"Oscar, I had my reasons for leaving back then. I can explain everything to you," Maya pleaded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to suppress the flood of emotion rising in her chest. "Can you just come with me, please?"

She was trying—desperately—not to let it all end like this. Not after all these years. Not after growing up together, not after over a decade of feelings that had matured from innocent childhood affection into something deep, unwavering, and impossible to shake.

Oscar had long become the one constant in her heart—the man she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.

She held on to one last flicker of hope, the faint idea that maybe—just maybe—Oscar would believe her. Just like he used to. But this time, his voice carried a trace of something new. Something cold. Something impatient.

"I'm not here to argue about the past," he said flatly. "And I'm not blaming you. But Diana is your sister. She's so weak now—couldn't you show just a little compassion for her?"

Maya stared at him in disbelief. Oscar, who had once stood firmly on her side, was now chastising her? Her eyes widened as the tears spilled freely.

Compassion?

She and Diana had never been close. In fact, they had been locked in silent warfare for most of their lives.

She still remembered it clearly: the day Diana's mother had strutted into their home like a queen, fully aware she was the other woman. The insults. The provocation. The smugness.

Her mother, already weakened by illness, collapsed from the shock. Even the doctors couldn't save her.

Maya had only been eight years old when she lost the only person in the world who loved her unconditionally.

Oscar had known all of this. Back then, he had sworn he would stand with her—that they would face the world together and avenge her mother's pain.

But as they grew older, Maya had learned to swallow her grief and buried her resentment deep within herself, trying to maintain the illusion of peace.

But now? Now, Oscar wanted her to accept the daughter of the woman who destroyed her family as his bride. And he wanted her to be understanding?

That one sentence broke something inside her.

She thought of her mother, gasping for breath on a hospital bed. And she remembered the vow she had made at that very moment: she would never repeat the same tragedy. She would never let another person trample her heart like that.

Let alone compete endlessly with Diana for the same man.

"Fine," she said. "Then I won't bother you two anymore."

She gave him a faint smile and turned to leave.

Oscar's expression faltered. He stared at her back like he wanted to stop her, but he didn't move.

"Wait!" It was Diana who spoke first, her voice honeyed with cruelty. She wore a thin smile, the kind that never reached the eyes. "Maya, it's my wedding day. It wouldn't be complete without your blessing. Why don't you attend the wedding? It'll mean so much to me."

Maya's hands curled into fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms until they drew blood. The pain was sharp—but not as sharp as the nausea roiling in her gut.

"I'm not feeling well," she said stiffly. "I'm sorry."

She thought Oscar would step in. He had to. But he just stood there, arms crossed, saying nothing—as if sulking, or worse, silently agreeing with Diana.

Diana, emboldened by his silence, smiled even more sweetly. "It's okay. I brought my private physician just in case. You have nothing to worry about. And if you still refuse to attend the wedding… well, I'll have to assume you don't really wish us well. That you don't want to help me fulfill my final wish."

Maya let out a soft laugh.

So many years had passed, but Diana's manipulative games were just as childish—and just as pathetic—as ever.

"Fine then," she said, tilting her head toward Oscar. "Why don't you decide? Do you want me to witness your wedding or not?"

It was one last chance. A final lifeline she was willing to offer him.

But Oscar didn't look at her. He was too busy letting Diana cling to his arm. Diana tilted her pale face up to him. And in the end, his heart softened.

"If that's what Diana wants, then… you should come. After all, it's just for show," he said blandly. "I owe her too much. So please, be the bigger person. Alright?"

Whatever last shred of hope Maya had held onto disintegrated in that moment. She stared at him, silent for several seconds, then nodded slowly.

"Alright," she said. "I'll attend the wedding."

'Let this be my punishment, for the way I had once disappeared without a word,' Maya thought. 'After today, I'll return overseas. And I'll never see Oscar again.'

After walking into the venue alongside them, Maya spotted several familiar faces—close friends she and Oscar had known for years.

And just like that, the atmosphere turned unbearably awkward.

"Maya, please don't be upset… Diana's illness really can't wait," someone murmured, trying to sound earnest.

"Yeah, we all know today's wedding is just for show, so please, don't take it to heart," another chimed in.

So they all knew. Every single one of them had known that Oscar was marrying Diana. Yet not one of them had told her. And now, they were standing there, urging her to understand. To be the bigger person. To smile and nod and make peace with betrayal.

Maya gave a quiet, expressionless nod. "I know."

She never imagined that in the four years she'd been gone, everyone around her had quietly drifted toward Diana's camp. The creeping realization left her hollowed out and bitterly amused.

When the wedding ceremony began, Oscar and Diana stood beneath the soft, golden lights, gazing into each other's eyes. They followed the emcee's instructions to the letter, every movement choreographed, every vow uttered with polished precision.

And then, Oscar pulled out the ring.

A customized Harry Winston diamond ring.

Maya's heart clenched. Oscar wouldn’t have chosen that brand lightly—he knew exactly what it symbolized: an eternal commitment. And the resolve in his expression… it wasn’t fake.

So he'd already made his choice long ago.

Then why? Why had he sought her out the moment she returned? Why had he ignited old feelings if he had no intention of honoring them?

She forced herself to keep it together, willing the ceremony to end so she could finally leave this charade behind.

And then came the final act: the kiss.

The emcee, eager to hype up the crowd, prompted Oscar and Diana to kiss. Oscar hesitated and glanced over at Maya.

She wasn't even looking at him.

She was scrolling through her phone with cool detachment, as if the entire spectacle before her were nothing more than background noise.

A wave of irritation surged through Oscar. Since when had Maya become so composed? The old her would have stormed off in a fury if he so much as chatted with another woman. Yet now he was literally marrying her sister, and she was just… playing with her phone?

Why wasn't she breaking down?

Why wasn't she fighting for him?

That strange unease in his chest tightened. But before he could say anything, Diana tugged his arm, gently urging him back to the moment.

Meanwhile, Maya paid them no mind.

She was browsing flight tickets—desperate to leave, but frustrated to find no departures available for the next few days. She didn't want to stay here, not a minute longer.

The doctor had specifically advised her to keep a balanced diet, remain calm, and avoid stress. None of those were remotely possible in her current state.

And then, under the cheers of the crowd, Oscar caved.

He leaned in and kissed Diana.

Maya glanced up at precisely that moment.

And yes, her heart twisted sharply—but only for a second.

She took a deep breath, grabbed her bag, and turned to leave as quietly as she could. But just as she reached the edge of the stage, Diana's voice rang out.

"Maya," she called sweetly, "I'd love for you to say a few words of blessing. This is the final part of the ceremony—you wouldn't refuse me, would you?"

Once upon a time, Maya might've flown into a rage, refused to be humiliated, perhaps even slapped Diana across the face.

But now?

Now, she simply set her bag down and walked up onto the stage.

"Of course," she said calmly. "I'd be happy to give my blessing."

She turned to face the guests.

"I wish Diana and Oscar a lifetime of love and happiness together. May your marriage be filled with joy, and may you be blessed with a beautiful family in the years to come."

She paused. "Is that sufficient?"

A visible shadow crossed Oscar's face. He stepped forward abruptly, grabbing her wrist with a hint of desperation.

"What do you mean by that?" he snapped. "Can you stop being so unreasonable? How many times do I have to explain? This whole wedding—it's just for show. Once it's over, I'm yours. Isn't that enough?"

The emcee stared blankly at the trio onstage, clearly bewildered by the unfolding drama.

But Maya yanked her hand free and took two steps back, her gaze icy.

"Oscar," she said coolly, "what makes you think I'd ever want a man who's already married? You're married to my sister now—so act like it."

Oscar was practically seething with rage. But with so many guests watching, it would be catastrophic to cause a scene. He swallowed it all down, barely.

And right on cue, like a well-rehearsed drama, Diana played her part to perfection. "Maya, don't argue with Oscar anymore, okay? He's really been torn up about all this. While you were gone… he couldn't even sleep some nights because he missed you so much—"

"Enough," Oscar cut in sharply. He reached out to take her hand with a show of sudden tenderness, subtly signaling the emcee to continue the ceremony. "Let's just move on."

Maya, standing a few feet away, saw right through him. She had known Oscar too long, too well—his tells were etched in her memory like lines in stone. He was angry. But unlike the past, she had no energy left to soothe him.

Without another glance, she turned and walked out of the venue.

Back at what used to be their shared residence, Maya sighed. Her father's health had been declining over the past few years, and the household had effectively been taken over by her overly ambitious stepmother. So when she returned to Elminas, she never once considered going back to the Beckham family home.

She had rented a modest place on her own, something quiet and tucked away. But Oscar had insisted—dragged her, really—into staying at his place.

Now, standing amidst half-packed boxes, she began methodically folding her things. The irony wasn't lost on her. Had she known this return would turn into such chaos, she'd have declined Oscar from the start. It had been over a month since she moved in, and she had made this place feel like a home.

It took her a full three hours to sort everything out before moving out.

By the time she lay down on the bed in her new apartment, her body was aching and her mind was drained. Sleep swallowed her whole almost instantly.

In her dreams, she was back in university again.

She remembered those days so clearly—the thrill of youth, the giddy rush of love. They had gone to different universities, but every weekend, Oscar would take the metro all the way to see her, no matter how far. By graduation, the stack of tickets he had collected could rival the thickness of a novel.

She used to crave the sound of his voice teasing her, lifting her out of her studies or her melancholy. Later, when she was ill and alone overseas, it was these memories that kept her afloat. They were her anchor in the storm.

Eventually, she'd met someone new—Charles Barrett. A chance encounter turned ally, turned perhaps something more. With his connections and quiet influence, he helped her find treatment and recover.

And yet… every day, her thoughts drifted back to Oscar.

Charles had always been attentive, always there with the perfect gesture at the perfect moment. She felt flustered by his care, often unsure of how to respond.

For the sake of that bright, youthful love she once had, she had turned him down. Not once. Not twice. But six times.

And after the sixth, she'd made her decision.

"I'll wait for you one last time," Charles had told her, his voice unusually fragile. "If he treats you badly… or if he's already chosen someone else, then come back to me. Try being with me, just once."

Charles had no shortage of admirers. He was handsome and rich. He didn't need to chase anyone. But he chased her.

And maybe that's why she sighed then—because in that moment, she realized they were the same kind of people. Stubborn. Hopelessly so.

She woke with her cheeks damp, the residue of her dreams clinging to her skin. She had cried in her sleep.

Quietly, Maya wiped her tears away and swung her legs off the bed. She thought about making something to eat.

But just as she stepped into the hallway, a strange sound from outside the door made her freeze.

Her stomach dropped.

She had picked this apartment in a rush. The building wasn't exactly top-tier, and the security? Questionable, at best.

Could it be a burglar?

Instinctively, she reached for her phone and typed out a message to Oscar for help.

A moment later, his reply came: [You're really using something like this just to trick me now? I'm with Diana. Stop making a fuss, okay?]

The words hit her like a slap.

She stared at the screen. Since when did she ever joke about something like this?

Maybe he just didn't want to come. Maybe that was all.

She muted his messages and was about to call the police when—

A lazy, familiar voice drifted through the door.

"Maya… you awake?"