CRYSTAL BURGESS POV:

I instinctively took a step back, my heart pounding against my ribs. The cold inside me deepened, a freezing dread replacing the usual warmth I craved.

Then, a heavy wool blanket dropped over my shoulders. I looked up, my eyes meeting Garrick' s. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes-a raw, desperate pain-before he quickly masked it.

Connor stepped forward, his face carefully composed into that familiar, gentle smile. It was the same smile he used to give me when I was upset, the one that promised comfort and understanding. For a split second, I almost believed what I was seeing wasn't real.

"Crystal," he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. "What happened to you? Why are you so... disheveled?"

I bit my lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. My throat was tight, but I had to try. I had to beg. "Connor," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "Please. Don't leave me. I can change. I promise."

My words tumbled out, desperate and frantic. "I won't ask for so much anymore. I won't complain if the sheets aren't soft enough, or if the coffee isn't perfect." My hands trembled, reaching for his. "I won't cling to you when you're tired, or keep you up talking when you need to rest."

"It's just you, Connor," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "Only you. You're the only one left. Please, don't leave me alone." I was so caught up in my desperate plea, I didn't see the fleeting flicker of pain in Garrick's eyes just behind Connor.

Connor's gaze dropped to my scraped knees, a brief look of concern crossing his face. But it vanished quickly. My voice, full of my desperation, still held echoes of the spoiled girl he was leaving.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his arm, yearning for his touch, for any sign of the affection he once gave so freely.

He flinched, pulling his arm back as if my touch burned him. My hand dropped, useless and empty.

"Let's go inside, Crystal," he said, his voice still gentle, but firm. "We can talk properly there."

The house was warm, meticulously organized. Everything inside spoke of care and attention. The raw wood beams of the ceiling were smoothed, polished until they gleamed. Each corner was free of dust, and a large pile of perfectly chopped firewood was stacked neatly beside the hearth, enough to last for weeks.

I remembered my own apartment. Cold. Empty. The roof had leaked since Jorden left, a persistent drip that I hadn't dared to complain about. The firewood ran out days ago, and Garrick, my ever-efficient provider, had not replenished it. Connor hadn't done it either. I had been too afraid to ask, too afraid that any complaint would be the final straw. So I huddled in thin blankets, silently freezing, pretending not to notice the cold or the leaks. I used to secretly snuggle closer to Connor on cold nights, pretending it was just for comfort, when in reality, it was for warmth.

From the inner room, I heard hushed voices. My head snapped up, my ears straining.

"Are you going soft, Connor?" Garrick's low voice, sharp and biting. "Don't tell me you're regretting the plan now."

Connor's voice was cold, devoid of the gentle tone he used with me just moments ago. "No. I'm just making sure she doesn' t run to her father, or worse, try to sabotage Andrea." A cynical laugh followed. "She's so easy to manipulate when she's desperate."

My mind went blank. The words echoed, loud and clear, shattering what little hope I had left. A plan. A manipulation. It was all a lie.

I heard footsteps fading, moving further into the house. They were leaving me again.

CRYSTAL BURGESS POV:

Connor knelt before me, his eyes cast down, his movements slow and deliberate. He picked up a soft cloth, carefully dabbing at the blood on my knees. His touch was light, almost tender, the same tenderness he' d used to clean my scrapes when I was a clumsy child, before I became his partner.

"Crystal," he said, his voice still that familiar, soothing balm. "I'm with Andrea now. Truly with her." His words were a polite, final stab. "You should find someone else. There are many other excellent men who would adore you."

He even managed a small, sad smile. "You always used to say you'd leave us for a better partner if we ever annoyed you. You'd joke about finding someone who catered to your every whim."

My mind screamed. It was just talk! Empty threats! The words caught in my throat, choked by fresh tears. Why are you taking it seriously now?

I looked at him through my watery vision, shaking my head, desperate to deny the truth he was laying bare.

His gaze lingered on my tear-stained face, a shadow of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, slowly, he reached out, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my cheek. He even ruffled my hair, a gesture so familiar, so intimate, it felt like a cruel joke.

He stood up, turning to fill a glass of water, his back to me. "I'll get some antiseptic for your knee," he said, his voice distant.

Suddenly, something heavy hit my back. I cried out, startled. I spun around, my eyes widening. Standing there was Andrea' s son, his small face contorted in a furious scowl. In his hands, he clutched a steaming kettle.

"You' re a bad lady!" he screamed, his voice high-pitched and angry. "Leave my mommy' s house! Go away!"

He raised the kettle again, aiming it at me. I instinctively threw my arm up to shield my face. Boiling water splashed from the spout, a few drops flying back, landing on his arm.

A piercing shriek tore through the air. Andrea' s son dropped the kettle, clutching his arm, his wails echoing through the house.

Just then, the front door burst open, letting in a blast of icy air.

A hand, strong and cold, clamped around my throat. My breath hitched, my vision blurring.

Jorden' s face was inches from mine, his eyes glowing with an eerie, predatory green. His teeth were bared, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "You… you dared to hurt him?" he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "You really are a monster, aren' t you?"

He laughed then, a bitter, humorless sound. "You never change, do you? Always the selfish brat, hurting everyone around you."

Jorden. My passionate Jorden. He was the one who had once promised to write songs about my eyes, who would stay up all night just to watch me sleep. He had left me for Andrea, telling me she was brave, strong, a woman who didn't 'need' him in the same suffocating way I did. He' d even taken on dangerous, long-term assignments to prove his loyalty to her, or so I' d heard. When he left, his eyes had been filled with cold disdain, and he' d told me he regretted every moment he' d wasted pampering me. He said I was a weakness, a distraction he could no longer afford.

I remembered his words. My weakness.

I couldn' t breathe. My hands clawed at his wrist, my strength rapidly draining. Tears streamed down my face, blurring everything into a kaleidoscope of pain. I looked into his eyes one last time, searching for any glimmer of the man I' d loved. There was nothing. Just empty, gray desolation.

CRYSTAL BURGESS POV:

Jorden's green eyes, usually so full of fire, narrowed. He saw the blankness in my gaze, the way my struggles had ceased.

"Jorden! You're going to kill her!" Garrick's voice, sharp with alarm, cut through the haze.

Jorden's grip faltered. He looked at me, really looked, and a flicker of something - panic? - crossed his face. He quickly released me.

I fell to the floor in a heap, my lungs burning, my throat constricted. I gasped, coughing until my chest ached, my body wracked with tremors.

Connor rushed to my side, his hand reaching for me.

Just then, Andrea, awakened by the commotion, flung open the bedroom door. She took in the scene: her sobbing son, Jorden towering over me, me gasping on the floor, and Connor hovering.

Connor froze, his hand still outstretched. His eyes met Andrea's, then darted back to me. He recoiled, pushing me away with a sudden, rough shove. I tumbled backward, hitting my head against the wooden floor, a fresh wave of pain blossoming across my scalp.

Garrick, who had been standing a few feet away, took half a step forward, his jaw tight. Then he stopped, his gaze fixed on my pathetic form, his shoulders slumping.

Jorden, a cruel smirk on his face, eyed Connor. "Still playing the hero, Connor? I thought you promised to 'guard her for life'?" He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Guess even you couldn't stomach the spoiled princess forever. We all want the same woman, it seems, and it certainly isn't her." His gaze, filled with contempt, swept over me where I lay crumpled on the floor.

Connor's eyes, dark and unreadable, met my frantic, pleading stare. He held it for a beat, then slowly, deliberately, he turned his head away.

I froze, unable to breathe, unable to move. It was the final nail. The utter, complete, absolute end.

"Crystal? Is your arm alright?" Andrea's voice, surprisingly soft, cut through the tension.

Only then did everyone notice. My forearm, where the boiling water had splashed, was a horrifying expanse of bright red skin, angry blisters already beginning to form.

The three men who had once worshipped me, who had promised me forever, all looked at me with a strange mix of shock and something like pity. They expected me to scream, to cry, to demand attention.

But I didn't. I just pushed myself up, slowly, painfully, without a sound.

My eyes, dull and devoid of emotion, found Andrea. She stood there, beautiful and composed, her warmth a stark contrast to the icy cold that had settled in my heart. She was everything they had ever wanted me to be: strong, independent, capable. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that no one in this room, save for perhaps Andrea herself, would ever choose me over her.

Andrea patted her son's back, trying to quiet his sobs. "Sweetheart, you shouldn't have thrown the kettle. You need to apologize to Crystal."

The boy buried his face in her side, muttering an indignant "No!"

Andrea offered me a helpless, apologetic smile. "He's still quite young," she said, her voice gentle. "He doesn't fully understand. I'm so sorry, Crystal. Let me get you some burn cream."

"No," I said, my voice flat, dead.

Everyone looked at me, startled by my unexpected refusal.

"He needs to apologize," I repeated, my voice unwavering, though my body felt like it was crumbling.

Andrea's smile faded. Her brow furrowed, a tiny line appearing between her eyebrows. "Crystal, he' s just a child. Perhaps an apology isn't... appropriate right now."

"He needs to apologize," I insisted, my voice gaining a desperate edge I hadn't known I possessed.

"That's enough, Crystal!" Jorden's voice, sharp and furious, cut me off.