The sudden heat startled me out of my thoughts.
When I blinked my eyes open, someone was holding me from behind. Dorian’s arms were firm around my waist, his chest warm against my back. His breath skimmed the curve of my ear as he spoke softly, almost apologetically.
“About last night… I know I wasn’t there,” he murmured. “Work piled up, that’s all. Let me make it right today. How about we go out later?”
Before I could answer, his lips brushed my cheek in a gentle, lingering kiss—the kind that used to melt me. Then he slipped something cold and smooth into my palm.
I glanced down. An emerald pendant rested there, its deep green surface catching the light.
“I owe you more than an apology for forgetting our anniversary,” he continued as he clasped it around my neck. “After we’re married, I’ll finally take you to the Maldives. You’ve dreamed about it for years.”
My lips curved into a faint smile, but my throat felt too tight to speak.
He stepped away and returned with a breakfast tray balanced carefully in his hands—scrambled eggs, toasted bread, a glass of juice. “Look, I even cooked,” he said, clearly proud of himself as he set it down in front of me.
If this were the past—back when we lived in that shabby little apartment and he saved coins just to buy me a cheap ring—I would have been overjoyed. I would have thrown my arms around him, telling him he was all I needed.
But now?
I just went through the motions. I poked at the food. I smiled when he looked at me. I pretended everything was fine.
Because I could feel it in my bones—our love had already shattered.
Then his phone rang.
The name glowing on the screen was one I recognized instantly. Yvette.
He glanced at me once before answering. “It’s business,” he said casually. “I’ll see you tonight. Put on the outfit I sent.”
And just like that, he was gone, coat in hand, his familiar scent lingering in the room like a memory I couldn’t hold onto anymore.
The silence afterward felt unbearable.
I shoved the tray aside and walked to the wardrobe. I opened every drawer, every hidden corner, dragging out the relics of our past—handwritten letters, cheap souvenirs, the flimsy ring he once bought while juggling five jobs, dried flowers from days when we couldn’t afford bouquets.
I gathered them all into a box. They had once meant everything. Now, they only reminded me of how much I had lost.
I slid the box out of sight. When I left, none of this would come with me.
That evening, I dressed in the gown Dorian had chosen and fastened the emerald necklace around my neck. I styled my hair the way he liked, painted my lips the shade he always complimented. I told myself it would just be the two of us tonight—that maybe he was finally trying again.
But the moment I entered the restaurant, my heart sank.
Yvette was already seated.
“Well, this is awkward,” she said with a bright smile. “Same dress, same necklace. Looks like we have identical taste.”
My voice barely came out. “Why are you here?”
Dorian cut in before she could answer. “There’s a client meeting tonight. Yvette happened to be nearby, so she joined us. She was hungry anyway.”
“I thought this was supposed to be our dinner,” I said quietly.
He sighed in annoyance. “Don’t start, Camille. I’ve had a long day. Sit down and eat.”
So I did.
The dishes were served. Out of habit, I waited for him to place my plate in front of me like he used to—but instead, he set it in front of Yvette, smiling as he adjusted it for her.
Then came the seafood platter.
The smell made my stomach twist. A memory flashed—years ago, my throat closing, my body breaking out in hives, Dorian sitting beside my hospital bed after I’d nearly died from an allergic reaction.
How could he forget something like that?
He looked at me, confused. “Why aren’t you touching your food? Isn’t this what you like?”
Yvette leaned closer, smirking. “It’s my favorite too.”
“I can’t…” I whispered. “I’m allergic.”
But his phone rang again, and he stepped away without hearing me.
Yvette didn’t waste the chance.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” she said quietly. “He’s turning you into me. Same clothes, same jewelry—so he doesn’t feel guilty about settling. Your necklace isn’t even real. Mine is. He gives me the originals—you get the knockoffs.”
I said nothing.
She smiled coldly. “Do yourself a favor and disappear. You don’t belong in our world.”
I met her eyes. “Then I’ll leave.”
I stood, but she suddenly cried out, kicking her chair and tipping her bowl.
“My leg—she burned me!” Yvette screamed.
Dorian rushed back instantly. “What happened?!”
“She lost her temper and hurt me,” Yvette sobbed.
“That’s not true!” I protested.
He glared at me. “She makes a living with her legs, Camille! And you think you can just ruin them?!”
Then he grabbed the hot plate and pressed it against my thigh.
The pain was unbearable. I screamed.
“Now you know how it feels,” he said coldly.
I collapsed as he carried Yvette away, her face buried in his shoulder—smiling at me over his arm.
And I was left there alone.
