On the way home, my mind was flooded with images of them lost in conversation, wrapped up in their own universe. It was becoming painfully obvious to me that Princeton and I were like two parallel lines destined never to meet.

When I got back that evening, he presented me with a gift—an extravagant sports car that cost more than a house. The car was sleek and incredibly pricey, yet I never had any interest in cars. He never really knew what I liked. I understood he was consumed by guilt, and I chose not to confront him about it. I swallowed the lump in my throat, pretending to be thrilled, smiling as I took the car keys. "Let's have dinner," I suggested.

Seeing the dinner table set with dishes he loved seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders. Later that night, after he had showered, he lay down beside me, inching closer until he pulled me into a hug. In the past, this would have made me happy, but now all I felt was a hollow chill.

His heavy breathing against my back kept me wide awake. Only after he slipped into sleep did I open my eyes. I turned to look at him as he slept, observing him for a long time. I couldn't stop wondering if he ever truly loved me. Had he ever really loved me?

Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head, snapping me back to reality—I was dying. It's terrifying how obsessions can cling to us, even as life is slipping away, leaving me to ponder, even now, whether he loved me or not.

The pain heightened my awareness, and memories flashed through my mind like scenes from an old movie.

My mother, Bethany, raised me on her own, carrying the weight of the world without help. I grew up never knowing my father, and any attempt to ask about him only ignited anger in her eyes, teaching me quickly to keep my curiosity at bay. Eventually, she remarried, leaving me in my grandmother's care. I couldn't fault her; everyone deserves a chance at happiness.

When I was eight, my grandmother died after a long illness, leaving me truly alone. I threw myself into my studies, hoping to change my destiny, but middle school brought its own challenges—bullying. On my birthday, they cornered me on the school rooftop, hitting and kicking me.

That's when Princeton showed up. As the heir to the Foster Corporation, he was someone they wouldn't dare mess with. With his help, I got through my school years, and his presence lit up my dark world like sunshine. I fell for him, but the gulf between our lives was wide. So, I buried these feelings deep inside.

I chased the light he represented, step by step, and finally got accepted into the same university. But by then, I realized it was too late. He had already found the love of his life, Zuri Morgan, who, ironically enough, was my half-sister.

On a crisp Thanksgiving evening, I stood outside the Morgan estate, watching the warm glow from the windows where they gathered for dinner. Inside, the table was spread with roast turkey, mashed potatoes, and honey-spiced cake. I caught a glimpse of Zuri laughing with Princeton, and for a moment, I felt like an outsider gazing in on a scene from a period drama, with Zuri wearing a delicate lace dress that seemed from another time.

In that moment, I understood the world I yearned for was not mine to claim. I turned away, holding a cup of steaming coffee for warmth, and made my way back to my small apartment, my mind swirling with memories of my grandmother telling me stories of the Alps, a place she had always dreamed of visiting.

As I walked, I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened WhatsApp to send a message to my mother. Despite everything, I knew she cared, and sometimes that was enough to keep pushing forward.

I always envied Zuri Morgan. Harvard adored her, and my mom was fond of her too. It felt like no one ever loved me. Zuri was the apple of everyone’s eye, while I was just a shadow, easily ignored. Everything I fought hard for came naturally to her. After all these years, Mom still looked elegant. I watched her from a distance, not expecting to see her and Harvard with Zuri.

They walked side by side, looking like the perfect couple. Whatever they were talking about made Harvard, normally reserved around me, smile warmly at her. I stood there, stunned by the softness in his gaze. Then Mom joined them with a smile, and the three of them headed off together.

Before I knew it, they were already far away. That's when I noticed Mom had left her purse on the seat. I slipped my savings ledger inside—a compilation of everything I had saved over the years. Given my circumstances, the money was of little use to me. I caught up with them and said with a polite smile, “Hey, you left your purse.”

When Mom retrieved the purse, she didn’t recognize me. It had been over ten years since we last saw each other, and to her, I was just another face in the crowd. The moment I appeared, Harvard’s face went white. He couldn’t bring himself to speak or even meet my eyes. Zuri watched me warily, knowing I could expose our past. She had known my identity all along and had orchestrated bullying against me during school.

I kept my composure, pretending not to recognize them, and walked away silently.