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.

The cold, icy night air bit into my skin the moment the door shut behind me.

For a while, I did nothing else but stand there on the porch with my suitcase held tightly in my hands. My body trembled violently, whether from the pain in my cheek, or the sheer adrenaline rushing through my body, I didn't know, and right then, I honestly did not care.

All I knew was the simple and final fact that I was done.

With Evan, with love, and with relationships.

My vision blurred as I forced myself down the steps. It took me only a couple of seconds to reach my car, throw my suitcase into the backseat, and start the engine.

That last part was the hardest. My hands were trembling, and it took a few tries for me to be able to turn the key. The engine turned to life, and my love collapsed along with it.

I drove,

Somewhere, anywhere.

It didn't matter. I had no plan, no thoughts, no destination, just a desire to be free. It was only when I began to recognize the streets I was driving through that I realized where I was heading.

Home.

My parents' house appeared at the end of the quiet street.

I blinked through the tears falling down my eyes as I drove into their driveway. I still had not called them, and I had no idea how I was going to be received, but right now, they were the only family I had.

The porch light turned on, and the moment I opened my car door, I spotted my mother standing outside the home, her arms folded and her expression stern.

"Vera dear," she whispered, her tone filled with concern and fear, not anger like I had expected, "Is that you, honey?"

That was all it took,

Her soft tone and her warm motherly smile were more than enough to break the dam I had built up.

I cried harder than I had ever had,

"Oh sweetheart..." My mum rushed towards me and pulled me into a warm big hug, "What did he do? What happened? Are you hurt?"

I couldn't answer, my tears clouded my vision and all I could do was hug her tighter,

From behind her, I could see the visage of my dad appearing behind the door.

His usually stern gaze softened the moment he saw me. I expected him to shout, to scream at me or something, but he only frowned and stepped aside.

"Get her inside," he murmured, then before I could blink, he stepped forward and took my suitcase from my hand, "It's late,"

I leaned heavily on my mother as she guided me into my former bedroom. I collapsed on the bed and watched as my mother sat beside me and gently brushed back my hair.

"You are safe now, honey," she whispered,

And with those words, I fell asleep and, for the first time in a long time, I felt warmth.

***

It had been a week since that night, and morning still came too fast for me.

The heavy light filtering through the satin curtains were too bright for my eyes. My body ached, my eyes still felt puffy from all the crying, and my heart still felt strained.

When I finally blinked awake, there were two shadows hovering over my bed,

My dad and mum.

"Morning," Collins, my dad, smiled as he glanced down at me,

Rose Varon, the woman who had birthed me, hovered closer and pressed the back of her hand to my neck, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I died and woke up in hell," I murmured as I sat up and stifled a groan,

My mom did not accept that answer. "Nope," she shook her head, "We are not doing this again. You are not going to spend another day sulking under the bedsheets."

"I wasn't sulking," I whispered,

"You were," my dad replied, and that shut me up.

"Get ready," Rose said with a bright grin that sent shivers running down my spine,

I froze,

"Why?" I grumble, "You know I don't want to,"

"I know baby," my mother whispered, "But you need to get up and put Evan out of your mind, he has chosen his place. Now, you need to choose yours. You are beautiful, young and smart. You don't need to wallow in pain crying about a man who does not care about you."

I stared into my mom's eyes and offered her the warmest smile I possibly could, "I know mom, I really do," I whispered, hugging myself, "But my heart still hurts."

"And I have the perfect remedy for that," Rose said with a smile, shifting closer to me, "I believe you need to move on,"

"How?" I asked, frowning,

"Have you thought about a date?" Rose asked,

I froze, and the world went still around me, "A... a date?"

I had just gotten out of a relationship that had shattered me, and now my mom wanted me to go on a date? I did not have the strength for that.

But Rose was relentless. "Think about it love," she continued, "Even if it's just for fun, it is at least going to give you something to do and think about."

I let out a sigh, and nodded, "Okay, I'll think about it." I paused, a suspicious feeling rising within me, "Don't tell me you have already found a date?"

"Yes," Rose answered with a smile, "It's this afternoon, and it is with an amazing guy."

She didn't even wait for my reply before picking up a dress and showing it to me, "Don't worry honey, I'll dress you,"

I shifted away from my traitorous mom on sheer instinct, "Uh... can I say no?" I asked, "This is just too soon."

"Oh, you're ready," My mom smiled, "Trust me,"

I turned to face my dad, who promptly found one of the posters on the wall very interesting.

My stomach twisted as I let out a sigh and nodded at mom, "Who is he?"

My mom smiled wickedly, like she had been waiting for me to ask that exact question, ---

"His name is Sylas Gold," she whispered,

And I froze in disbelief.