I was dumb and in love, so I made a mistake I should not have ever made. I followed him out.

I should not have grabbed my keys out of my purse with trembling hands, rushed to my car and driven blindly across the city following my fiancée with a shattered heart and a vision now clouded by humiliation.

But love made people foolish, and I was in love. And right then, as I drove, I struggled to bite back my falling tears.

Evan's car finally screeched to a stop in front of an apartment complex. I parked my car a couple of meters away from his, then, stepped out just in time to see him sprint away from the car while shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Lyra,"

Panic ripped his voice apart as his shout practically traveled through the street,

My stomach twisted, but I tore my keys away from the ignition, slammed my door close and followed after him, almost tripping over in my bid to catch up.

I reached the parking lot, and froze.

Two large men in masks stood in the middle of the parking lot. They were big, furious and armed with long metal pipes. Lyra stood behind them, one hand wrapped around a belly that was swollen, and another hand wrapped around the hand of a friend.

This felt like the perfect visage of a robbery in progress, but something was off.

I knew about images, and there was really something off about this one.

Lyra wasn't afraid, her face might have been frozen in a stiff and fearful expression, but her eyes practically screamed delight.

And the moment they shifted over to me, she smirked.

And that was when I realized she knew exactly who I was.

Evan knew I was behind him, but not once did he glance back at me. With a lunge, he placed himself between Lyra and the two men.

"Stay behind me," he barked in righteous anger, his fingers balled into a fist.

One of the men swung first, obviously not caring for any bravado from Evan. I froze, my breath catching, and I screamed,

"Evan!"

He didn't look back, though he did react.

With a grunt, he ducked under the swinging metal pipe and punched the man right on his jaw. A crack split the air, and it made my stomach churn.

The second man charged and attacked with his own pipe. Evan blocked it, this time, using his forearm. He gritted his teeth, grunted in pain, then retaliated with a kick that sent the man stumbling back and the pipe falling out of his hands.

Lyra watched all of this happen with her hand over her mouth as she sobbed, but her eyes remained dry.

Her friend whispered something to her ears, Lyra turned to face me, then, chuckled.

Rage rushed through me. Lyra was laughing while my fiancée bled for her.

And that thought sent shivers running down my spine. I stood there, frozen stiff as I suffocated on what could only be called heartbreak.

The other guy caught Evan off guard, held him by the collar and slammed him so hard on the ground that the pavement almost broke.

I gasped, my muscles clenched as I prepared to run forward, to help -

Only for someone to shove me from behind, hard.

I tried to keep my balance, but I couldn't. I fell slamming hard against the ground as I grunted in pain.

"Know your place, bitch." a female voice sneered,

My palms scraped the pavement, and pain shot up my body as I sat up, still in disbelief.

I cried out, I knew I had, and I was sure Evan had heard me, but he didn't care.

I tried to push myself up, but my elbows trembled, still scarred from the shock of the push. And all I could do was watch as Evan bared his teeth and rage pulsed off him.

With a roar, he shrugged the man off his back and delivered a brutal punch to his ribs, grounding him.

He fought like a man possessed.

Not for his fiancée, not for the woman he was about to spend the rest of his life with.

No, he fought for her, for his ex, for Lyra.

Within seconds, the two men were limping away, defeated.

Evan staggered, he wiped his blood off his cheek with his white sleeves, then slowly turned until our eyes met, and he spotted me on the floor, slightly bleeding.

Shock flickered across his face, and for a moment, I believed I spotted concern.

"Vera," he whispered under his breath,

I swallowed hard, my heart clenching as I felt the power his voice still had over me.

I wanted him to run to me, lift me up, and tell me I was all right.

But he took only one step towards me, before Lyra let out a loud dramatic cry and clutched her stomach.

"A-ah!" she screamed, "Help me, Evan, I think something's wrong."

Evan's head whipped towards her, and once again, without hesitation and without a backward glance at me, he ran to her.

I felt something within me fracture at that sight, it was sharp and final.

Lyra's friend smirked at me, then mouthed, "He knows who really matters, and that's not you."

Evan cradled Lyra's head to his chest, touching her slowly as he lifted her up and began to take her towards his car.

My scrapped palms still throbbed,

My knees still stung,

And my heart felt like it was bleeding onto the pavement too, as I watched my fiancée look at another woman as though she was the only thing that mattered in the world to him.

"Evan!" I called out as tears began to fall from my eyes,

He didn't hear me, didn't even glance back at me.

I cried,

But these were not sad, hollow tears, these were tears that fell when the truth finally sunk in.

I laid there on the ground for what felt like minutes before a sharp sound broke through my daze, it was footsteps.

Loud, heavy footsteps.

"What should we do?" A distinct voice called out, "We were not able to capture the bitch. How else are we supposed to threaten Evan?"

I froze, it was the two guys and they were back.

My eyes widened as I laid still, trying to keep myself hidden.

I failed,

"Wait, isn't that his fiancée?" One of them gasped, shock spilling into his tone.

"It really is her," The other replied, "Take her."

This time, I could no longer stay still.

With a grunt, I pushed myself to my feet, stifled my wince and immediately tried to run away.

"Catch her," the first guy shouted, and my stomach dropped as I heard the rapidly approaching sound of their footsteps.

I fumbled through my purse for my phone, and immediately called my only emergency number. It rang once.

Then, "You know I'm busy," Evan's voice echoed from the other end of the line, "Lyra is in critical condition,"

My lips parted, but before I could say anything, he had already hung up.

For a moment, I stood in disbelief, my heart pounded faster than ever as I struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.

I only started moving when the sound of their footsteps became close.

My car was parked about a hundred feet away from me, it was close, but it was an open field, and I was far too weak to run that distance.

I glanced around, sweat dripping down my brows as I looked for any place I could hide.

There – I spotted a pile of trash and immediately rushed towards it. I just managed to jump inside and hide myself when the guys rushed past me.

I closed my mouth shut and held my breath. The stink was horrendous, but it was either that or getting kidnapped, and I didn't want to lose my life.

I waited there for thirty minutes before I was sure that the guys had left.

By the time I stepped out, the night was darker, and I could hardly see my own feet.

I should have been scared, but all I could feel was rage, and the cold, empty realization that Evan had left me.

I pushed myself up to my feet, my body trembling.

And the realization hit me at that moment.

Evan no longer loved me. And as I stood there, broken, scrapped and rendered all but invisible.

I realized that tonight wasn't the night I lost him, it was just the night I could finally admit that he was gone.

With a sigh, I turned back to my car and began to walk towards it.

Intent on driving back home, and packing out.

The next few minutes were a blur.

I don't remember driving home, nor do I remember how my trembling hands were able to clench the steering wheel, or how my legs even managed to reach the pedal.

The only thing I could recall was Evan calling Lyra's voice, but not mine.

By the time I drove into the parking lot at our... no, his home, my chest felt hollow. It was like Evan had scooped every single thing out of me and left nothing else but pain behind.

My legs trembled as I stepped out of the car and began to walk straight to the home. My plan was simple: walk to the bedroom, pack my clothes and leave this nightmare of a relationship behind.

But the moment I pushed the door open, I froze, again.

This time, Lyra was sitting on the couch.

She was wrapped in a blanket, and was resting against the cushions as though this was her home. Evan sat beside her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Neither of them had noticed the door opening and me stepping in.

Evan held a glass of water to her lips, brushed her hair away with gentle fingers while whispering to her.

This was my fiancée, and he was comforting another woman in my home.

"I had no idea you were pregnant." Evan whispered,

Lyra lowered her lashes as her hands moved protectively over her slightly swollen body.

Pregnant?

My heart stopped beating for a moment as an absurd thought crossed my mind.

Was Evan the father?

"I'll get you some ginger ale," Evan whispered, then stood up and, without glancing at the door, he hurried towards the kitchen.

My nails dug into my palms as I watched him practically run to bring her some ginger ale.

The second Evan was out of earshot, Lyra's entire demeanor changed. Her soft, scared expression shifted into an entirely different expression, one of a sharp, mocking glare.

On the other sofa was her blonde friend and the girl leaned closer, "So... that fight earlier?" she gasped, "What really happened?"

Lyra flicked her hair over her shoulder as a triumphant smirk filled her face, "Oh please, those idiots were fools, and they were not trying to hurt me, just send a message," she replied, "Besides, I already dealt with the pregnancy situation."

Her friend blinked, then gasped, "Wait, you didn't?" she asked, staring at Lyra with wide eyes, "Did you...?"

Lyra grinned, "Yeah, I had a miscarriage last week, but Evan doesn't need to know that."

I almost choked, but kept my cool, standing as still as I could as they both aired out their affairs to the world.

"But what happens when he finds out?" The friend asked with raised brows,

Lyra laughed, it was a cold, threatening sound that sent shivers running down my spine.

"Evan? Find out? Please," she kept on chuckling, "I have that fool wrapped around my fingers. He'll believe anything I say," she glanced down and traced a finger down her exposed belly. "Honestly, all I have to do is cry, and he comes running over. The baby wasn't even his, and he was already ready to take responsibility for it."

My heart stopped, and my lungs tightened as if a weight had settled over them. Breathing became a chore, each breath forced and shallow.

Lyra wrinkled her nose, feigning exaggerated distaste. "Ugh, what's that disgusting smell?" she muttered, almost to herself. Her gaze then swept over the room and landed on me. A wicked smirk curled at the edges of her lips, like she'd just found something amusing.

She let the moment hang, relishing my discomfort, before her smile stretched wider. "Honestly, all of this is just too fun to watch," she drawled, flicking her wrist as if dismissing something trivial. "Seeing him dance around, thinking he's in control-it's almost cute," she continued, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyes flickered to her friend, who nodded in agreement, but then-almost imperceptibly-her gaze shifted toward me.My heart stopped, my lungs tightened until breathing became a chore.

Lyra's lips curled into a sneer, "Oh, I didn't even know you were there, sweetie," she whispered, "Don't look so heartbroken. Evan was always mine, you were only useful for keeping the spot warm."

I stepped forward, the disgust in me being consumed by an ever-rising rage. "You are lying," I said, my voice shaking in anger, "Evan deserves to know the truth of the woman he is leaving me for."

Lyra threw her head back and laughed, "The truth, Vera?" She chuckled. "Please go ahead, and let's see who he believes. I don't think you get it yet, I am taking your man just because I can, and nothing more."

Lyra tilted her head, her eyes glinting with malicious delight. Her voice dropped to a whisper, so laced with venom that it practically hissed. "Don't look so heartbroken. Evan was always mine. You were just... useful for keeping the spot warm."

I felt the words settle like ice in my veins, but something deep within me began to boil. I took a step forward, my disgust quickly morphing into something far more dangerous-rage. My voice trembled, not from fear, but from the force of the anger that surged within me. "You're lying," I spat, each word laced with fury. "Evan deserves to know the truth about the woman he's leaving me for."

Lyra's head tilted back in a laugh so sharp it almost seemed to slice the air. "The truth, Vera?" She chuckled, her tone dripping with mockery. "Please, go ahead, tell him. Let's see who he believes." Her smile deepened, colder now. "You still don't get it, do you? I'm taking your man-just because I can. And nothing more."

My throat tightened and for the first time in a long time, I thought about letting my fists do the talking.

"You are cruel, Lyra," I whispered, "I'm only sad that Evan is too blind to see it."

Lyra raised a brow, "And that you are far too weak to stop it."

I felt the heat rush through my veins, I held back my anger, but I wasn't going to let that go unanswered.

I took a step forward, and pointed at her. At the same time, I saw Lyra's eyes widen as her gaze darted behind me. And at that moment, her entire expression and demeanor changed,

She shifted from being smug and content, to looking like she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

It only took a moment for me to realize what was happening, and that moment was far too long .

Because before I could react, Lyra let out a large scream and crumbled hard to the floor.

"A-ah!" she screamed, "Help, Evan."

The sound of Evan running over filled the home. Lyra did not stop screaming even when he was running over.

"V-Vera pushed me!" she roared, "She pushed me. Oh my god, my baby, what will happen to my baby?"

Lyra was crying now, not just sobbing, crying, and she kept on wailing and pointing at me.

Evan dropped the mug of ginger ale with a loud crash. Without even looking at me, he rushed to Lyra's side and helped her up.

"Lyra," he called out, his voice cracked with genuine panic and pain. "What happened?" he asked, but his gaze barely brushed past me, a flash of disgust flickering in his eyes as he took in the sight of me-drenched in grime, a mess from crawling out of the trash heap, his gaze filled with anger as he looked at me. .

My lips parted, a flood of words racing up to my throat, but before I could speak, Lyra beat me to it.

"Evan. She pushed me, and I think I am losing the baby."

The words hit like a sledgehammer. A primal surge of anger, confusion, and helplessness coiled within me. "I DIDN'T TOUCH HER!" I screamed, more shocked by Lyra's acting than anything now, "Evan, she is lying to you! She's staging this, look at her!"

His eyes didn't even flicker in my direction. Not even a single, fleeting glance. He turned his back to me and started cradling her in his arms while his other hand searched his pockets for his car keys,

"Evan please, she staged all this. I did not touch her, I did not even - "

"SHUT UP!" Evan looked me in the eyes and roared,

I flinched, and the world froze around me,

Lyra kept on trying, but I wasn't going to stop until he knew exactly what happened.

"Evan, please listen to me," I continued, "Lyra is lying, she's not even pregnant anymore. She's - "

He stood, took two steps toward me, and before I could blink,

His hand struck my face.

The pain exploded like a firework behind my eyes, the jagged metal edges of the key fob and the serrated teeth of the ignition key had sliced into my skin on impact.

I staggered backward, my legs buckling beneath me as I collapsed.

The pain from his betrayal was already wrecking me apart before the sound of the slap reached me,

A sharp and completely brutal crack split the air apart, and for a full heartbeat, I stood there in confusion, not understanding what had just happened.

My head snapped to the side, my vision blurred, and I stumbled back as the hot rush of pain bloomed across my face,

Did.. Did he just slap me?

My heels caught on a rug, and I nearly crashed on the floor. The room tilted around me and I had to slam my hands on the wall just to re-orient myself.

Evan didn't move to help me, nor did he apologize.

He didn't even flinch, all he did was stare at me with burning eyes and a heaving chest, and for the first time in my life, I saw him completely furious.

Behind him, Lyra curled on the couch, her fake sobs filling the air as she clutched her stomach and occasionally stopped sobbing just to groan in pain. Her friend hovered dramatically above her, her eyes widening with horror that felt fake.

But neither of them mattered, Evan did.

My ears still rung, my breath was rough, and my body hurt, but I gritted my teeth and stood up,

"Evan..." my voice as it left my lips was cracked, confused and filled with raw fury. "Y-You hit me? I am your fiancee for God's sake, and you hit me over her lies."

He took a step forward and clenched his jaw, "I will do something worse if you do not leave my home at this very moment," he hissed,

His home? The only reason I wasn't stumbling back was because there was a wall behind me. What did he mean by that? I had paid for half of this house myself, and now, it was his home?

I had already decided that I was not going to be with him anymore, but his words still made my world spin, and slowly, everything within me began to grow cold and hollow.

"What are you still doing here, you bitch?" he screamed, "GET OUT!"

I straightened, moving as slowly as I could. "Fine," I whispered as I glanced up and met his gaze, "I'll go."

He just blinked.

The rage and fury in his eyes flickered at my words, and just for a second, I could spot indecision in his gaze.

But I was not waiting for him to come to his senses. Evan was a lost cause, and I would have to learn to live with that.

I turned away from him before he could see the tears already beginning to streak down my face. I refused to let him see me collapse, not now, never again.

My feet carried me down the hallway on autopilot, and while I was walking, I could hear Lyra still wailing, and Evan caring for her.

With a pained smile, I pushed them out of my mind and walked towards my room. My cheeks throbbed with every pulse, and it felt like Evan's slap had left a brand on my face.

I reached the bedroom and immediately went to work, with a grunt, I yanked open the wardrobe and began to pack my things. Clothes, shoes, accessories – all of them on the floor, like trash.

I grabbed my suitcase from under the bed and started shoving my clothes inside, not bothering to fold, nor sort them. I just packed my things in complete and desperate silence.

Every single breath I took was rough, and along with the roughness came the pain, not a physical one, but an emotional one.

I zipped my suitcase with a grunt and stood up to my full height. With trembling hands, I snatched up my phone, my charger, my pox of jewelry, placed everything in another smaller suitcase, and began to drag all of these things out of the door.

I let out a sigh of relief when I reached the living room door, and neither Lyra nor Evan was there.

I stretched out my hand to turn the doorknob and walk out, when a swift and fast shadow moved into my path.

Lyra.

She stood there with her arms crossed and a wide smirk on her face. Her hand still rested protectively over her stomach, and her entire expression oozed of nothing more than triumph.

She knew she had won, and she was here to gloat.

"Well, well, well," she purred, leaning her shoulders on the door frame, "Running away already? Wow, you really are a weak bitch," she hissed, "And here's me thinking you were going to put up more of a fight."

I kept my gaze forward, gripping my suitcase tighter-my knuckles throbbed, and my jaw stung where Evan's key-clenched fist had left a cut, blood trickling down my neck. The metallic taste burned in my mouth, fueling the rage simmering inside me. "Move."I kept my gaze forward and adjusted my grip on my suitcase.

Lyra sneered, then took a lazy step towards me. "Aw, sweetheart," she smiled, "I can't believe you are actually trying to be strong now. Cute, really. Too bad it's all for show."

"Move," this time, I repeated the question through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" Lyra stretched into a cruel, triumphant grin, and she stepped directly into my path, chest puffed out like she was daring me to strike. Her sneer grew longer, and she once again blocked my path.

This time, I was done playing games with her.

With a soft grunt, I raised up my smaller suitcase-not with a weak swing, but with every ounce of pent-up fury, and slammed it into her smug.

The crack that split the air was satisfying. It was a wet, meaty crunch that made her eyes fly wide. Lyra's scream was shrill, a yelp of shock and pain, as she stumbled backward, hands flying to her face. I didn't let her catch her breath. I dropped the suitcase hard, the wheels skittering on the floor, and lunged at her with flying fists, every punch aimed at the places that had hurt me. My knuckles connected with her cheek, her shoulder and even her ribs. The sound of the smack cracked the air and Lyra screamed as she fell on the floor.

She crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, her cries turning to whimpers as she curled into a ball, blood trickling from her split lips.

I leaned down slightly, my gaze sharp, letting each word hit like a threat. "You and Evan? You'll find out soon enough. The cost of bullying me isn't just a split lip or a black eye. It's far, far more devastating, and you'll both pay for it in full."

Her eyes blurred with tears, fat and ugly, streaking down her mascara-smeared cheeks. I could hear shouts erupting from inside the house. Evan's voice, high and panicked, calling her name, but I didn't care. I didn't spare Lyra another glance, didn't let her whimpers or her sniveling guilt-trips worm their way into my head. I grabbed my suitcase, wrenched the front door open, and slammed it shut behind me so hard the walls shook.