There was a time when he'd protected me like that too.
Tears fell before I could stop them.
Allan shielded Pauline from every scare the staff threw at them, holding her hand as they made it out of the haunted house together.
Pauline shook his hand off and pouted, her voice syrupy sweet.
"Do you take care of your girlfriend like this too?"
I lowered my eyes and shook my head slowly.
The only time Allan ever protected me was when we were kidnapped as kids. I'd covered his escape and gotten my leg broken for it, then locked in a dark room. After I was rescued, he'd stayed by my bedside day and night, never even changing out of his clothes.
In the seven years we'd been together since, he never took care of me again.
When I got sick, he went out drinking with friends.
When I was in a car accident, he called to yell at me for being brainless.
Even last year, when I had my heart transplant — a surgery with only a ten percent success rate — I was terrified I'd die without seeing him one last time. I begged him to be there with me.
Allan skipped it to throw a birthday party for his ex.
Only after hearing Allan's denial did Pauline let him hold her hand again.
The viewers in the livestream had no interest in watching the two of them being lovey-dovey. Within minutes, more than half of them had left.
A spark lit behind Pauline's eyes. She latched onto Allan's arm, swinging it playfully.
"I heard you and your girlfriend are about to get engaged. Why don't you take me to see the place you two picked out?"
I threw my arms out in front of Allan, blocking his path.
"No! My dad renovated that house with his own hands!"
Every brick, every coat of paint — it was all poured from my father's love for me. He'd pushed himself so hard to build my dream home that he'd wrecked his back, left in so much pain he could barely stand straight.
How dare Allan let someone else trample over my father's labor of love?
I fought to stop him with everything I had, but my body passed through Allan again and again.
He drove Pauline to the apartment.
The viewer count in the livestream doubled.
"Oh my God, this is insane. How is this not basically sneaking his side piece into the love nest?"
"What are you even saying? The fact that he's willing to bring Pauline there proves she's the woman he truly loves."
"Don't you people understand what true love means?"
Pauline's eyes curved into crescents. She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to Allan's cheek.
"See? The one who isn't loved is the real other woman."
"Don't be jealous of me, everyone."
I shook with fury, wishing I could wrench the steering wheel and send this shameless pair straight to hell.
But I couldn't. All I could do was watch, powerless, as Allan unlocked the door to our home.
Pauline squealed, holding the camera up as she rushed into the living room. She ran her fingers along the elegant coffee table, then flopped onto the plush sofa.
"It's so pretty!"
My dad had specially installed a projector on the ceiling. The moment the lights came on, it would cast a starry sky across the walls.
I threw myself at Allan, begging him to make her leave.
"Get out! You're not welcome here!"
A sharp crack pierced my ears. I spun around.
Pauline stuck her tongue out playfully, pointing at the shattered ceramic on the floor.
"Sorry. I bumped into it by accident."
My mind went blank.
I dropped to my knees, fingers trembling as I tried to piece the broken ceramic doll back together.
My mother had made it with me and my dad the day before she died.
She told me the ceramic doll would stay with me forever in her place.
Tears burst from me like a dam breaking. I cradled the fragments and sobbed until no sound came out.
Allan glanced at the mess on the floor, barely sparing it a look, and swept every last piece into the trash.
"No..."
But he couldn't hear me.
Even if he could, he wouldn't have cared.
I sat slumped on the floor, eyes hollow, wishing I could dissolve into nothing right then and there — so I could find my mother and tell her I was sorry.
