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?"

It was Charles.

Maya visibly relaxed the moment she saw him. "What are you doing here? I never told you where I moved."

Charles gave a low chuckle. "Since when have I ever needed you to tell me what I want to know? If I hadn't shown up, someone might've bullied you to death already."

Both Charles and Maya hailed from Conlay City—though their stations in life couldn't have been more different.

The Barrett family was not only the wealthiest in Conlay City but a political dynasty with fingers in every pie imaginable. Charles, as the heir to this empire, could uncover the secrets of royalty if he wanted. Locating one woman was child's play.

Maya pressed her lips together, equal parts annoyed and touched. After a quick tidy-up, she followed him out to the living room and stopped short.

There he was, Charles, the devilishly handsome princeling of Conlay City, wearing a frilly pink apron with cartoon bunnies, carrying a steaming tray of food. It was such a ridiculous mismatch that Maya, despite her turbulent mood, let out a surprised laugh.

"Tell me you made the ribs I like? I'm starving." She flopped unceremoniously into a chair at the dining table, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Abroad, she'd had the pleasure of experiencing Charles's cooking firsthand.

The first time she tasted the ribs he made, she'd nearly cried.

"You're supposed to be a pampered heir. How do you even know how to cook like this?"

Charles winked. "If I told you I learned just to take care of you, would that move you to tears?"

Back then, she'd dismissed his words as some elaborate joke—until she once caught him hunched over a tablet, watching amateur cooking tutorials and scribbling notes like a diligent student. He had spent hours attempting new recipes just to make meals she might like.

"I didn't manage to get ribs today, so you'll have to settle for what I could put together," he said apologetically.

Maya nodded and dug in, clearly disappointed but too hungry to care.

Charles sat beside her, watching the way she devoured the food, feeling a pang in his chest. Just a month away, and his little foodie had wasted away.

She was thinner. Paler. And exhausted in a way that no amount of sleep could fix.

And still, she pined for Oscar.

Charles's jaw tensed. The reports he'd received from his well-placed sources had already told him everything. Oscar had let Diana pull her usual petty tricks, completely blind to the manipulation right in front of him—and worse, he'd allowed those tricks to hurt Maya.

The moment Charles heard, he'd abandoned all his appointments, left his overseas meetings hanging, and flown straight back to Conlay City. Maya needed him—damn the consequences.

And she was such a fool. Just before returning home, she had subtly, almost pitifully, hinted that Charles should consider investing in Oscar's business.

But Charles had already done his research. Oscar's company was crumbling from the inside out—glossy on the surface, hollow within. It was but a failing empire clinging to past glories.

"Charles, I'm still hungry," Maya said, crumbs clinging to the corners of her lips.

Charles chuckled and leaned in, wiping them away. She froze, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face before she quickly turned away.

"I can do it myself," she mumbled, embarrassed.

Her feelings for Oscar might have withered, but she didn't want things with Charles to move too quickly. It felt… like cheating. Like using him as a backup plan. And she wasn't that kind of girl.

Charles didn't mind. Unbothered, he got up to head back to the kitchen, planning to cook something else for her.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

A familiar voice came crashing through the door—loud, frustrated, self-righteous.

"Maya, why didn't you tell me you were moving? What kind of tantrum is this? What did I do wrong this time? Four years ago, you ghosted me. Disappeared without a word. And now you're doing it again? I'm human too, you know! Do you even care how I feel?"

Oscar sounded like a man utterly unaware of the gravity of his own sins. In his mind, all he'd done was help Diana fulfill a harmless little dream. Surely that didn't warrant Maya's dramatic exit?

Yes, he'd snapped at her a little. Said some things in anger. But right after that, he'd panicked and rushed home to check on her.

Instead, he was greeted by an empty apartment and a single note on the table:

"Goodbye."

Cursing under his breath, Oscar had gotten in his car and driven like a madman, determined to find her.