After college, Frederick was placed in the Sanchez family's company.
And just like that, our engagement became official.
The moment we were engaged, I threw myself into being the perfect fiancée.
Every day I was in the kitchen, poring over recipes.
They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
I had zero talent for it.
The things I made weren't just bad. They were barely edible.
I nearly blew up the kitchen.
Frederick came home from work that evening to a smoke-filled kitchen and me sitting in the wreckage, hair a mess, face streaked with grease.
He crouched down and ruffled my hair, all warmth.
「Silly. I'm not marrying you so you can be my chef.」
I pouted, feeling sorry for myself.
「But I can't do anything right.」
I still remember exactly what he said next.
He said, 「If you could do everything, what would you need me for?」
We were together after that.
Really, truly together—meals at the same table, falling asleep in the same bed, wandering through shops on weekends, catching movies with our fingers laced.
Like any of a million couples who believed they were in love.
I thought he'd finally fallen for me.
Then Felicity came back.
And everything reset to zero.
First Frederick stopped coming home on time.
Then came the lipstick on his collar.
It took exactly one week.
After that, Felicity sent me a photo of the two of them together.
I cried. I fought. I fell apart over it.
I grabbed Frederick by the collar and demanded to know why.
Weren't we fine?
Why did everything change the second Felicity came back?
He frowned and pushed me aside.
「Gwendolen, what are you throwing a fit about? Felicity's just a high school classmate.」
Right. Just a high school classmate.
A high school classmate who became his personal secretary the moment she returned.
A high school classmate who only had to call once, and no matter what he was doing, he'd drop everything and go.
The day I was hospitalized with pneumonia, I called him. I just wanted him there.
His voice was flat, distant. 「I'm not a doctor, Gwendolen. Me showing up isn't going to cure you.」
「Stop acting like a child. I'm busy with work.」
But that same night, I saw it on Felicity's page—the two of them at a candlelit dinner, her caption reading: 【All those detours, and it was always you.】
I screamed until my throat burned.
I called Valentine in tears, sobbing out every accusation against Frederick.
Before, whenever I went to his father, Frederick would show up. Valentine would make sure of it.
He always came.
But this time, after I hung up the phone,
the person who walked through my hospital door wasn't Frederick. It was Herman Sanchez, Frederick's cousin.
He wore a light blue button-down and loose jeans, an easy half-smile on his face. Nothing like Frederick at all.
Frederick's closet held exactly two colors: black and white.
He said it was practical. Easy to match.
Anything else was too loud, not his style.
I stared at Herman for a long time.
Long enough that he had to snap his fingers in front of my face to bring me back.
「Uncle Valentine said you were scared, so he sent me to keep you company.」
He propped his chin on one hand and tilted his head, watching me.
「Tell me what's got you so frightened. I'm right here.」
That night, Herman stayed with me until morning.
All the way through to my discharge.
He drove me home.
And the first thing I saw when I walked through the door was Felicity padding barefoot out of the master bedroom in Frederick's shirt.
I pointed straight at her, half out of my mind, and demanded Frederick answer me.
「Why is she in our home?」
「Why is she wearing your clothes?」
「Why is she coming out of our bedroom?」
