watching me with calculating eyes from the corner booth.

"New girl?" he asked as I approached his table.

"Just started," I replied, keeping my voice professional.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his hand catching my wrist as I tried to turn away. "I'd like a private conversation."

"I'm working," I said, pulling away.

His grip tightened. "I'm paying you to work."

Before I could protest, he was steering me toward a private booth in the back, his fingers digging into my arm. The door locked behind us with a click.

"Please," I whispered, "I don't do that kind of work."

"Oh, I think you do," he slurred, his breath hot against my face. "Pretty girls like you don't end up in places like this by accident."

I fumbled in my apron pocket for my phone, hiding it in my palm as I backed away. With trembling fingers, I dialed Maddox's number.

The man lunged forward, pinning me against the wall. "No one's coming to save you."

"Please stop," I begged, feeling tears spill down my cheeks.

Maddox answered on the fourth ring. "Macie? What is it now?"

"Help me," I gasped into the phone. "I'm in VIP four—someone's—"

"Jesus, Macie," Maddox cut me off. "I can barely hear you over that music. Are you seriously calling me about work right now?"

The man's hand slid up my thigh, and I whimpered.

"I'm with Danielle," Maddox continued, irritation evident in his voice. "She has a fever. Just handle it, Macie."

"But—"

He hung up.

The man smiled, misinterpreting my horror as submission. "See? No one cares."

Something snapped inside me. I grabbed a champagne bottle from the ice bucket and swung with all my strength. Glass shattered against his temple, and he crumpled to the floor.

---

Dawn painted the sky gray as I stumbled up the stairs to our apartment. My uniform was torn, my makeup smeared with tears. Every step sent pain radiating through my still-healing ribs.

I expected an empty apartment. Instead, I found Maddox sprawled on the couch, his phone still clutched in his hand.

"Danielle?" he mumbled, half-asleep.

I froze in the doorway. Even in his dreams, her name was on his lips.

He shifted, and I saw his phone screen light up with a notification. A text from Danielle:

"Thank you for holding me all night. You're my hero."

The timestamp showed it was sent just fifteen minutes ago.

I stood there, staring at the man who was supposed to protect me. The man who had promised to choose me always. The man who had left me to fend for myself against an attacker.

I didn't wake him. Instead, I walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs and turned the shower to scalding. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, trying to wash away the feeling of that man's hands on me.

As hot water streamed down my face, mixing with my tears, I looked at my reflection. The girl who had torn up her plane ticket for love was gone. In her place stood someone hollow-eyed and broken.

My hero had become my greatest danger.

---

"You'll love this dinner," Danielle insisted, ladling sauce over my plate. "I made it especially for you."

The table was filled with her friends—all strangers to me—watching with curious eyes as I sat rigidly beside Maddox.

"It smells amazing," I said politely, though my stomach knotted with anxiety.

Danielle beamed. "I added a special ingredient."

The first bite tasted rich and savory, but something was off. A familiar tingling sensation spread across my tongue.

"Is there shellfish in this?" I asked, panic rising.

Danielle's eyes widened with feigned innocence. "Oh! I forgot to mention—there's shrimp paste in the sauce."

My throat began to close as I gasped for air. Maddox jumped up, knocking over his chair.

"Where's your EpiPen?" he demanded.

"In my purse," I wheezed, pointing to the door.

The room erupted into chaos as guests searched for my medication. I collapsed to my knees, clawing at my throat.

That's when Maddox's phone rang.

"Hello?" His voice sounded distant as my vision blurred. "What? When?"

He listened for a moment, then his expression changed from concern to alarm.

"I have to go," he announced, grabbing his jacket. "Danielle's father is in town."

"What?" Sophie exclaimed from somewhere nearby. "Macie could die!"

"Take care of her," Maddox instructed, already moving toward the door. "Danielle needs protection more than Macie needs an EpiPen right now."

As darkness crept into the edges of my vision, I watched him disappear through the doorway, leaving me gasping for air on the floor.

The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was Danielle's satisfied smile as she knelt beside me, pretending to help while whispering:

"Maybe now you'll understand who he really belongs to."