Elodie POV:

The next morning, I woke up feeling hollowed out, but clear-headed. I showered, the hot water a temporary comfort, and stepped out of my room. The smell of coffee and freshly made toast hung in the air. It was his signature apology breakfast.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind, and his chin rested on my shoulder. "Morning, sleepyhead," Barrett murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "Feeling better?"

My entire body went rigid. The familiar, casual intimacy of his touch was now repulsive. It felt like a spider crawling on my skin. I fought the urge to flinch, to shove him away. Not yet. I needed to play my part a little longer.

He either didn't notice my stiffness or chose to ignore it. He nuzzled my neck, his lips warm against my skin. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said softly. "Things got complicated at the office. I shouldn't have left you."

Silence. I didn't offer the usual absolution. I didn't turn in his arms and kiss him, telling him it was okay. I just stood there, a statue in his embrace. The silence stretched, becoming a tangible thing between us.

Finally, I felt his grip loosen slightly. "Elodie?"

That was my cue.

I gently unwound his arms from my waist and turned to face him. My expression was neutral, my eyes holding his. "What's more important, Barrett?" I asked, my voice calm, almost clinical. "Me, or your work?"

He was visibly taken aback by the directness of the question, by my lack of emotion. The Barrett I knew would have expected tears, accusations. Not this cold, quiet inquiry.

"You, of course," he said, his voice a little too quick, a little too smooth. He reached for me again, a look of placating concern on his handsome face. "El, I'm so sorry. I..."

I watched him, a scientist observing a specimen. The slight flicker in his eyes, the subtle tension in his jaw. He was a masterful liar, but I knew his tells now. I could see the code behind the performance.

He pulled me into another hug, this one more urgent, more desperate. "Please don't be mad at me," he whispered into my hair. "I can't stand it when you're mad at me."

It was pathetic. And it was working on my last nerve.

"I'm hungry," I said, my voice muffled against his chest.

It was the perfect line. An admission of a basic, physical need. It was a step down from the emotional confrontation he was expecting. It was a lifeline.

He pulled back, a relieved smile spreading across his face. He thought he'd been given a reprieve. He thought I was letting him off the hook. "Of course. Come on, I made your favorite."

He led me to our small dining table. There it was: avocado toast with a perfectly poached egg, a side of fresh berries, and a steaming mug of the expensive coffee he liked.

He'd made this for me a hundred times. But as I looked at it, all I could think of was the text I'd seen on his phone. The one to Dallas. I'll make you breakfast in bed tomorrow, I promise.

He hadn't been able to fulfill his promise to her. So, I was getting the leftovers. I was the stand-in, the substitute, even for his apologetic breakfasts. The thought was so absurdly, painfully bitter that I almost laughed.

"How is it?" he asked, watching me with that earnest, focused gaze that used to melt me.

I took a bite. The food tasted like cardboard in my mouth. "It's good," I said.

"Eat more," he urged, pushing the plate closer. "You need to get your strength back."

He watched me eat for a moment, then his expression turned serious. "Elodie, after you've rested up, I think we should go for a full physical. Just to be safe. I know a great clinic. We can get everything checked out, top to bottom."

My fork clattered against the plate. A full physical. She's got a nice pair of kidneys. Perfect match for Dallas. We checked. The conversation from the cigar lounge echoed in my head. He wasn't worried about my health. He was checking on his investment. On his backup plan.

"I don't think that's necessary," I said, pushing my plate away. "It was just exhaustion."

"I insist," he said, his voice soft but with an unyielding edge. "Please, Elodie. For me."

There it was. The gentle, loving coercion. The velvet glove over the iron fist. Arguing would only make him suspicious.

"Fine," I said, my voice tight.

Later that day, my phone rang. It was Anona. "Shopping spree! Now! My treat! You need a break from that lab and from... well, everything."

Normally, I'd say no. But today, it was a perfect excuse. "Okay," I said, a plan forming in my mind. "I'll meet you at the mall in an hour."

It would be my last time seeing her. My last chance to pretend everything was normal before I disappeared from her life forever.

Barrett returned that evening with my medical report. He'd pulled strings to get the results expedited. He sat me down on the sofa, his expression grave.

"Good news," he said, holding up the file. "You're perfectly healthy. Heart, lungs, liver... and two excellent kidneys." He smiled, a triumphant, proprietary smile that made my skin crawl. "I told you we had nothing to worry about."

I just nodded, my stomach churning.

I decided to test the waters. To see how far he would go. "Barrett," I began, my voice carefully casual. "I've been thinking. Maybe this bio-printing research is a dead end. I was considering shifting my focus. Maybe to synthetic blood research."

His hand, which had been resting on my knee, froze. "What? Why?" His voice was sharp. "We're so close with the kidney project."

"I'm not sure it's the right path anymore," I said, watching his face. "And... I'm tired of hiding. When are we going to tell people about us, Barrett? It's been seven years."

His expression shuttered. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cool, calculating look. "Elodie, we've talked about this. My family... they wouldn't understand right now. With Dallas's health issues, it's a sensitive time."

The lie was so practiced, so smooth. He took my hand, his grip tight. "Just a little longer. I promise."

I knew that promise was worthless. It was a stall tactic. A way to keep his little scientist in her cage until her work was done, or until her organs were needed.

I pulled my hand away, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. "Okay," I said, offering him a small, placating smile. "I'll think about it. I won't do anything rash."

He relaxed, believing he had once again managed me, his brilliant but pliable little project. He had no idea I was already gone.

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Elodie POV:

The cafe at the mall was buzzing with the cheerful chaos of a Saturday afternoon. I'd arrived early and ordered Anona's favorite, a ridiculously sweet caramel latte, placing it opposite my own simple black coffee. It felt like a small, final act of friendship.

A few minutes later, she breezed in, but she wasn't alone. Trailing in her wake was a woman so beautiful it was almost jarring. Tall, slender, with raven hair and a fragile, porcelain quality.

It was Dallas Fernandez.

Anona rushed forward, oblivious. "El! Sorry we're late! I ran into Dallas and insisted she join us. Dallas, this is my best friend, Elodie Pierce. Elodie, this is Dallas."

My brain short-circuited. The world swam in and out of focus. My best friend had just introduced me to my boyfriend's fiancée. The woman whose life I was supposed to be saving, one way or another. The woman who was wearing my future.

"Elodie? Are you okay?" Anona asked, concern clouding her cheerful face. "You've gone completely white."

I forced a smile, a brittle thing that felt like it might crack my face. "Just... surprised. It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Fernandez." Then, turning to Anona, a sharp, cruel question popped out before I could stop it. "Shouldn't you be calling her your sister-in-law soon?"

Dallas offered a delicate, practiced laugh. "Oh, please, call me Dallas. And Anona just likes to jump the gun. We're not married yet."

Anona giggled. "Yet! Barrett is absolutely obsessed. You should have seen him the other day when Dallas had a little dizzy spell. He nearly called in a medevac helicopter."

My eyes were drawn to Dallas's left hand, which was resting elegantly on the table. On her fourth finger was a diamond ring so large it looked like a block of ice. It was a stunning, custom-designed piece.

Anona, ever the enthusiast, followed my gaze. "Isn't it gorgeous? Barrett designed it himself. It's called 'The Elodie'."

The name hit me with the force of a physical impact.

My breath hitched.

"He said it was inspired by a constellation he loves," Anona prattled on, completely unaware that she was narrating the script of my personal horror movie. "He said it represents a rare, brilliant star that guided him."

Dallas smiled softly, a blush gracing her perfect cheeks. She added, her voice like honey, "He actually calls it 'My Elodie'."

My Elodie.

My vision blurred. The world around me dissolved into a watercolor wash of indistinct shapes and colors. I was going to be sick.

I remembered a night, years ago, under a sky full of stars. Barrett had pointed to a faint, distant star. That one's you, he'd said. My Elodie. Brightest one in the sky, even if no one else can see it yet. He told me he'd name a star after me. I thought it was the most romantic thing I'd ever heard.

He hadn't named a star after me. He'd named my replacement's ring after me. The love story he'd fed me, the intimate moments, the whispered secrets-he had recycled them. He had taken our story and given it to her.

I wasn't just a secret. I was a rough draft.

A single, hot tear escaped and slid down my cheek. I couldn't stop it.

"Elodie!" Anona exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I croaked, pushing my chair back abruptly. "I... I think I just need to use the restroom. Too much coffee."

I fled, not looking back. In the sterile, white-tiled bathroom, I leaned against the counter, staring at my reflection. The woman in the mirror was a wreck. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with a pain so profound it was terrifying.

The tears came then, hot and silent. I choked back a sob, pressing my hand to my mouth. How could he? How could he be so cruel? It wasn't just the lies, the cheating, the horrifying plan for my kidney. It was this. This theft of my memories, of my very identity. He had hollowed me out and given the shell to another woman.

The love I had felt for him, the stubborn, stupid love that had persisted even after the revelations at the cigar lounge, finally, finally died. It curdled into something ugly and cold. Hate.

I was trying to pull myself together, splashing cold water on my face, when I heard Dallas's voice from just outside the restroom door. She was on the phone.

"I know, Barrett, I'm fine," she was saying, her voice losing its fragile edge, replaced by a sharp annoyance. "Stop smothering me. Yes, I'm with your sister... and her weird little lab-rat friend. God, you should see her. She looks like she's about to cry into her coffee. So pathetic."

A beat of silence.

"What do you mean, be nice to her?" Dallas's voice rose, sharp and jealous. "Why? Because she's the one brewing you a new kidney for me? Or because she's the backup organ bank? Don't think I don't know what you're planning, Barrett. Just make sure she stays in her lane. After I'm healthy, I don't want to ever see her or hear her ridiculous name again."

Her words were like acid, dissolving the last vestiges of my composure. My hands started to shake uncontrollably. More tears fell, dripping from my chin onto the pristine white counter. Splash. Splash. Splash. Each one was a testament to my monumental stupidity.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, wiped my face, and walked out of the restroom. I pasted a fragile smile onto my face.

Anona looked up, relieved. "There you are! Feeling better?"

"Much," I lied.

The conversation flowed around me. I was a ghost at the table, just nodding and smiling when it seemed appropriate.

"Oh!" Anona said suddenly. "Dallas is having a small birthday get-together at the house next weekend. You should come, El!"

"I can't," I said, a little too quickly. "I have to... calibrate some equipment at the lab. It's a whole weekend thing."

Anona's face fell. "Oh, bummer. Well, I'll bring you back some cake."

"Thanks," I said, my smile feeling stiff. "I'd like that."

I would be on another continent by then. And they could all choke on their cake.

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