Everyone in Sparrowville said that Margaret Chapman was the happiest woman in town. Gavin Hartley showered her with gifts—a sapphire ring, an asteroid after her name—treating her like she was the center of his universe.

Margaret had always believed it, too. Until the day she accidentally discovered the woman he had been hiding in his villa.

For ten years, he had kept her there—his childhood sweetheart. After she lost herself to schizophrenia, she had said, "Margaret is me." And so, for nearly seven years, Gavin had courted Margaret and cherished her, playing out a love story that had never truly been hers.

Margaret's heart crumbled to ash after she found out the truth. She left without looking back, moving to a country thousands of miles away. But she never imagined that Gavin would lose himself to rage, his eyes burning red as he nearly tore Sparrowville apart.

"Where the hell is Margaret?!"

"I promise you, I'll give you my identity."

The autumn wind howled, sweeping up a blanket of fallen leaves. After saying those words, Margaret Chapman crushed the glowing tip of her cigarette, her voice cold and detached.

"You won't forget the deal you made with me, right?"

On the other end of the line, a low chuckle rang out. "Sure, no problem. Now, about my identity—"

"I don't want it," Margaret interrupted, her tone even. "If Gavin asks, just tell him I'm dead—if he asks, that is."

She hung up the phone, and moments later, Gavin Hartley's distinctive Maybach pulled up right in front of her. Behind it, a swarm of press cars followed closely.

The man stepped out, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit and a black trench coat. His sharp eyes softened to an almost unbearable tenderness as they met Margaret's gaze.

He walked over and wrapped his coat around her fragile frame, shielding her from the chill. The crowd gasped in admiration.

"Mr. Hartley really softens up whenever he's with Ms. Chapman. She must be so lucky."

"Do you remember Mr. Hartley's birthday gift from last year? A limited edition sapphire ring worth a fortune. I'm so jealous!"

"That's nothing! Mr. Hartley would give up his life for Ms. Chapman! When her mother was diagnosed with uremia, he immediately went to get tested for a kidney match. The way he looked, he seemed ready to donate a kidney right away!"

"Yeah! Although the match didn't work out, I heard he even traveled to several countries just to find a kidney for her mother!"

-

"Isn't it cold?" Gavin's soft voice pulled Margaret back from her wandering thoughts.

"Weren't you supposed to wait for me at the hospital?"

Gavin swiftly removed his own coat and draped it over her shoulders. He was gentle, tender beyond measure.

Margaret hugged the coat tightly around herself. She wanted to smile, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't.

Because, at that moment, she had come to her senses.

A week ago, she had suddenly realized that Gavin had never truly loved her.

It started when Margaret received a package from overseas that was returned to her with the label "Undelivered".

At that time, Gavin had already been abroad for over a month, searching for a kidney for her mother.

Gavin's birthday was approaching, so Margaret had handmade a knitted sweater and sent it to the hospital in Chesterio he had mentioned. She paid for expedited shipping, but it was returned.

The courier said the recipient didn't exist.

When Margaret couldn't get through to him on the phone, she panicked, thinking something had happened to him. She immediately booked a flight overseas.

Her luck was both good and bad. She found Gavin—but not at the hospital he'd told her about.

Instead, she found him at a nearby psychiatric hospital—carrying another girl in his arms.

The girl was playfully messing with his hair, completely carefree, while Gavin laughed, that same warmth in his eyes.

But Margaret remembered, with clarity, that he never allowed anyone to touch his hair.

When Margaret saw the girl's face, her world turned cold.

The girl and she were nearly identical.

Margaret stood in the freezing wind for an hour before hastily booking the earliest flight back home.

She hired a private investigator. Gavin was keeping the girl well-hidden, and it took Margaret a lot of time and effort to find out who she was.

Her name was Marjorie Page, younger than Gavin by four years. She and Gavin had been childhood sweethearts.

They were the perfect match in everyone's eyes.

But Marjorie had long struggled with bipolar disorder, and at eighteen, she had a complete mental breakdown after a traumatic event.

Margaret couldn't help but think back to the first time she met Gavin—back when he was twenty-five. It was three years after Marjorie's breakdown.

They had met at a bar. Margaret had accidentally spilled beer on his expensive coat. He looked up at her, clearly irritated, but when their eyes met, he froze.

After that, Gavin spent six months wooing her—according to others, he put all his time and effort into loving Margaret.

She became the envy of every girl in Sparrowville.

For years, she had thought that the look he gave her was love at first sight.

But now she realized it was all part of some plan.

-

Margaret walked quickly into the hospital, her steps heavy.

Gavin was still "putting on a show".

He didn't follow her, and so, he didn't notice that, as soon as she turned her back, Margaret's face was already streaked with tears.

She allowed herself to cry just once.

Margaret silently made a vow. Once she was done crying, she'd kick Gavin out of her life and start over.

Margaret's mother was in critical condition, and the doctors had said a kidney transplant needed to happen as soon as possible.

The news Gavin brought her was still bad. "I've checked with several major hospitals, but no luck."

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, a deep frown marking his face. "Let's wait a little longer, see if things change."

Margaret lifted her gaze, meeting Gavin's eyes—and in that moment, without thinking, she asked, "Did you really try looking?"

Gavin froze, his pupils darkening in an instant. Then he gave a dry laugh. "What, you think I haven't tried? Why else do you think I was out of the country for over a month?"

He looked so calm, as if everything were just fine.

But Margaret knew better.

She knew the real reason he had gone overseas. It wasn't for her mother. It was because a genius psychiatrist had recently emerged in Chesterio, and the internet had been buzzing about him. Gavin, who had never given up on Marjorie, had taken her there as soon as possible.

Margaret's heart grew cold. She couldn't stop herself from thinking back on all the times Gavin had used the same excuses to deceive her.

A sharp pain twisted in her stomach, and her face grew pale as she leaned back, forcing a half-smile. "You were gone for over a month. Didn't you think to bring me a gift, or something?"

If he wanted to play pretend, she'd play along. After all, it was only a matter of days now.

Gavin paused, then gently took her hand. "It's in the car."

His brow furrowed slightly when he noticed how pale her face had become, and for a moment, there was a flash of genuine concern in his eyes. "You haven't eaten today?"

"Nope." Margaret lowered her eyes. "I've been running tests with my mom since early this morning. I didn't have time."

Before she could say anything more, Gavin's phone suddenly rang, its ringtone sharp and urgent.

Margaret quickly glanced at the screen.

The image that flashed by was a pearl emoji.

Margaret had never been the type to snoop through someone's phone, but now, she felt a twinge of foolishness for only noticing the contact name at that moment.

Gavin quickly turned away and walked toward the balcony. He answered the phone with a few quick words, then, in a hurry, left the room.

"I'll go grab some chicken soup and bring the gift up," he said, his voice casual.

Margaret leaned back in the cold chair, counting down in her mind.

Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? How long would it take him to return?

The pain in her stomach worsened, and sweat broke out across her forehead. Still, she couldn't stop herself from leaning toward the window, peering down below.

She waited for what felt like an eternity.

But no matter how long she waited, Gavin never came back.

He hadn't planned on returning at all.

A knock on the door startled her. A moment later, the assistant walked in, holding a bowl of chicken soup in one hand and a bottle of Burberry perfume in the other.

"Ms. Chapman," the assistant said softly, "Mr. Hartley had to attend an urgent meeting and couldn't make it up."

He handed her the perfume. "This is the gift he got for you."

Margaret stared blankly at the bottle, a soft "Thanks" slipping from her lips as she took it from him.

Suddenly, she stood up, pushing past the assistant and rushing toward the stairs.

Margaret saw her again.

Marjorie.

She lived in a villa on the south side of the city, a place isolated from the world. Apart from the few people who took care of her and Gavin, no one ever came by.

But Margaret had been here before. She had studied the villa completely.

She knew where people could be concealed.

Marjorie looked surprisingly well, wearing a long white dress and draped in Gavin's coat.

Margaret felt like a thief.

She had rushed out in such a hurry earlier, running so fast that she lost one of her shoes. Now, barefoot, she stood in the muddy earth, feeling the cold sting of dirt and the tiny crawl of ants against the soles of her feet.

But she wasn't frightened. She was numb, standing still as she watched Gavin and Marjorie's happiness unfold.

Marjorie was barefoot too, but she had her feet resting on Gavin's legs, her pale toes curling up.

She smiled brightly and asked, "Gavin, where's the gift you promised me?"

Gavin pulled out a Burberry handbag.

"Here you go. Do you like it?" Gavin asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

Marjorie eagerly took the bag, inspecting it, then pouted. "You didn't buy me a fake one, did you? This bag comes with a free perfume! Where is it?"

Margaret froze. She suddenly realized—Gavin hadn't brought her any gift at all.

That bottle of perfume? It was the freebie from Marjorie's gift.

Gavin paused, then shrugged. "I figured it wasn't worth anything, so I tossed it in the trash."

The sharp pain in Margaret's stomach grew, and she slowly sank to her knees. Beads of sweat trickled down her face as her vision blurred.

She had promised herself she wouldn't cry…

But here she was, unable to help herself.

She wiped away the tears that had fallen from her eyes, her body trembling.

The man she thought would always protect her, the one she believed only cared for her… He'd only ever seen her as a trash bin.

Margaret had thought she would be above it, that she could handle the heartbreak with grace. But she was wrong.

Once you've loved with everything you've got, you can't just let go like it's nothing.

And that was why Gavin couldn't just let go of Marjorie.

He had protected her for so many years, kept her within his sights, held on stubbornly.

Marjorie took the bag from Gavin, excitedly slinging it over her shoulder.

"You're the best, Gavin," she beamed. "You always remember what I like. Do you remember when we got engaged? You had yellow roses, and I was carrying my Burberry bag. And you also gave me…

"No, wait…" Marjorie's voice suddenly faltered, and her eyes filled with panic. "You didn't propose to me, did you? Gavin, why haven't you proposed to me? Don't you love me anymore?

"Gavin, we're not married yet, are we?"

Marjorie dropped to the floor suddenly, screaming as she struggled to get up.

Gavin rushed to pull her into his arms, but she slapped him several times in a frenzy.

"Why won't you marry her?!" Marjorie screamed, throwing a picture frame to the ground with a crash.

In an instant, shards of glass flew across the room, cutting Gavin's arms in several places.

A photo, spinning wildly, floated out from the wreckage of the frame.

Margaret could see it clearly.

It was a photo of her and Gavin, taken the first time she had appeared in public as his fiancée.

That day, she had been wearing a Burberry crossbody bag.

"Shh, it's okay." Gavin reached for her, letting Marjorie bite down on his arm, nearly tearing a chunk of flesh from him. "Calm down. I promised you I'd marry her, so I will…"

Margaret couldn't bear to watch any longer.

She turned and fled, almost stumbling in her rush to leave.

Barefoot, she walked over the cold concrete, the night stretching endlessly into the early morning.

And no one even noticed.