After I slips and falls in the bathroom, I calls out to my boyfriend, Jared Hammond, for help. But all he does is accuse me of trying to seduce him in my wet clothes.

"None of your tricks are going to work! I'm not touching you until Elsie graduates!" he yells.

He rushes out to help Elsie Sandberg—the younger sister of his first love, who passed away—with her thesis, ignoring my cries and slamming the door behind him.

The pain's so intense I nearly black out, but I manage to use the last of my strength to call an ambulance.

Later, the doctor tells me I've suffered a serious fracture and need to be hospitalized. I tried to call Jared over ten times, but he never picks up.

Then, I see Elsie's latest Instagram post. "Help! How do I win over a ridiculously hot professor?"

The photo shows Jared's hand resting on hers as he patiently walks her through her thesis proposal, again and again.

After being discharged from the hospital, I agreed to the marriage that Mom and Dad set up.

"Yeah. The sooner the wedding, the better," I said.

Mom seemed genuinely surprised. She was never fond of Jared Hammond, but she knew how much I loved him. If he hadn't broken my heart the way he did, I would've never let him go so easily.

Dad, who was also a professor, spoke up. "If you've decided to end it, at least talk it through with him. It's best to part on good terms."

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my chest and shook my head.

Just last week, while I was still in the hospital, Elsie Sandberg posted on Instagram. "A spontaneous getaway, all thanks to Professor Hammond's generous sponsorship."

The photo showed two suitcases side by side—one black, one pink. I recognized the black one right away. It was the limited-edition celebrity collab that I'd given Jared for his birthday this year.

I called to confront him, but he brushed me off. "Elsie's thesis focuses on traditional tapestry weaving. It's recognized as an intangible cultural heritage. I just took her to Saffbury for some research. As her advisor, I'm responsible for guiding her."

Right on cue, Elsie's voice drifted through the phone. "Professor Hammond, could you grab me a towel?"

Jared responded to her coolly, completely unfazed.

In the end, he said something that sounded like he was trying to soothe me, or maybe just looking for a way to justify what he'd done. "Willow, if it hadn't been for you back then, Eleanor would still be alive. Everything I'm doing now is helping you make up for what you did."

His words pierced straight through me, suffocating me. Even now, he was still holding onto the delusion that I was the one who got his first love, Eleanor Sandberg, killed.

If that's the case, why did he choose to date me in the first place? Was it just to waste three damn years of my life?

Every message I sent, demanding to know why, never reached Jared. I stared at the single gray checkmark after each message, and my vision started to blur.

He'd blocked me, just to keep me from ruining their little vacation.

I even begged his friend to call him for me, but all I got back was this. "Tell Willow to quit making a scene. Elsie's thesis is important. It affects her grad school admission. Once this trip's over, I'll give Willow the proposal she's been hoping for."

But he was wrong. No one would wait around forever.

I thought the guy I was supposed to marry would be suspicious or hesitant when I asked him to speed up the wedding. But to my surprise, he looked more worried that I might back out. His family even said they'd be happy to have the wedding as early as next week, if that was an option.

Mom and Dad asked me for my opinion, clearly nervous. I said yes without even thinking.

The only catch? Time was tight, and we still had a bunch of stuff to get done.

After dinner with Mom and Dad, I headed back to the house that Jared and I had shared for the past three years.

As soon as I unlocked the door and pushed it open, someone jumped out in front of me, blocking the doorway.

"Sir, whatever you need, just say the word and I'll—" Elsie, dressed in a maid outfit with bunny ears, stopped mid-sentence the moment she saw me. Or more accurately, the moment she realized I wasn't the person she'd been expecting.

I stared at the fishnet stockings hugging her legs, and the skirt that was so short that it barely did its job.

She was only eight years younger than me, but the way she radiated raw, unfiltered energy felt like one cruel joke, as if mocking just how dull and lifeless I'd let myself become.

"I'm sorry... Jared asked me to come. If you don't want me here, I'll leave right now." Elsie put on her best innocent face and started backing away, only to trip over a suitcase behind her. Right then, Jared sprang out from behind me, throwing himself over her like a human shield.

Once he'd made sure Elsie was okay, he immediately rounded on me. "Willow! Can't you cut her some slack? Elsie's still young. Why would you come at her like that?"

I watched their little performance with a cold, detached stare. "Young? She's 23, Jared! Who the hell shows up at someone's house dressed like that? She has no sense of decency, no manners, nothing!"

Jared's hand shot out, his palm striking me across the face. "Had enough of your tantrum? Not everyone grew up like you, Willow—well-off, sheltered, with everything handed to you on a silver platter!"

Elsie seized the moment and broke down in tears. "It's true. I'm sorry… I know I wasn't brought up properly… My parents died when I was born. There was no one to teach me how to be better… The only one who ever tried was Eleanor… and now she's gone too…"

She sobbed into Jared's chest, shaking as if she'd shattered. But when our eyes met, there was no mistaking the hatred hiding just beneath the surface.

"Elsie, none of this is your fault. It has nothing to do with you." Jared looked down at her, sympathy in his eyes. His hand lifted on instinct to wipe away her tears, but stopped halfway when he finally took in what she was wearing.

"Why are you dressed like this…" His voice faded, swallowing hard as desire smoldered in his gaze.

Elsie bit back a smirk. She dipped her head, feigning a shyness she didn't feel. "I've got a club event tomorrow night. It's just a costume for the performance. Professor Hammond, if it bothers you, I'll take it off right now!"

And with that, Elsie actually started to undress. Jared shot forward and grabbed her hands, stopping her. I might as well have been invisible.

"If it's for a performance, then there's nothing wrong with it." Jared shot me a pointed look. "Funny how it's always the ones with filthy minds who cry foul first."

I scoffed. As I watched Elsie put on her little show, all I could think about was the three years I'd wasted on this joke of a relationship.

After Eleanor died, I became Jared's girlfriend. But not once, in all that time, did he ever touch me.

I kept telling myself that grief took time, that if I waited long enough, his heart would open to me. But reality had other plans, and it hit hard.

The second Eleanor was gone, Elsie showed up to take her place.

To Jared, I was nothing more than a stand-in. I tried to take things further, wearing the skimpy outfits my best friend swore would work, hoping he'd finally want me. But he kept pulling away, and every time he looked at me, it was with a little more disgust in his eyes.

I thought maybe I wasn't captivating enough, so I signed up for dance lessons. But in the end, not even my graceful moves earned me a second glance from Jared.

Instead, every effort I made to please him got slapped with ugly labels like "scheming" and "desperate", straight from my own boyfriend's mouth.

All it took was a glimpse of Elsie's face, just enough to resemble Eleanor's, to stir something in Jared, the man who'd always seemed so distant.

Suddenly, everything I'd done felt like some kind of cruel joke. It wasn't that I wasn't enough. I just wasn't the one he'd been holding onto all along.