On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.'

I sent in my study abroad application without a word.

At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection.

A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married."

Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too."

So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared.

And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me.

Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red.

"Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

Day ten of my cold war with Barry Saun also happened to be our third dating anniversary.

Then I saw it—his new post. Him and Lyla Bianca, tangled in a kiss, his eyes full of devotion.

And just like that, the weight on my chest lifted.

I quietly submitted my study abroad application.

[Submission Successful.]

My stomach twisted, emotions all over the place.

Right then, my friend showed up with my custom cake. She pressed a hand to my forehead, relieved my fever was gone—until she spotted my application. Her eyes went wide.

"Barry finally agreed to go with you? I told you—he loves you! You guys are getting married?"

I shook my head.

Meeting her startled gaze, I calmly replied, "I only submitted my own. I'm going alone."

She froze, staring at me like I'd grown a second head.

Couldn't blame her. For three years, my whole world revolved around Barry. If he didn't want to do something, I wouldn't even consider it.

My gaze dropped to the cake in her hands. After a beat, I took it.

Barry and I needed closure.

As I grabbed my coat, my friend sighed. "Wear something warmer. You just got over a cold—don't make yourself sick again."

I smiled and nodded, pulling my coat tighter before heading to his dorm.

Halfway there, a little boy ran past, giggling—then bam, straight into me.

I stumbled. The cake flew from my hands, hit the ground, and the lid popped open.

The kid froze, pulled a goofy face, then bolted into the crowd.

I stared at the mess, a lump rising in my throat.

Almost without thinking, I reached for my phone to call Barry.

But then—I saw him.

And he wasn't alone.

A girl in a flowing white dress stood beside him. She looked a little like me, but softer, more delicate.

Lyla.

She held an ice cream cone, cheeks flushed as Barry leaned in, whispering something. She dipped her head shyly.

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he kissed her forehead.

Everything around me blurred.

They melted into the crowd, but the sharp sting in my chest stayed.

A tear slid down, landing on the ruined cake.

People glanced my way as I crouched down, hands shaking, trying to scoop the broken pieces back into the box.

Someone finally spoke. "Miss, that cake's trashed. If you really like it, just buy another one."

A few days later, I saw Barry again—this time at our graduation party.

From the doorway of a private room, I watched as he held Lyla close, his eyes full of affection.

His friends circled them, throwing out compliments. Perfect couple. Meant to be.

Barry's smile deepened.

After a while, Lyla got up to freshen up.

I turned away fast, blending into the crowd like I was just passing by.

Inside the room, after she left, someone hesitated.

"Lyla's back... What about Amelia? She loves you. Aren't you two about to get married?"

Barry smirked. "Love? She was just a stand-in. Haven't you noticed how much Amelia looks like Lyla? Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too."

A cold chill crawled down my spine. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. The sharp sting kept me grounded.

Laughter rippled through the room. Then another voice chimed in.

"Amelia's coming too, isn't she? Barry, you've got it good—both in your hands. But aren't you worried she'll see another chick and freak out?"

Barry chuckled, swearing under his breath. "Another chick? Lyla's my fiancée. Show some respect.

"Amelia won't make a fuss. She loves me. For three years, she's put me first in everything. Ten days ago, a university abroad sent her an acceptance letter, but she gave it up for me.

"She wanted me to go with her. I was planning to—since it would've put me closer to Lyla. But then Lyla came back to Claustria... for me."

Barry's handsome face dimmed slightly.

My heart? Already numb.

Suddenly, I remembered. Ten days ago—Barry's furious accusations. How he snapped that I never considered him, never talked things through.

Didn't matter how much I explained. That my family arranged it. That I had no say. He wouldn't listen. Just turned and left, leaving me alone on that empty street.

Turns out, it was all an excuse.

He had known everything.

And I was the idiot who actually believed he was upset. That I had done something wrong. I even dragged myself out, sick, just to see him.

Now, surrounded by his friends, he looked softer, more tender than I'd ever seen him. And it was all for her.

Barry took a slow drag from his cigarette. "This time, I'm not letting Lyla go again.

"One of you call Amelia. Tell her not to come. Just say I'm busy—she'll go home and make soup for me. She cares. She'll listen.

"And don't mention Amelia around Lyla. I don't want her to misunderstand."

Seeing this side of Barry—so unfamiliar, so cold—I suddenly thought back to three years ago.

The first time we met, he was all nerves, blushing as he tugged at his shirt. "Hey, can I add you?"

Our friends egged him on. My face burned too.

Under Barry's relentless pursuit, I fell for that sweet, awkward boy.

His family didn't have much, and my parents weren't thrilled. When Barry found out, he didn't get mad. He just held my hands, gentle as ever. "Mr. and Mrs. Abel just want the best for you. They're looking out for you. And honestly? I can't give you much right now."

So he tried harder. Treated me like I was everything. Rain or shine, he brought me breakfast. Worked multiple jobs just to buy me handbags and jewelry.

One night, we were walking past a dimly lit alley when a group of drunk thugs spotted me. Their eyes lit up.

Barry's grip on me tightened. He tried to steer us away, but they blocked our path.

One sneered. "They say couples stick together through thick and thin, but when things go south? People only look out for themselves. Relax, I just wanna chat with the lady."

Barry didn't flinch. Didn't let go.

He shoved me behind him, taking their punches and kicks.

I sobbed, begging him to run.

But he just looked at me, eyes steady. "I won't let go of you..."

By the time the cops showed up, Barry was already unconscious—still holding onto me.

After that, my parents finally accepted him.

Barry was always good to me. But his eyes? They were never clouded. Never lost in the moment.

Even in our most intimate moments, there was this eerie calmness.

He'd gently push me away. "Amelia, let's wait until we're married. There's no rush."

Back then, I thought he was just disciplined. A gentleman with principles.

But then I overheard him talking to his friend about Lyla. I saw the way his eyes softened—how real love looked on him.

His friend asked him something, and Barry's voice, laced with quiet disdain, cut through the air.

"I never touched Amelia. In this life, I've only ever had one woman—Lyla.

"Amelia looks a lot like Lyla. I made her grow her hair out, dress like her... But no matter how much she resembles Lyla, I had to stay faithful to the real one."

Lyla, with her long, dark hair and flowy white dresses.

No wonder Barry only ever bought me light-colored gowns.

No wonder, whenever he tucked my hair behind my ear, his eyes were full of regret. Not love.

And just like that, I finally got it.

Barry never loved me. He just loved that I reminded him of her.