Milla POV

“Why does everything always go wrong for me? No one understands,” Emilia murmured, tears welling in her eyes.

Alfa gently placed his hands on her shoulders, offering a comforting squeeze.

“Em, please don't cry. You're not alone—you have me.”

He turned to me, seeking affirmation.

“Right, Milla?”

“Of course,” I replied, my voice devoid of warmth.

Emilia looked up, hope flickering in her eyes.

“Then... could I stay at your place for a while?”

“Stay as long as you need,” Alfa interjected before I could respond.

He always went above and beyond for Emilia, regardless of how it made me feel.

Did he realize the pain it caused me? Or did he choose to ignore it?

“In that case, could you help me pack before my landlord throws out my stuff?”

They hurried off, Alfa's hand protectively on Emilia's waist. After a few steps, he paused and turned back.

“I have to go. It's important. If there's anything you want to tell me, just text me, okay?”

I nodded, forcing a smile.

“It's nothing urgent. Go ahead.”

I watched them leave, swallowing the words I had intended to say—the words about ending our relationship.

Emilia's problems took precedence over everything else in Alfa's world.

The next day passed without a single message from him.

Feeling discarded, I decided it was time to move on.

I spent the morning packing away memories of Alfa—bags, clothes, gifts—all destined for donation.

As I handed the boxes to the workers, a delivery truck pulled up.

Alfa and Emilia stepped out, approaching me.

“Milla, you're not at work?” Alfa asked, feigning surprise.

“Not feeling well,” I replied, quickly hiding the donation receipt, “What brings you here?”

Before they could answer, a mover inquired about Emilia's new apartment.

They headed upstairs, leaving me behind.

To my astonishment, Emilia had rented the unit next to mine.

Her new furniture, still wrapped in plastic, was luxurious, unlike anything Alfa had ever bought for me.

“Your home should be your sanctuary,” he once told me.

So, this was why he took the day off—a rarity when it came to me.

“Miss, you dropped this,” a worker said, handing me the donation receipt.

Alfa glanced at it, then at me.

“Donating something?”

“Just some old clothes,” I replied, folding the paper and tossing it into the trash.

“By the way, what did you want to tell me yesterday?”

Before I could answer, Emilia emerged, beaming.

“Hi, Milla! We're neighbors now!”

She extended her hand, but I hesitated.

“Sorry, my hands are dirty,” I said, avoiding her gaze.

“Alfa thought it would be good for me to be close to someone kind like you, at least until I find a new job.”

Or perhaps it made it easier for him to see us both.

“I'll be busy with college and research, Emilia. I might not be around much.”

I turned to enter my flat, but Emilia's sobs stopped me. Alfa wrapped his arms around her, whispering soothing words.

“I'll handle everything. Don't cry,” he said, casting a sharp glance in my direction.

Emilia nodded, wiping her tears.

“Milla, don't you see how hard things are for Emilia? She lost her job, and you're too busy to be a good neighbor!”

Emilia stepped back, shaking her head.

“It's not Milla's fault, Alfa. He's important and busy. I must seem like a burden to him. It's natural if she resents me.”

“Oh, Emy, come on. I already consider you like a sister. It's just Milla who misplaced her jealousy.”

Emilia's sobs intensified as she clung to Alfa. I stood there, the invisible third wheel, watching my partner embrace another woman right before my eyes.

Alfa's voice cut through the tension. “Most women are empathetic to another's pain, Milla. But you? You're just... indifferent.”

I bit my tongue, knowing any defense would be twisted against me. Without a word, I turned and walked toward my apartment.

“Milla!” Alfa's shout echoed down the hallway. “You're just going to walk away? Is this how an educator behaves? Shame on you!”

The movers paused, their eyes darting between us. Humiliation burned my cheeks.

I stopped, turned slightly, and said, “I didn't realize you were speaking to me. Your attention seemed... elsewhere.”

“Milla, I was comforting Emilia!”

“Alfa, please,” Emilia interjected, her voice trembling. “Don't let me come between you two.”

As she stepped back, tears streaming down her face, Alfa grabbed her hand and marched toward me.

“Apologize to Emilia,” he demanded, eyes blazing.

I looked at Emilia, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Apologize? For what? I haven't insulted her.”

“You've made her cry!”

“Because I didn't drop everything to comfort her? Alfa, I have responsibilities. If she needs constant company, perhaps you should hire someone.”

“Milla!” His hand rose, but Emilia swiftly stepped between us.

“Don't,” she whispered. “Milla's right. I'm imposing.”

Alfa's finger pointed inches from my face. “You're the coldest woman I've ever known. How did I end up with someone so heartless?”

His words pierced deeper than any blade.

Emilia's sobs resumed as Alfa led her into her new apartment, leaving me standing alone, painted as the villain.

Back in my nearly empty apartment, I watched the last mover leave, leaving Emilia and Alfa alone next door. The thought gnawed at me.

Jealousy and despair clouded my mind. I feared it would affect my lectures, my students.

I needed help.

The psychiatrist listened patiently as I poured out my heart. Her advice was grounding.

Later, seeking solace, I visited a café, hoping a cappuccino might lift my spirits.

But fate had other plans.

There they were—Alfa and Emilia—sharing lunch. He fed her bites, her laughter ringing out as she leaned into him.

I sighed, the weight of it all pressing down.

Nearby, a woman whispered to her friend, “Isn't it lovely to have such a caring boyfriend? He must never hurt her.”

If only she knew.

Milla POV

I didn’t plan to stay.

The second I saw them—Alfa and Emilia, laughing softly over a shared croissant—I turned on my heel to leave. I just wanted to disappear.

I figured finding a cappuccino somewhere else might be just as nice.

But the universe had other plans.

Thunder cracked like a whip across the sky, and then the rain came. Not a drizzle. A full-on storm. A biblical downpour. No cabs. No ride-hailing apps. No way out.

So I stayed. Stupidly.

I found the farthest corner from them, kept my head down. Tried to disappear. But my eyes? They betrayed me.

They kept darting in their direction. Watching her feed him another bite of pastry. Watching them laugh like they were the only two people in the world.

And me?

I was breaking quietly, piece by piece.

"Stupid," I cursed under my breath.

I moved to switch seats, and my foot caught the edge of the rug. I stumbled. Hard. The sound of silverware clattering stopped. All eyes turned. Including theirs.

I hit the floor. My knee stung, but my pride? That took the real hit.

They didn’t get up. Not Alfa. Not Emilia. No one said, "Are you okay, Milla?"

They just sat there.

I bit down the pain, stood up, and headed to the counter with shaking hands to pay for my untouched coffee.

And just as I reached the register, the universe twisted the knife—again.

They stepped up beside me.

I pretended not to see them. But Emilia spoke first.

“I’ll wait in the car, Alfa,” she said sweetly when the light drizzle continued as she stepped toward the car.

Alfa caught her hand. Concern etched across his face, he reminded her of the upcoming trip to Bali, urging her to stay dry to avoid catching a cold.

Trip. Bali. Together for exactly.

Each word hit like a blow to the chest.

“What a coincidence,” Alfa said, his tone sharp. “Are you following us, Milla?”

I almost laughed. “Seriously? My psychiatrist told me to relax. This place seemed like a good start.”

He looked genuinely thrown. “Psychiatrist? What happened to you?”

“Work pressure, toxic environment, and lies.”

That was directed at both of them. Emilia turned away, lips pursed.

“You broke your own laptop,” Alfa muttered. “I’ll find time to take you somewhere, Milla. You need help.”

Then, suddenly, Emilia’s hand flew to her stomach and face twisted.

“What’s wrong?” Alfa panicked.

“Nausea…” she murmured, glancing at me.

And I knew what that meant.

Pregnant. Or she wanted me to think she was.

I walked outside. The rain had let up, but the storm inside me hadn’t.

I waited for a cab. I saw Alfa guiding a pale Emilia to their car. Then—cold steel pressed against my neck.

“Ssh. Don’t scream. Give me your bag or I’ll slit your throat.”

My blood ran cold. My breath hitched. My heart tried to leap out of my chest.

He yanked at my bag. I didn’t resist. But before he could run, someone kicked him hard. He staggered back, the knife grazing my neck just enough to draw blood.

“Milla! God, you’re bleeding!”

Blood dripped down my collar, but honestly? It hurt less than everything else.

Alfa helped me into his car. Emilia didn’t want to move to the backseat.

“I’m nauseous, Alfa. If I throw up—”

“She’s bleeding, Emy!”

“And if I get worse? What about Bali? We won’t get a refund!”

I nearly passed out—not from the cut, but from the absurdity of it all.

At the hospital, I got stitches. Emilia? She pouted over mild nausea like she was dying. Her symptoms were mild. But her moaning and dramatics? Academy Award-worthy.

I lay down, closed my eyes, and drifted into memory.

Two years ago, I was the one who got mugged for him. I tore my dress, got bruised. And he said, “I don’t care about your dress. You’re safe, that’s what matters.”

Now?

"Come, rest your head on my shoulder," he murmured, his voice tender and comforting. "Later, I'll make you some porridge.

"Why does it have to hurt this much?

“Milla?” Alfa peeked into my room.

I wiped my tears quickly, afraid my voice would shatter if I spoke.

“I need to take Emilia home. She’s really weak.”

I nodded, turning my back to him. He kissed my cheek gently.

“I’ll be back to pick you up.”

Two hours later, I was discharged. I stepped into the lobby alone.

A nurse's eyes flickered with concern. She offered a faint smile, and I continued toward the exit.

Outside, the sky was overcast with impending rain. I was scanning the street devoid of Alfa's face or his waiting cars. The realization settled in—no one was coming.

Drawing my coat tighter, I began to walk, each step a quiet affirmation of solitude. Luckily, I caught a cab.

Back at my flat, Alfa’s car was gone. Emilia’s windows were dark. Who knew where they were now?

My phone buzzed—texts from Mom.

[Milla, pick a wedding venue. Lucas's mom is waiting for your answer.]

The phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. I changed into clean clothes, each movement sending a sharp pulse through the ache in my neck.

Later, Alfa arrived, his eyes scanning the half-empty apartment with a puzzled expression. I handed him my phone, and a message was displayed:

Mouse problem. I threw out everything. Sorry for not telling you.

He read it silently, then looked at me without pressing for details. Instead, he reached into a bag and produced a box of donuts and a birthday card.

It wasn't my birthday.

“I thought it was today,” he shrugged. “Still, the donuts are good, right?”

I ate one. Sweet. Hollow. Like everything else between us.

“Alfa, I’m tired. Come back tomorrow. Help me get new furniture.”

“I can stay tonight, if—”

“No.”

That night, I made my decision.

The next day, I resigned from my teaching position. Packed every memory, every trace of him, and sent it all to my mother’s place.

I’d planned to drain Alfa’s wallet like Emilia did. But no—I was leaving.

He didn’t even show up that day.

Instead, I went to his flat and met Stevan—Alfa’s coworker. He wasn’t alone.

“Alfa’s embezzled company funds. Travel, electronics, rent. We’ve been tracking him.”

Then I saw Alfa’s car. Parked outside a jewelry store.

I called him.

“Where are you, Alfa? You said you’d come.”

“I had a sudden meeting, Milla. I’ll call you later.”

Lie after lie. Enough!

I canceled my morning flight for tonight instead.

Before I left, I gave Stevan Alfa’s hidden number. The one only Emilia and I knew.

“Alfa and Emilia are flying to Bali today. You need to stop them at the airport. This is your chance.”

He traced it. The flight tickets were confirmed.

It was the last gift I ever gave Alfa. Because no matter how much he broke me, I had once loved him with everything I had.

And exposing him?

That was my final act of love.

My phone buzzed.

I stared at the screen. My finger hovered. Then ... I answered.