I'm rejected after asking for my boyfriend's hand in marriage for the 99th time. To my devastation, he turns and proposes to my best friend.

I storm over to his office to demand an answer, but I hear them making out. My boyfriend says, "Don't worry. She offered herself to me in bed several times, but I've never touched her."

I head home and trash the place. When I run out of strength, I make a call. "I'll marry you, Spencer."

Since the man I chose doesn't love me, I'll now go for someone who does.

My senior, Spencer Salter, spoke with excitement on the phone. He was thrilled that he was able to marry me.

I used to feel the same way about my boyfriend, Zeke Pedersen.

After confirming my relationship with Zeke and moving in together, I had eagerly looked forward to the day we would get married. I loved him deeply, but I also felt insecure.

That was why I foolishly tried to bind him to me through marriage. That was why I insisted, over and over again, that we should get married.

After rejecting me for the 99th time, he turned around and proposed to my best friend instead. Her victory made all my years of effort feel like a joke.

As I leaned against the couch, silent tears streamed down my face.

I remained slumped there until Zeke came home that evening. He pushed open the door, frowned at the mess, and scolded me, "Why is the house such a disaster? With the way you are, what man would want to marry you?"

I slowly moved my gaze to him. I supposed time truly changed people.

When we first moved into our new home, he had said I didn't need to lift a finger to do housework—I only needed to be his happy little princess. Back then, he would even scold me if I tried to carry anything heavy.

Now, he simply took it for granted that household chores were my responsibility.

I said nothing. I got up, walked past him into the master bedroom, and started packing my clothes.

Zeke followed me in, and his body reeked of an overpowering women's perfume. It was the scent my best friend, Brooke Fuller, loved the most.

He simply smirked when he saw me placing my clothes into a suitcase. With his hands in his pockets, he looked at me coldly.

"Running away from home again? What's the point of it? In the end, you'll just come crawling back, looking pathetic. Even if you're not embarrassed, I feel ashamed for you.

"How many times have you thrown tantrums and threatened to break up? Have I ever taken you seriously?

"Heidi Yates, you love me so much that you can't live without me. If you were just a little more obedient, I might have treated you better. But no—you just have to be difficult!"

My hands froze. So, he had always known.

He knew my so-called tantrums were just desperate attempts to get him to comfort me. Yet, he had deliberately left me to deal with my emotions alone.

I turned my head and looked at his face which was now more unfamiliar than ever. I murmured, "Don't worry. I'll no longer be difficult."

Whatever love I had for him was gone.

Zeke was momentarily stunned as if my serious tone had caught him off guard. Realizing something, he reached out to stop me.

Just then, his phone rang. He then casually answered Brooke's call without hesitation right in front of me.

I didn't know what she said, but it made him burst into laughter. Then, he opened the door and walked out without another word.

The door closed softly—so softly that something inside me finally shattered.

That night, I saw Zeke's update on social media. It was a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, with the caption, "Finally married the love of my life."

In the comments, his friends all assumed it was me and kept tagging me.

"Congratulations! You finally married Heidi! When's the wedding?"

"Man, you're lucky to have married our campus belle!"

"Where's Heidi? Why isn't she saying anything?"

…

Zeke and I had been together for eight years, from college until now. All of his friends knew me. Even I felt dazed when I saw that post, let alone his friends.

However, it wasn't me. It was never me.

I clicked into the comments, ready to explain, but Zeke called me before I could type anything.

The moment I answered, he lashed out at me.

"Heidi, you're disgusting! You deliberately told my friends to comment like that just to make Brooke feel bad, didn't you?

"Listen up. Brooke is crying now. You'd better post on your feed and clarify that it wasn't you. And say that all these years, you were the one interfering in my relationship with Brooke. Tell them you're the other woman!"

My boyfriend had just publicly announced his love for another woman, yet he was demanding that I, his actual girlfriend, clear things up for him. He was even willing to brand me as the homewrecker—all for her.

A chill immediately spread through me, numbing every inch of my body.

So, eight years of my devotion meant less than a few tears from Brooke? It wasn't my fault. So, why was I the one who had to take the blame?

Just because I loved him, did that mean I deserved to have my dignity trampled like this?

He never considered my feelings. Not once did he stop to think about what kind of backlash I would face if I made that statement.

From beginning to end, the only person he cared about was Brooke.

I had once loved him so much that nothing else mattered. But now, I refused to keep on holding back.

When I stayed silent, he pressed on, "There are only two ways to solve this. Either you post an apology to Brooke, or we don't get married."

Whenever we fought in the past, he had always used this threat to force me into submission. I used to be so afraid of losing him that I gave in every time.

But all that ever did was make him push his limits further. People online always said that if you didn't love yourself, others would trample all over you.

Zeke was the perfect embodiment of that truth.

"Do whatever you want," I said and hung up.

He had never intended to marry me—he had only used it as a leash to keep me tied to him.

After I ended the call, Zeke flew into a rage, bombarding me with hateful messages. His words were vicious. It was as if we had never loved each other at all.

I simply blocked him before I packed my things and left them with a friend for safekeeping.

Then, I went to my company and resigned.

Hampsville was Zeke's hometown. After graduating from university, I had followed him here from Jacobsville, thinking it would be the start of my happy life.

Hampsville was a beautiful place, but I no longer had plans to return. After settling everything, I met up with a few friends for a farewell dinner.

When we finished eating, they went to the restroom. I waited outside, only to unexpectedly run into Zeke, who was also waiting for someone.

At that moment, he was holding Brooke's coat.

When Zeke saw me, he sneered. "Heidi, are you that desperate? You're even following me to a restaurant now?"

He handed me a coat. "This is Brooke's. Make sure you apologize to her properly later. As long as she forgives you, I'll let this go."

I didn't take it. I just looked at him.

Zeke was always busy with work. Getting him to have a meal with me used to require booking a date a month in advance.

Even when we did go out, he was impatient and cold the entire time. When we left the restaurant in the past, he would never wait for me by the restroom, let alone carry my coat.

He used to say, "Women are such a hassle", before walking straight to the parking lot. It was as if I were some virus he couldn't wait to escape from.

Yet now, he stood there willingly, doing for Brooke what he had never been willing to do for me. I felt bitter, but I no longer wanted to dwell on it.

"I'm here because I have dinner plans with my friends," I explained calmly.

Zeke didn't believe me. "Oh, come on. You think I don't know what you're up to?"

His eyes were full of arrogance, as if he were saying, "I know you still care about me. Just stop pretending."

I had no interest in explaining further. He could think whatever he wanted.

Just then, a piercing scream came from the restroom. Zeke rushed inside without hesitation, and I followed him in.

Brooke was sprawled on the floor of a stall. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes were disheveled. She looked like she had just been attacked.

Her dazed eyes instantly found focus when she saw Zeke. She quickly threw herself into his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Zeke comforted her gently, and once she had calmed down slightly, she turned to me with tear-filled eyes.

"Heidi, why couldn't you just talk to me? Why did you have to slander me behind my back and have them gang up on me?

"If you think I'm too close to Zeke, I can keep my distance. But why call me a homewrecker and have them tear at my clothes?"

Her voice grew more emotional, and her shoulders shook with every sob. "But I'm the one Zeke truly loves! The one who isn't loved is the real mistress!

"I was only following my heart. What did I do that was so wrong?"

I had no idea what had happened inside before I walked in, yet I was already being blamed.

Zeke's glare turned murderous, and his hand clamped around my throat before I could react. "Didn't know you were this capable—setting up bullying tactics now, huh?"

His fingers tightened around my neck. My breath caught, and I shook my head. "No, I didn't do anything."

My friends hurried to defend me, saying, "We never touched her! She staged this entire thing!

"The moment she walked in, she tore her own clothes and messed up her hair. If you don't believe us, ask—"

"Enough!" Zeke refused to listen, and his furious voice cut through the air. "I'll deal with all of you later!"

With that, he dragged me toward the restroom entrance. "You like ripping people's clothes? You like playing the bully now?"

He slammed me against the wall. One hand was still gripping my throat, and the other was yanking at my clothes. "Then, let's play!"

"Zeke Pedersen, what are you doing? Let go of me! Don't touch me!"

Ignoring my protests, he tore my clothes apart and threw me to the ground. I tried to run back into the women's restroom, but he blocked my way.

"Aren't you the one who likes ripping clothes? Then, go home like this."

My friends rushed forward to help, but he stopped them. It was the middle of January. Even with the restaurant's heating on, my thin undergarments provided little warmth.

I clenched my fists, staring at Zeke with burning hatred.

Meanwhile, he stood there indifferently, watching me struggle with amusement.

A crowd had gathered, and there were more and more people stopping to watch. Most of them were just there for the spectacle. However, some even pulled out their phones to record.

Barefoot, I felt the cold seep in from the ground, spreading through my entire body. Maybe it was the cold—or maybe something inside me had already numbed—but I found myself eerily calm.

"Zeke, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Did you think about that when you had your friends bully Brooke?" he shot back.

Then, he gave me two choices with unwavering cruelty. "Either you walk home like this or you kneel and apologize to Brooke. Pick one."

I had done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?

Taking a deep breath, I turned and walked toward the restaurant's entrance.

It wasn't far, but my legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Each step required all the strength I had left. When I finally reached the door, I realized it was raining.

Without the warmth of indoor heating, the wind cut into me like a blade, stripping away the last remnants of my body's heat.

Zeke wrapped his arm around Brooke as they passed me, heading toward their car. Before getting in, he didn't forget to issue one last order.

"Keep an eye on her. No one is allowed to help."

Then, he and Brooke disappeared from sight.

I stepped forward, right into the rain. Between the icy wind and the relentless downpour, I soon lost all feeling in my limbs.

Even so, I couldn't stop walking. If I stopped, I would become nothing more than a spectacle for the onlookers—a joke for them to laugh at.

Not long after, my vision blurred. A memory suddenly surfaced of something that happened years ago during another heavy downpour.

I hadn't brought an umbrella that day and arrived home drenched, burning with fever. Zeke had stayed by my side for an entire day and night. His face was swollen when I woke up. I later learned it was because he had punched himself out of guilt.

After that, every time it rained, he had ordered me to stay put until he came to pick me up. But today, he was the one who had personally thrown me into this freezing January storm, dressed in nothing but my underclothes.

A sudden dizziness hit me. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the ground.

I was so cold that I couldn't even feel pain anymore. Still, I tried to get up and keep moving. But my body refused to listen.

That was when darkness swallowed my vision, and I lost consciousness completely.