The memory of that night never leaves me, though I’ve tried to bury it under all the noise of the world. By the time everything collapsed, I was only twenty years old, and my life had already been dictated by other people’s choices.

It began with my family’s downfall. The company my father built, the legacy my mother believed in—it all crumbled under debts we could never repay. At the center of our ruin stood Lucien Draemir, a man already feared in the world of business though he was only twenty-seven. He had the kind of aura that silenced rooms: sharp gaze, calculated words, the ability to ruin or save with the flick of a hand. And when he offered us a way out, his demand was simple, brutal, and inescapable.

“Your daughter marries me,” he said, calm as though he were discussing the weather.

I signed the marriage contract with hands that trembled so violently the pen nearly slipped. I thought that was the end of me—that I had just bartered away my freedom for survival.

But marriage to Lucien was nothing like what I expected. He wasn’t cruel, nor did he raise his voice. He never laid a hand on me in anger, never treated me as if I were an inconvenient weight shackled to him. Slowly, imperceptibly, I began to see pieces of a man who seemed almost tender.

He booked a flight to Paris just so I could watch the Eiffel Tower glitter against the night sky. He discovered my love for rare books and gifted me first editions, wrapped carefully as though he’d spent weeks searching. One summer, he whisked me away on a yacht to Santorini, simply because I once confessed I dreamed of sunsets by the sea. When illness struck me down, he filled my nightstand with flowers and soup that tasted like home.

I didn’t mean to fall for him. But I did. Bit by bit, gesture by gesture, I slipped into love like it was the only choice left to me.

By our third wedding anniversary, I wanted to show him he was more than an obligation—that I chose him too. I arranged a dinner by the shore: flickering candles, the rhythm of the tide as our background music, his favorite wine breathing in the salt-tinged air. For the first time, I thought we could have a night that belonged only to us.

But fate doesn’t ask permission before it shatters everything.

The sound of high heels striking wood tore through the calm like a drumbeat of war. A woman appeared, tall and poised, her presence heavy enough to choke me. She crossed the deck as though she owned not just the villa but the entire horizon. Without hesitation, she flung a bundle of bills onto the table, scattering the candlelight I had so carefully set.

“Remove yourself from Lucien’s life,” she declared, voice cold and sharp. “Your part in his story is over.”

I stood frozen. “I—I don’t even know who you are.”

Her eyes glittered with disdain. “Selene. His first love. Years ago, he proposed. I turned him down because I had ambitions too big to waste on marriage. But I’ve come back. And now that I’m here, you can leave.”

Her words pressed against me like a blade. “No. I’m his wife. I love him.”

Selene’s laugh was cruel. “How naïve. Do you honestly believe he loves you back?”

I wanted to shout yes. I wanted to tell her she hadn’t seen him cradle me through tears, or laugh when I ruined breakfast, or watch me with eyes that softened even when the rest of the world saw only his ruthless edge. But the certainty caught in my throat.

Selene leaned closer, her perfume a suffocating cloud. “Let’s settle this. A simple test. I’ll message him, tell him I’ve returned. You tell him you’re hurt. We’ll see who he runs to.”

I blinked, horrified. “That’s insane.”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached for the knife on the table. Before I could react, a line of fire ripped across my wrist. I gasped, clutching the wound as blood seeped through my fingers.

“You—you cut me!”

“Call it proof,” she said coolly. “Make it convincing. Tell him you’re bleeding, you need him. Meanwhile, I’ll tell him I’ve come back. We’ll discover where his loyalty lies.”

“You’re psychotic.”

“No,” she corrected, her lips twisting into something darker. “I’m certain. The only one who should be terrified is you.”

My pulse raced as tears burned behind my eyes. Still, I managed to type the message, fingers trembling over the screen: Lucien, I’m hurt. Please come. I need you. I even attached a photo of the blood trailing down my wrist, praying it would shatter whatever distance had grown between us.

Minutes crawled like hours. The silence between us buzzed with tension. Then, at last, a phone rang.

Selene’s screen lit up. Her smile spread like poison. “Ah, here we are.”

She answered on speaker.

“Selene?” Lucien’s voice spilled out, raw with joy. “My God, it’s really you. I’ve missed you every second. Where are you? I’ll come to you immediately.”

The air was sucked from my lungs.

Selene’s eyes gleamed as she taunted, “Today’s your anniversary. Shouldn’t you be with Elowen?”

Lucien chuckled, careless. “She’s irrelevant. Convenient, nothing more. With you back, she means nothing. I’ll explain something to her—she won’t care anyway.”

The words landed heavier than the wound on my wrist. Everything in me crumpled, hollowing into silence.

Selene tilted her head, mock pity dripping from her tone. “Still want to insist he loves you?”

I wanted to scream, but only a whisper left me. “But he was good to me. He gave me Paris, books, sunsets, flowers—”

“Things he first gave me,” Selene snapped. “You were never special.”

My tears blurred the world. “But he chose me. He married me.”

Her smirk widened. “And yet, he chooses me now. That tells you all you need to know. Walk away.”

She turned, heels clattering into the night, leaving me bleeding, humiliated, and utterly hollow.

I stared at the table I had decorated with so much hope. The candles still fought against the breeze. The sea kept shimmering as though mocking me. Nothing outside had changed, but everything inside me had broken beyond repair.

My phone screen remained empty. No reply. No call. Nothing.

At last, with shaking hands, I typed one final message: Happy anniversary.

I didn’t wait for his response. Instead, I scrolled through my contacts until I found a number I hadn’t dialed in years.

When the voice answered, calm and steady, I said, “Professor Idris? I’ve made my decision. I’ll accept the scholarship abroad.”

I sat motionless, knees pulled tightly against my chest as the night grew heavier and darker. Beside me, my phone lay abandoned next to the untouched meal I had spent hours preparing, its dim screen casting a faint glow in the shadows.

Maybe he was just delayed… Maybe he was already on his way. Maybe, despite everything I had just witnessed and heard, he would still choose me.

Clinging to that fragile hope, I typed one more message with trembling hands.

“I’m waiting here, Lucien. I set all of this up for us. Please come…”

Silence.

The wind grew colder, brushing against my skin, but I stayed frozen. I tried calling him, my fingers quivering so badly I almost dropped the phone. The line rang once before an automated voice echoed: “The number you dialed is currently unreachable.”

Unreachable.

I blinked, my chest sinking further into despair. That was it, wasn’t it? The illusion was finally shattered. He wasn’t on his way. He had never planned to be. To him, I had never been important—only useful. Just as he had admitted to Selene.

Why hadn’t I realized it sooner? Why did I allow myself to be deceived, to believe that the man who once stood beside me beneath the Eiffel Tower, who whispered sweet promises while we lay on the yacht under the stars, could have truly loved me?

My vision blurred with tears as I rose, carefully clearing away what remained of the dream I had tried to preserve.

I drove away in silence, each breath growing heavier, the world outside melting into streaks of color through my tears. The headlights and neon signs bled together, distorted by the water in my eyes.

I didn’t see the car until it was too late.

The screech of metal twisting, the shattering of glass—then everything collapsed into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, pain roared through every inch of me. It felt as though my body had been ripped apart and crudely pieced back together with burning wire.

“Don’t try to move too much, Mrs. Draemir,” a nurse’s gentle voice urged. “You’ve got stitches, some fractured bones… Honestly, you’re lucky you survived.”

Survived. The word felt like a cruel joke.

“Where…” My throat was raw, my voice cracked. “Where is my husband? Lucien Draemir… did he know what happened?”

The nurse paused, adjusting the IV line in my arm with careful hands. “We informed him right away. He didn’t come. But… he did send his butler to settle all the hospital expenses.”

My chest twisted painfully. “Only the butler?”

The nurse gave a small nod, then offered me a mobile phone. “Maybe you should try calling him yourself.”

With shaking fingers, I dialed his number.

One ring… two… three… then voicemail.

I tried again.

Still voicemail.

And again.

Nothing.

The realization hit harder than the crash itself—I was truly, utterly alone.

I stared blankly at the sterile wall ahead, until the television in the corner shifted to a news update. At first I didn’t care, barely listening—until the names cut through me like a blade.

“Lucien Draemir, heir of the Draemir conglomerate, was spotted dining at La Maison with renowned fashion designer Selene Arvale.”

My head jerked toward the screen. A video played: Lucien beside Selene, her laughter bright, her hand casually placed over his chest as he smiled down at her. His eyes sparkled—alive, warm, radiant.

In a way he had never once looked at me.

The reporter’s voice continued, “Insiders suggest the two may be rekindling their romance after years apart. Witnesses say they appeared deeply affectionate…”

I turned away quickly, tears stinging my eyes.

He hadn’t even bothered to check if I survived the accident.

The days that followed blurred together in a haze of numbness. I lay in that hospital bed surrounded by bouquets sent by acquaintances and strangers—but never one from him. Doctors rotated in and out, nurses offered sympathetic smiles. But the man I had married, the one I had once believed cherished me, never came.

Meanwhile, Selene’s social media overflowed with updates: pictures of spa days, cocktails by the beach, shopping trips. In every photo, Lucien was right beside her—laughing, smiling, showering her with attention.

And in each post, she tagged him boldly, flaunting it for the world. He never hid it, never denied it.

I watched it all with empty eyes, too drained to cry anymore.

The day I was finally discharged, a message came from my professor.

“Your scholarship has been approved. Your flight leaves in 10 days. Please prepare accordingly.”

I circled the date on my calendar as soon as I returned home.

But the word home no longer felt true.

The moment I stepped inside, I sensed something wrong. The lights were glaringly bright, and the sound of music and laughter drifted from the backyard. Curious and wary, I followed the noise, limping slightly.

What I found made my blood run cold.

A celebration. Loud music. Glasses clinking. Lucien in the center of it all, surrounded by friends, carefree as though nothing had happened. As though his wife hadn’t nearly died days before. As though I didn’t exist.

No one even noticed my return.

I was about to retreat quietly to my room when I heard one of his friends—Ethan, I remembered faintly—snicker and shout over the music:

“So, Lucien, how are you planning to get rid of that pathetic excuse of a wife, Elowen, now that Selene’s back in the picture?”

I should have turned away right then. I should have gone to my room, bolted the door shut, and refused to hear another word. But my body betrayed me. My legs refused to move.

I remained frozen in the dim hallway, a shadow among shadows, while the voices and laughter carried from the backyard. Each burst of amusement cut into me like blades, sharper with every strike. But the sound that hurt most—the one that split me apart—was Lucien’s.

“Well, I haven’t really decided yet,” he said in a careless tone, as though he were pondering what to do with a broken object he no longer valued. “Maybe I’ll send her off somewhere far, or… who knows. She’s obedient enough. Always trailing after me like a dog. So maybe I’ll just keep her around.”

The group roared with laughter.

My chest tightened until breathing felt impossible. A part of me wanted to scream, to cover my ears, to block it out—but I stood there rooted to the floor while my spirit fractured piece by piece.

Then another voice—probably his closest friend—snorted. “Won’t that piss Selene off, though? Be serious, Lucien. You waited for her for seven whole years. You even flew to London month after month just for a glimpse of her. And now you’re going to let Elowen linger around? You’ve spoiled her so much she probably thinks you actually care about her.”

I held my breath, desperate, praying for him to deny it.

But Lucien only laughed.

“Care about her? Don’t make me laugh. Elowen means nothing. She’s just someone who keeps my bed warm at night.” His tone turned colder than ice. “Selene—Selene is the one I love. She’s the woman I plan to marry. I’ll give her the world.”

The hollow crack in my chest splintered wide open. It felt like something inside me was tearing, raw and jagged.

I had been nothing but a fool.

“Speaking of Elowen,” another voice piped up, half amused, half curious. “Didn’t she just get into some car accident? Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of her?”

Lucien chuckled, utterly unconcerned. “Oh, that? My butler handled it. I was busy putting together this party for my Selene.”

For a heartbeat, I swore my soul left my body.

And then Selene arrived. The sharp rhythm of her heels against the patio tiles echoed like a death sentence. Her voice, smooth as honey, wrapped around him as she approached. “Thank you for throwing this party, Lucien… but I think I’d like some private time with you. What do you say?”

His laugh was light, indulgent, enchanted. “You know I could never refuse you.”

He stood, offered her his hand, and together they vanished inside.

I stumbled backward, tears spilling freely down my face, my mouth gaping in a soundless cry.

I fled to my room, slammed the door shut, and twisted the lock with shaking fingers. But even there, the walls could not protect me.

The hallway filled with sounds I wished I could erase—their moans, their ragged breaths, the unmistakable noise of intimacy. The very closeness I had once believed was mine alone.

And all I could do was collapse and weep.

The night dragged endlessly, until sunlight seeped through the curtains. That was when my door suddenly burst open.

Ice-cold water drenched me, shocking me awake.

I gasped, choking, dripping, shivering uncontrollably. “What the hell?!”

Selene stood at the foot of my bed, wrapped in silk, a smirk curving her lips. “Didn’t I already tell you to leave?” she said mockingly, tossing the empty glass onto the floor as if it were garbage. “Why are you still here?”

I wiped water from my eyes, my hands trembling, my voice barely steady. “I wasn’t planning to stay,” I whispered. “I only came to collect my things. That’s all. I’ve already booked my ticket. I’ll be out of here in ten days.”

Selene crossed her arms, tilting her head as if she had just heard a joke. “Ten days?” she repeated with scorn. “So you actually think you’ll still be here for his birthday?”

I looked away, ashamed. “That’s just when my flight is scheduled. I don’t have anywhere else to stay until then. And if I suddenly disappear, Lucien might suspect something.”

She stepped closer, her perfume suffocating the air. “Of course—you still care about what he thinks. You still believe he’ll chase after you, don’t you? Pathetic.” Her voice dropped into a sharp edge.

“I suppose you don’t want me telling him that you’re the reason I had to leave.”

Anger flared through me. “What are you saying? That it’s somehow my fault you’re leaving? When we both know you’re the one who forced yourself back in here?”

Her hand flew up suddenly, poised to strike—

But the sound of approaching footsteps halted her.

Lucien appeared in the doorway, his shirt half-buttoned, hair tousled, eyes narrowing at the sight. “What’s going on?”

Selene whirled around instantly, her expression softening into a sweet smile. She slipped her arm through his as though nothing had happened. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she purred. “I just thought I should spend some time with your wife. Since I’ll be staying here now, I figured we could try to become friends.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

“She’s staying here?” I repeated, my voice breaking.

Lucien didn’t even glance at me. “Yes,” he replied coolly. “Selene is someone special to me. I expect you to treat her with respect. Serve her well.”

I stared at him in disbelief, words choking in my throat.

Selene leaned her head on his shoulder, feigning a yawn. “Speaking of being served… why don’t you cook us some breakfast? I’m starving.”

Together, they turned to leave. Just before disappearing down the hall, Lucien cast me a brief glance over his shoulder. “Don’t make us wait, Elowen.”

And then they were gone—laughing, whispering together.

Leaving me drenched, humiliated, and trembling in the wreckage.

I sank down on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the water pooling on the floorboards beneath me.

Ten days.

Only ten more days.