"Martin, you're getting married within two weeks. What are you going to do about the woman outside?"

Stacy Lynd paused at those words, even as a man answered indifferently, "Just keep your mouth shut. She won't know if none of you breathe a word."

Behind the door, Stacy's tears blurred her vision.

Never did she expect that the man she loved for years was going to treat her like a side chick.

At that point, she truly understood, and went on to burn her accounts.

It was not until afterward that Stacy realized she wasn't the one who couldn't get over that doomed relationship.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone. "Once you burn your ID, the person named Stacy Lynd will cease to exist, and the people who know you will never be able to find you again."

Never be able to find her again? That was exactly what she wanted.

Stacy chuckled bitterly once, before her smile faded and she spoke with determination, "Yes, I'm sure."

Though surprised for a moment by her resolve, the voice soon replied, "Very well, Miss Lynd—everything will be done within two weeks, and you will be provided with a new identity. We wish you all the best in your brand new life."

Brand new life? Once could only hope.

Hanging up, Stacy rose to her feet and walked with her legs—numbed from crouching, and took a cab home.

After taking a bath, she was going to lie in bed when Martin Spencer entered, his body pungent with alcohol.

He found Stacy with pinpoint precision, reaching out and gathering her in his arms as he breathed sweetly, "Why didn't you pick me up, dear? I've been waiting… You smell so good…"

As he spoke, he nuzzled her neck while his hands began to get unruly.

Stacy's thoughts went adrift, seeing how he seemed to know his way around her.

She remembered how he chased her around tirelessly for three years to prove his sincerity.

And when Martin's mother expressed her disapproval, he held her tightly as he assured her, "It doesn't matter if my mom stops us from getting married. I won't marry at all for the rest of my life, and we will stay together forever. Don't worry—I won't marry anyone else."

As Martin's mother couldn't hurt Stacy, she instead had Martin brought home by force and arranged his marriage.

He was absolutely pale and haggard when he made it out, and it was much later when Stacy found out that he had rebelled against his mother by refusing to eat.

And since then, Stacy never backed down no matter how Martin's mother threatened her, as she knew she wasn't fighting alone.

But now, she was glad she had overheard Martin's conversation.

Otherwise, how long would she have allowed Martin to keep her in the dark? To the day of his wedding, or when she was condemned as the other woman?

Fighting back the bitterness in her, she gently shrugged off his embrace and shook her head. "I'm a little tired."

Martin did not force her, even gently helping her to bed and hugging her from behind. "Then get some proper sleep. I could feel you losing weight."

Stacy pretended to sleep and didn't respond.

-

Early next morning, Stacy stirred to find Martin standing in front of the closet, changing clothes.

Hearing moving, he turned, went over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Morning, dear—it's the new year. Get changed now, and let's head outside."

And with those words, he headed downstairs without waiting to listen to what she would say.

After Stacy got changed and headed downstairs, the cook immediately greeted her when she saw her, "Good morning, Mrs. Spencer. Let me get you your soup."

Even though they weren't married, Martin had ordered all the servants to address Stacy as Mrs. Spencer anyway because there would only be one.

And yet, he would be legitimately married to another woman in just two weeks, and it was the end of Stacy's tenure as the nominal Mrs. Spencer.

She stayed downcast as she smiled self-deprecatingly, and went for breakfast.

Afterward, Martin sent away the chauffeur and got in the driver's seat, saying that he would take Stacy outside on his own.

They went around the city, going to places like the aquarium and having lunch at a garden restaurant.

Along the way, he was exceedingly observant, stopping to let her rest as soon as she showed a hint of fatigue.

And as evening arrived and she thought they'd head home, he instead drove up a hill.

Knowing that she was confused, he explained, "You said fireworks would be especially beautiful when viewed from above. Why don't we do that now?"

Stacy remembered that it was merely an offhand suggestion while watching some videos on the phone, and was surprised Martin remembered it.

And Martin didn't mind that she wasn't responding either. He could tell that she was not in the mood, and kept droning on to cheer her up.

He was usually a man of few words, but he seemed to never stop talking around Stacy.

They arrived at the peak in thirty minutes, and it was a beautiful view up there tonight.

It was the last hour of the year when Martin's phone started vibrating, and he glanced warily at Stacy when he saw who had texted him.

Seeing that she was keeping her eyes fixed below the hill, he sighed in relief ever so subtly before quickly replying to the text.

At the same time, Stacy turned ever so slightly to peek at his phone, and saw the text that read: [I feel so lonely spending New Year's Eve alone. Can't you come spend some time with me?]

Stacy watched as Martin replied: [Be good.]

The reply was: [Pretty please? I'm scared of the dark. I need you tonight.]

Martin fought for himself for a couple of seconds before replying: [Sit tight.]

Stacy quickly turned away before he looked up, and said, "Sorry, Stacy. Something came up at work and I can't stay."

"Yeah," she murmured calmly, her expression impassive but her fingers clenching on top of the car hood.

And in under a minute, Martin sped off into the distance, leaving in such a hurry that he had forgotten he was driving the only car, or to arrange a way for her to head home.

There were no taxis coming up the hill either, and the thought left Stacy's heart aching and tightening as if seized by a giant hand.

On the hour, the fireworks were at once grand and dazzling.

It really was beautiful, and Stacy knew that Martin had prepared it for her.

And yet, he was by another woman's side at this moment.

As if to prove her right, her phone vibrated in her palm.

Seeing the unfamiliar number, Stacy knew right away that it was Rachel Fox.

After all, she had sent Stacy a photo of herself in Martin's arms, who was looking downward at her and smiling affectionately, and they were clearly at Rachel's place.

On top of that, the photo was captioned: We're getting married soon because Martin finds you worthless. Know your place and make yourself scarce already.

Stacy's fingers clenched around her phone as the words were knives that cut into every fiber of her being, leaving her unable to breathe.

Soon, the fireworks show had ended, leaving the peak at once dark and silent.

Stacy's phone turned off on its own from the cold, and without any light, she had to walk down the hill with the faint moonlight.

It started to snow, and she knew that if she stayed above the hill, they would find her dead the next morning.

She had no choice but to keep heading down the hill, a chill creeping up her spine as her fear of the dark engulfed her.

She was afraid of the dark and the paranormal too, but Martin seemed to have forgotten about that.

Even so, she kept trudging on despite her fear and the freezing cold, and felt totally numb by the time she arrived at a place she could get a taxi four hours later.

By the time she reached home, her face was deathly pale and her lips blackened.

It was pitch-black in there too—the servants had left, while Martin was busy keeping his fiancee company.

Stacy pursed her numb lips then. After all, was this not the natural course of things?

She was nothing, and Martin had every reason to stay with his fiancee.

-

Martin shook her awake the next day, and Stacy found herself staring at his worried face as she opened her groggy eyes.

"You have a fever. Let's get you to the hospital," he said.

Stacy could vaguely feel him carrying her into his car, although only one thing came to mind: what was he doing here, instead of staying with his fiancee?

Still, when her mind cleared and she saw the bright sun outside the car, she realized that it was already noon the next day.

In the car, Martin held on to her tightly, even carrying her to the ER.

He stood at her side as she was too dizzy to sit straight, holding her upright in a rather strange position.

Through it all, Martin appeared very worried and kept asking what he had to be worried about.

While giving her IV, the doctor smiled at her, "You have a really good boyfriend. You should really cherish him."

But at that instant, Stacy picked up Rachel's scent that was clinging to Martin's clothes.

Although Stacy smiled at the doctor, it was a smile of faint bitterness.

A good boyfriend? As in the one who just left his fiancee's bed?

Nonetheless, Martin was still carrying her here and there, refusing to let her walk at all.

He even kept her head in his embrace as she was given an injection, assuring her endlessly like she was a child, "It's alright. It just hurts for a second."

But it was his fault she was in the state in the first place, and she wanted to say that she was fine—because this pain was far less from the terror she had gone through last night.

Hence, she didn't argue and let Martin keep up his perfect boyfriend act. No one would know otherwise that he actually had another woman for a fiancee, and Stacy herself was almost fooled too.

As she lay on her sickbed, he tucked her in, asking if it hurt anyway.

She quietly shook her head and closed her eyes, refusing to speak further.

Eventually, she dozed off, and Martin wasn't around by the time she woke up.

She pulled out the IV needle which was used up, and headed to the restroom.

When she was done and left, she found Martin leaving the gynecologist's office, his hand around Rachel's waist.

She hid in the restroom, but overheard them anyway.

"You're a mother now," Martin said mildly. "The fetus is two months old, so quit being such a child."

Rachel tugged on his arm playfully. "Then you have to keep both eyes on me. The baby needs Daddy, see?"

Martin flashed a loving smile. "Alright. And don't worry about the wedding, or you'll tire out yourself and the baby…"

Their voices faded into the distance, but Stacy remained where she was as if frozen stiff.

By the time she came to her senses, she had her hand pressed on her own chest as she arched her back, wheezing from the heartache while large drops of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Martin and Rachel were already having a baby—they had already been together since two months ago, and who knew how long Rachel would be kept in the dark if not for the conversation she had overheard yesterday.

Laughing bitterly and wiping the tears off her cheeks, all Stacy felt was a chill. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at a ring.

Martin had been down on one knee when he gave Stacy that ring, looking up at her face nervously as he spoke with a crack in his voice, "Will you be my girlfriend for the rest of our lives? I really love you, and I won't marry anyone but you."

It was such a vague promise that anyone slightly rational would be skeptical of, but Stacy had bought it.

And how moved she had been then, was exactly how devastated she was now.

Collecting herself, Stacy left, her fingers now empty save for the faint traces on her ring finger, while that clearly expensive ring lay on the bathroom sink.

It was not until 10pm when Martin rushed into the room, and immediately dropped on one knee in front of her as she sat on the couch.

Before she realized what was happening, he pulled out the ring she had left and gently slid it on her finger, looking into her eyes lovingly, "Didn't you know you lost this? How could you be so clumsy? Don't ever lose it again—it's proof of our marriage."

Despite that loving gaze, Stacy couldn't find the affection she felt years ago.

In fact, any feelings she had were corrupted irreversibly.

Staring fixedly into Martin's eyes, she avoided his question and asked, "Where were you today?"

She sharply noticed the flicker of guilt in his eyes, but that lasted for just a second before he answered, "Had to go to the office, and you were gone when I returned to the hospital."

All Stacy felt was endless weariness from his response, and quietly turned back to the tv.

Martin thought she was just upset he didn't report where he had gone, and sweet-talked her.

"Why don't we go horse riding tomorrow?" He asked. "You've always wanted to do that, right? And the doctor was just suggesting that you need the sun."

Stacy didn't refuse, as she was too tired to deal with his web of lies, and keenly waited for the day when she would finally leave.

-

When they arrived at the stables the next day, Stacy noticed that Rachel was there too.

It was the first time they met, and only ever heard about others speaking about her.

She carried a strong presence and was obviously an heiress, the perfect match to Martin if they stood side by side.

Even as Stacy felt pained, she thought that Martin wouldn't bother with her now that the real owner showed up.

To her surprise, Martin kept his arms firmly around her as if he never saw Rachel, let alone look her way.

"Let me teach you how to ride a horse," he said, and picked a docile horse for her, holding her hand as he taught her everything.

Stacy really was interested in learning horseback riding, and slowly forgot about her jealousy.

When she said she was tired after thirty minutes, Martin helped her off her horse.

Just two minutes after she sat down, however, she noticed that Rachel was gone.

And another two minutes later, Martin told her, "Just sit tight. I'll get you a drink."

Stacy was just feeling something from his meticulous attention, but her heart abruptly turned placid again.

As Martin left, she followed him quietly to a quiet place, where Rachel was already waiting and immediately threw herself into his arms.

Although Martin caught her, he was frowning, "I told you—we have to pretend we don't know each other before we get married. Our families will be affected if Stacy causes a fuss."

He had indeed said that before, but Rachel simply pouted, "I missed you. And it's not like she knows."

She was naturally talking about Stacy, who watched as Martin's creased brow smoothing out like he couldn't do anything about Rachel.

Stacy watched as they then kissed, their tongues intertwining.

Her heart felt like it was cut again, and she clenched her knuckles, not knowing that her nails were cutting into her own palm.

She listened to their gasps and moans, but eventually stopped hurting and left, returning to the lounge while feeling light-headed.

It was not until thirty minutes later that Martin returned with their drinks, putting hers in front of her while apologizing, "Sorry, darling—had to take a call. Didn't keep you waiting, did I?"

Being called darling left Stacy remembering the sight of him swapping spit with Rachel and she felt sick to the stomach right then.

As she quickly drank to quell her impulse to retch, Martin sharply noticed her palm and took her hand, utterly worried as he asked, "What's this?"

It was only then that Stacy noticed her palm, but was merely surprised for a moment until she gently pulled her hand out of his grasp, saying nonchalantly, "Must have been holding the lead rope too tightly."

Still, Martin was worried and insisted on taking her to treat the minor injury.

Stacy didn't want him to touch her, however, and freed herself from his grasp again. "No. I'm going back to the horse."

When Martin started after her, she said, "I want to ride alone."

He stopped following her at that.