On the night that was supposed to be my engagement night with Lewis Stuart, my brother’s best friend and the man I had loved for seven years, he was at the airport, picking up Katrina Richards, his childhood sweetheart.

My heart sank further when I learned he had not just gone to greet her.

As if completely forgetting the significance of that night, Lewis had organized a welcoming party for Katrina at a trendy bar.

As I gripped my phone tightly, the waiter said gently, “Miss, sorry, but we’ll be closing soon.”

I forced a smile, stood, and thanked him, though my chest felt like it might collapse from the weight of my disappointment.

As if my brother, Tobias Scott, was aware of my disappointment, he directly messaged me, [Come to the welcoming party with me.]

But the moment I stepped inside, I saw Lewis standing with Katrina in the center. They were doing a passionate, careless kiss that shattered whatever remnants of hope I had left.

I turned to Tobias, my voice trembling but resolute. “Tell our parents I accept the arranged marriage. And the sooner we get married, the better.”

To my surprise, the man my parents had chosen for me was the epitome of kindness and respect.

But just as the vows were about to be exchanged, chaos erupted.

The church doors burst open, and there stood Lewis, disheveled and desperate. “You’re supposed to get engaged with me, Graciela. Not this man!”

“No way, Lewis,” I said firmly, my voice echoing with conviction. “You’re too late.”

***

“Your call could not be connected.”

I did not know how many times I heard that cold response as I called Lewis repeatedly, my anxiety growing with each failed attempt.

Dressed in an ivory evening gown, I sat at a table adorned with roses, lit by the flickering glow of candlelight.

That was supposed to be the engagement day I had dreamed of since Lewis promised to make me his fiancée.

With that promise, I thought I could finally escape the trap of a business-arranged marriage that my family had been pressuring me into.

Lewis was my salvation, or so I believed.

I had loved him since I was 13, when my brother took him home.

I loved his sweet smile, his handsome face, and his silly attitude which made me so happy when he finally accepted me and vowed to be my future partner.

But dreams had a way of shattering, and mine crumbled under the weight of my own expectations.

Instead of arriving at the restaurant to fulfill his promise, Lewis was elsewhere.

My chest tightened as I stared at a story posted by one of his friends. A photo of him at the airport, welcoming Katrina, his childhood sweetheart who had just returned to New York.

My hands trembled as I gripped my phone, the betrayal stinging sharper than I thought possible.

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to smash every carefully placed decoration on the table, to vent my anger and frustration in a way that mirrored the chaos in my heart.

Before I could act on those impulses, my phone buzzed in my hand. A call. Not from Lewis, but from Tobias, my brother.

“Where are you? My elementary school friend just came back, and she’s throwing a party. Wanna come?” he asked casually.

The question pulled me out of my haze of disappointment, but his words twisted the knife further.

My engagement to Lewis was meant to be private, something we had decided to keep secret until we officially exchanged rings. It was his request.

He said it would be more intimate and more memorable.

So, I had agreed, not realizing that the secrecy could so easily become an excuse for him to break his promise.

Under the disappointment, I replied to Tobias, “Sure. Pick me up at…”

I gave my brother the location of the restaurant.

It was not long before he arrived, his car pulling up to the curb.

As I climbed into the passenger seat, Tobias blinked in confusion at my formal attire.

“I didn’t expect you to be so ready. It’s just a regular party at a bar, doesn’t need to be that fancy,” he said, his tone light.

Fastening my seatbelt, I answered coldly, my voice devoid of the usual warmth I reserved for my brother. “I was at a friend’s birthday party earlier. I didn’t feel like going home to change.”

“I see,” Tobias replied, shrugging, his curiosity dulled by my clipped tone.

Driving to the destination, my chest tightened with unease.

As I suspected, the friend Tobias mentioned was Katrina, the very girl Lewis had just picked up from the airport.

I was consumed with curiosity about the girl who had so thoroughly captivated Lewis that he had forgotten about me.

As soon as we stepped into the bar, I noticed how the atmosphere shifted. The lively chatter and laughter dulled as heads turned toward me, their gazes filled with thinly veiled curiosity.

The group of Tobias’ and Lewis’ friends suddenly became guarded, as though they knew a secret I was not yet privy to.

In the center of it all stood Lewis and Katrina.

They were engaged in a love shot, their arms intertwined as they downed their drinks, radiating a kind of closeness that sent a sharp pang through my chest.

Lewis spotted me first.

Stumbling slightly from the alcohol, he abandoned his drink and made his way over to me, a sloppy grin plastered across his face.

“Oh, Grace, you came too,” he slurred, the sour smell of alcohol clinging to him.

I held my composure, though my voice betrayed my irritation. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

He waved a dismissive hand, his tone casual. “Oh, my phone’s battery died. I’m sorry.”

My jaw tightened at his nonchalance.

Before I could press him further, someone from the group called out with a laugh, “Wow, Tobias, look at your sister and your friend! They’re already fighting as soon as they meet.”

I shot them a glare, but it only encouraged others to chime in.

“They’re like Tom and Jerry, aren’t they? Always at it, even though they’re about to get engaged.”

“That’s right. When’s the big day?” someone else asked, grinning.

Lewis smiled, entirely unbothered. Wrapping an arm around me, he pulled me close in a mock embrace.

“Soon,” he said, then glanced at me. “Right, Grace? We can get engaged whenever we want.”

The words made my stomach churn. We were supposed to be engaged today, not ‘whenever.’

I opened my mouth to retort, anger bubbling inside me, but before I could speak, the sharp sound of glass shattering silenced the room.

Everyone turned to see Katrina standing with a broken glass at her feet.

Her expression was a mix of drama and defiance, designed to command attention.

“Oh, Lewis,” she cooed as she approached us. Her hands reached up to cradle his face as though no one else existed in the room. “Why did you leave me so soon? The dare wasn’t just a love shot but also….”

Her voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air, and then she did the unthinkable. She kissed him.

Right in front of me.

The room erupted in cheers and whistles, some calling out about the wild truth-or-dare game. But all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

I stood frozen as Lewis’ hand, which had been holding me, slid to embrace Katrina instead.

His kiss was not hesitant. It was fervent, passionate, like the kind I had dreamed of for years but never truly received.

Between their kisses, Katrina whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Lewis is mine.”

She did not need to finish the sentence; her actions said it all.

The room blurred, my vision clouded by tears I refused to let fall.

Straightening my posture, I walked out of the bar with my head held high, though I felt as if I were breaking into a thousand pieces.

Tobias was right behind me, his voice full of fury. “That is insane!” he yelled.

I ignored him, my legs moving on instinct as I headed toward the valet stand.

“Hey, wait!” Tobias grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. “Let the valet bring the car. Don’t do anything reckless.”

I turned to face him, my tears finally spilling over. Tobias’ expression softened, his anger replaced with concern as he pulled me into a hug.

For seven years, I had dreamed of that day. The day when Lewis and I were together forever.

But that night, it became painfully clear. I was nothing more than a stand-in, a convenient placeholder for the woman he truly loved.

The ride back to our penthouse was silent, but my mind was anything but.

As the city lights blurred past the window, I made my decision. If Lewis could not be bothered to keep his promises, then he did not deserve me.

So, I asked Tobias as we arrived, “Hey, do you have the photo of the man that was arranged for me by our parents?”

“Hm, why do you suddenly ask about that?” Tobias looked confused by my abrupt question.

I hesitated, realizing how strange it was to ask. Instead of explaining, I brushed it off. “Never mind,” I said quickly before retreating to my bedroom and locking the door.

As the morning came, I ignored Tobias’ persistent knocks, cocooned under a blanket that was still damp from the tears I had cried all night.

The remnants of my breakdown surrounded me. Photos and mementos of Lewis and me lay torn and scattered across the floor.

Not long after, I heard Tobias speaking to someone.

“I’m going to work now. She hasn’t eaten since last night, so cook something delicious,” he instructed, his voice fading as the front door clicked shut.

I assumed it was the chef Tobias occasionally hired to cook at the penthouse, so I paid no attention.

Moments later, the sounds of chopping and sizzling drifted from the kitchen. My stomach growled despite my misery, the scent of food wafting faintly through the walls.

“Ugh, never mind. Being hungry won’t take away my heartache,” I muttered bitterly.

Reluctantly, I left my room, drawn by hunger. But when I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

It was not the chef standing at the stove. It was Lewis.

He turned to me with a cheerful expression, holding a ladle in one hand. “Oh, Grace, you’re finally out. Come eat! I cooked a lot for you. There’s even your favorite meatball soup.”

He acted as if nothing had happened.

Tears welled in my eyes again, pouring freely as the memories of the previous night flooded back.

I stood there, rooted near the kitchen doorway, neither approaching him nor retreating.

Lewis quickly noticed and hurried over, wiping my tears with his hand. “Look at you, such a big girl, but still always crying. What would you do without me?”

His words cut deeper than he could have known. For seven years, I had been spoiled by him, clinging to the belief that he would eventually love me as much as I loved him.

The first time I saw Lewis, I was 13. He was already an 18-year-old college student and my brother’s best friend.

I did not remember much about his earlier visits to our house when Tobias and he were in elementary school, but I knew he was the older boy who used to play with me.

When we reconnected during my teenage years, everything changed.

Lewis became a constant presence, bringing me small gifts, driving me to school, and occasionally inviting me to hang out.

My childhood admiration grew into a full-blown crush.

So, when my parents introduced the idea of an arranged marriage during my college years, I immediately rejected it.

I moved into a studio apartment near campus to escape their pressure, though Tobias eventually convinced me to live with him at his penthouse, promising not to bring up the matchmaking again.

Still, my parents persisted.

Desperate, I turned to Lewis and asked him directly if he would marry me.

“Maybe we can get engaged first,” he said.

His words made my heart soar. I thought my love for him was not one-sided after all.

From that day, we officially began dating and started preparing for our engagement.

Even Tobias, who clearly did not approve of the relationship, chose not to interfere. Everything seemed perfect.

Until last night, when it all came crashing down.

Lewis gently stroked my hair as I cried, his touch once a source of comfort but now unbearable. “Stop crying and eat, okay?” he coaxed.

The intimacy I had long cherished only made me feel repelled.

“But, Lewis, I am crying because of you, because of your fake love. It really made don’t want you anymore,” I thought, though I lacked the courage to say it aloud.

Lewis noticed my silence. “Are you still upset about last night?”

The mention of it ignited the anger I had tried to suppress. “How could I not be angry when I saw my boyfriend kissing another girl?”

“Right, right, you have every right to be angry,” he admitted, raising his hands defensively. “But it was just a game, Grace.”

“Truth or dare is a game that should be banned at gatherings!” I shouted, my voice trembling with rage.

Lewis immediately pulled me into a hug, stroking my hair again. “I see how disappointed you are, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Forgive me, okay? You know I love you.”

He grinned, teasing me. “You can even kiss me to get rid of the kiss marks on my lips.”

I pushed him away, my voice sharp. “No need. I’m hungry.”

I walked to the dining table, grabbed a glass of water, and sipped it while still sobbing. Lewis followed me, sitting close and flashing his usual charming smile.

“Should I feed you? What do you want to eat first?” he offered.

I glared at him. Even when I noticed the bite marks on Lewis’ lips, my anger flared hotter.

"I can eat by myself. I'm 20 years old," I snapped.

Lewis smirked, barely holding back a chuckle. "Right, right, you're an adult."

He had always seen me as the 13-year-old kid who used to trail after him everywhere.

His constant spoiling of me, while occasionally annoying, was something I had come to accept as his way of showing affection.

I slammed my glass down and grabbed the spoon to dig into the meatball soup. My frustration fueled my movements, and in my haste, I choked.

Lewis leaned in, dabbing my mouth with a tissue. "Slow down. Don’t eat while sulking like that."

"I said I can do it myself!" I snatched the tissue from his hand, glaring at him.

Lewis smiled, undeterred. "Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it. I’m heading to the toilet for a minute."

He grabbed his phone but left his wallet on the table. So, the sight of his wallet tempted me.

Curiosity gnawed at me. Maybe there was a photo of me tucked inside. A small token of our relationship, proof that I mattered to him.

As I opened the wallet, my pulse quickened. But what I found was not what I had hoped for.

Inside was a photo of young Katrina and young Lewis, smiling together as if they had shared their entire lives.

Anger surged through me, and before I could think, I tore the photo in anger.

My hands trembled with fury, and I did not even notice when they brushed against the hot soup, spilling it onto my arm.

Lewis returned just in time to see the mess.

His face turned to panic as he rushed to clean up the spilled soup and check my hand. "Oh my God, look what happens if I leave you for a second. We’re going to the hospital."

"It’s just a minor burn," I protested, trying to downplay the situation.

Lewis ignored me completely. Before I knew it, he had scooped me up and carried me to the car.

As if fate were mocking me, we ran into Katrina in the hospital corridor. She was hopping down the hall on one foot, clearly struggling with a sprained ankle.

Lewis, who had been so attentive moments ago, immediately shifted his focus to her. He frowned, his worry etched into every line of his face.

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to support her.

Katrina smiled sweetly, her gaze only focusing on Lewis. "It’s just a sprain. And you?"

My hands curled into fists since she acted as if Lewis was alone there. So, I said mockingly, “We’re here to visit the obstetrician.”

The change in Katrina’s face was instantaneous, but Lewis stiffened, his expression freezing. He turned to me with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard.

“No, no,” he stammered, addressing Katrina. “As I said to you last night, she’s my reckless little sister. Her hand got burned because she was careless with hot soup.”

Little sister?

My breath hitched. Last night, after they kissed, Lewis did not just betray me, but he even introduced me as his little sister to Katrina.

Katrina’s gaze flicked between us, a slow smirk playing on her lips.

“If your hand is injured, you shouldn’t be at a gynecologist but at a general clinic, little sister,” she said, emphasizing the words with relish.

Then, she turned to Lewis, her voice dripping with faux concern, “Lewis, you must be overwhelmed taking care of her, right? So, hurry and take her before it gets worse. I’ll excuse myself then.”

As she started to hop away, Lewis did not even hesitate, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. "Let me take you over first, Kate. Grace, wait here for me."

Kate.

The nickname struck me like a blow to the chest. He did not just give me a special nickname; he had one for her too.

The energy drained from my body, leaving me weak and lightheaded.

What was more, Lewis did not ask for my permission, he simply walked away, carrying her toward the other clinic as if I did not exist.

No matter how well he acted toward me, his true feelings always slipped through when Katrina was around.

And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it.

The bitterness boiled over, but I held it in, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Turning away, I walked to the clinic alone.

After finishing the hospital administration, I hailed a taxi and left Lewis behind, who seemed more preoccupied with his Kate than with me.

My destination was Tobias’ office.

As soon as I arrived, I burst through the door and shouted, “Tell our parents I accept the arranged marriage!”

Tobias looked up from his desk, startled, his confusion quickly turning to alarm as he noticed my arm wrapped in gauze. “Are you… did you try to hurt yourself by cutting your wrist?”

He rushed toward me, gripping my arm and inspecting the gauze with panic in his eyes.

“Of course not,” I snapped. “It’s just a burn. Don’t change the subject, call our parents and tell them I’m ready to go home and get married.”

“You’re serious?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “But what about Lewis?”

I forced a smile, even as bitterness clawed at my throat. “I’ve figured it out. Mom and Dad want me to get married anyway, so does it matter to whom? Besides, I trust their judgment. They’ve probably already vetted the candidate thoroughly.”

Tobias hesitated before speaking. “Do you want to meet him first? Maybe date him a little before getting married?”

“No need,” I replied firmly. “The sooner, the better. Set the date for a month from now.”

Still cautious, Tobias nodded. “Got it.” He gestured to the couch. “Sit for a bit. I’ll let them know. After all, you’ve been out of the house for two years.”

“Do you think they’ll forgive me?” I asked quietly, realizing just how much time had passed since I left home.

Tobias shrugged. “Not only will they forgive you, but they’ll probably celebrate. This marriage strengthens ties with the Livingston family, it’s a big deal.”

I sighed. “I always knew this was about business, but hearing it spelled out still stings.”

Tobias offered a faint smile. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

After wrapping up his work, Tobias drove me back to the Scott Manor.

The moment I stepped through the door, my mother enveloped me in a tight hug.

“Oh, my sweetheart, you’ve finally come home,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

My father, ever stern, simply said, “Let’s have lunch and discuss everything.”

Despite my initial apprehension, the discussion went smoother than I expected.

As Tobias had predicted, my parents were thrilled. They immediately began planning to take me to a banquet to introduce me formally to the other businesses family and of course the Livingston family.

By the time lunch ended, I was exhausted from the endless conversations about arrangements, expectations, and schedules.

I retreated to my old bedroom. It was still untouched since I left, so its princess-like decor feeling strangely foreign at that moment.

It was not long before my phone rang. Seeing Lewis’ name on the screen, I hesitated before answering.

“Have you come home?” he asked.

“Hm.”

“I’m sorry, Grace,” he began. “I planned to come back for you right after taking Katrina home, but her stomach started acting up, so….”

Before he could finish, a waitress’ voice came through the background. “Sir, your dishes are all served. Please enjoy your meal!”

Though Lewis quickly muffled the receiver, it was too late, I had already heard everything.

“It’s fine. I’m an adult now; I can manage myself,” I replied, both to reassure him and myself.

“Grace, I’ll come to the penthouse,” he said hurriedly. “I’ll explain everything later.”

Explain what? More excuses? More lies?

I ended the call without a word, muttering to myself, “Unfortunately, I’m not in the penthouse anymore.”

Later that evening, I called Tobias, who had returned to the penthouse. “Did Lewis come looking for me?”

“Nope. It’s just me and my freedom now that you’re gone,” he joked.

“Great,” I replied, laughing weakly. “You can finally bring back all your usual women.”

“Ha, very funny,” Tobias shot back, but I hung up before he could nag me further.

Feeling restless, I stepped onto the balcony and scrolled through Instagram.

My heart sank when I came across a new post featuring Katrina and Lewis.

It was a photo of a beautiful bouquet with a man’s silhouette behind it. Though his face was not visible, I recognized Lewis immediately.

What enraged me more was the caption, [After fifteen years, I return to you. And here, the flower blooms, a welcome in all its glory.]

Disgusted, I shut my phone and forced myself to focus on my college assignments.

The next day, fate dealt me another cruel hand. As I excused myself during lunch with my college friends, I bumped into Katrina on my way to the restroom.

She greeted me with a warm smile, her voice syrupy sweet. “Didn’t expect to see you here, little sister. Lewis and I just came from the playground where we used to play as kids.

“But then we got hungry, so I stopped by this restaurant near his campus.”

Her words, though innocent on the surface, dripped with an undercurrent of triumph. Fate was not just cruel, it was merciless.

I gave her a polite smile and was about to leave, not considering our relationship close enough for small talk.

But she did not seem to feel the same. Just as I turned to go, her voice stopped me again.

“Anyway, you go to Lewis’s campus too, huh? But have you guys ever eaten together there?”

The word also made me pause.

The truth was, we never had. Lewis had always avoided it.

He once said that eating together on campus might risk running into his old friends, which could complicate our relationship.

So instead, we would always eat at restaurants far away.

Even then, I remembered the day we accidentally ran into Lewis’s friends at an arcade.

He had waved it off, telling them he was just accompanying his friend’s younger sister to win a prize from the claw machine.

That moment had stung deeply, but I had tried to understand. I thought perhaps it was just a way to keep our private relationship safe.

But then, as I stood there with Katrina, the truth burned painfully in my chest. He did not care about the secrecy itself; he was embarrassed about me.

Because when it came to Katrina, there were no excuses, no evasions, and certainly no concern about being seen together.

He was not even afraid of being caught by me. He did not care.