chapter 2

I spent the entire ride steeling myself. But the moment I pushed open the door of Brad's penthouse, a sharp pain cut through my chest.

It was alive with a raucous party. A crowd of stylish men and women were drinking, laughing, and dancing like the night would never end.

The bass-heavy music rattled the walls and pressed against my eardrums, making me nauseous.

I'd never liked loud, chaotic parties like this. Brad knew that, which is why he rarely invited me to join him or meet his friends. He used to call me uptight for it.

My gaze finally found him in the center of the crowd.

People paused when they noticed me. A flicker of surprise lit up their faces before being replaced with amusement. I could feel the whispers already beginning.

"Look out, Brad—Ellen's come to corner you into marriage again. Better run while you can!"

"Where's he going to go? This is his place."

"Well, can you blame her? She's getting older—time she found someone to settle down with."

Their voices dripped with mockery, each word like ice water down my body. Deeply humiliated, I didn't need a mirror to know how pale I looked.

I wanted to say something—tell them I was engaged, that I was getting married to someone else. But before I could, Brad's voice cut through the room with a sneer.

"Married? Who said anything about marriage?" He gave a dry laugh and raised his glass. "She's just playing pretend. Don't take it so seriously."

He took a sip of his drink, completely unbothered, not even trying to spare me any dignity.

The crowd roared with laughter, and whatever little respect they'd held for me vanished in that instant.

To them, I had never been more than Brad's on-call, ever-waiting simp—pathetic and disposable.

"Brad," I said, managing to steady my voice, "could you give back the emerald ring set I gave you?"

His eyes narrowed with cold amusement.

There was a time when moments like these would've brought tears to my eyes.

But not tonight. Tonight, I felt nothing.

His expression flinched slightly, barely noticeable—his grip on the glass tightening.

"You said we'd use those rings when we got married," he said, voice low, taunting. "What now? Can't get your way, so you're trying to guilt me instead?"

He chuckled and reached under the TV console, pulling out a small velvet box I knew too well.

The box was dusty—tossed carelessly aside, like it never meant anything. Like I never meant anything.

A gift once full of meaning, now abandoned in a dusty corner, as if it were just some useless trinket.

I looked away, blinking fast. The sting behind my eyes threatened to show, but I wouldn't let it.

Just as I was about to reach for the box, the door opened again. Everyone turned.

A young, delicate woman stood in the doorway, dressed in a white dress now soaked by rain.

The thin fabric clung to her figure, leaving little room for imagination.

Brad's expression darkened the moment he saw her.

Without a word, he stood and walked toward her, completely forgetting about me, the ring, everything.

He tossed the ring box aside without a second thought—it rolled under the couch and disappeared.

"You're soaked. Go change, or you'll catch a cold," he said softly. "There's a clean shirt of mine in the closet. Use that for now."

His friends burst out in cheers and teasing laughter.

"Looks like Lara finally made it!" someone shouted. "She's late, though. That means three penalty shots!"

Everyone laughed and cheered, completely forgetting I was still there.