chapter 3

3.

The room fell silent—then Olivia reacted first. She snatched the phone from my hand.

"Amelia, come on—we're all adults here. Just bros joking around. Do you really need the cops?"

With a sly grin, she tapped her phone. "Ooh, and now I've got your contact! Scored the goddess's contact—nice!" She blew me a playful kiss.

She blew me a flirty kiss—and my stomach lurched as if I might vomit.

Not for a second did I believe Olivia actually liked me.

Laughter bubbled back up around them. Elijah gave a helpless little laugh, eyes soft, indulgent, approving.

"Let's drink," he said, raising his glass. "Thanks to Olivia for treating us tonight."

"Don't be silly," Elijah laughed, waving him off. "Like I'd ever let a girl pay."

She made a scene, and they laughed like it was a performance.

I wasn't the star of this gathering—Elijah and Olivia were.

I stormed out of the private room, desperate for air, desperate to be alone.

The thick, humid September night pressed against my skin like a damp blanket, making it hard to breathe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the tears.

A thousand miles from home—I'd come to Sterling City all for Elijah.

In college, we were the golden couple everyone envied.

After graduation, he landed a top job here, and I followed, taking a position at a hospital in the same city.

My parents had never liked him. I didn't care. I insisted. They relented.

We got engaged. Our wedding was next week.

"Amelia! Your phone!" Elijah's voice called out as he chased me, coaxing me back.

"Don't be so sensitive," he said, voice impatient. "Now Olivia's mad at me because of you. They're just brothers messing around. Olivia flirts with every hot girl—nothing serious. You stormed off so suddenly, she's crying, Amelia."

I stiffened.

"Just come back, apologize, and drop this drama. Otherwise…" His voice went cold. "…we might as well call off the wedding."

Something inside me shattered—loud, sudden, irreversible.

I hadn't even considered calling off the wedding… yet he'd tossed those words out so easily, all for Olivia.

Tears spilled before I could stop them. I screamed, raw and trembling.

"Then don't marry me! Marry her! We're not the same kind of people. I'll never fit into your world. Let's part ways—amicably—"

My words were cut off by a sharp ringtone.

Elijah pulled out his phone. Olivia's name flashed like a cruel taunt.

"You're still not calm," he said flatly. "Just go home."

Without another glance, he ran back inside—leaving me alone in the sweltering night, tears drying on my cheeks in the hot wind.

I didn't want to go home. I needed to scream, break something, feel anything but this hollow ache.

I booked a private room, cranked the music to the max, and let myself sob—ugly, gasping cries echoing off the walls.

Memories surged: thesis defense day, graduation, our dreams of a future together, him saying I'd suffered too much for him, buying our first apartment, painting walls, assembling furniture, curling up with takeout and movies, whispering about our wedding like it was sacred.

My chest tightened. Slowly, the storm inside me quieted.

I checked my phone.

2 a.m.

Dozens of alerts from the home security app—"Unknown face detected."

My blood ran cold. Had someone broken in?

I tapped the live feed, heart hammering—

And froze.

One hour ago, Elijah had walked into our apartment… with Olivia.