Milla POV
“Why does everything always go wrong for me? No one understands,” Emilia murmured, tears welling in her eyes.
Alfa gently placed his hands on her shoulders, offering a comforting squeeze.
“Em, please don't cry. You're not alone—you have me.”
He turned to me, seeking affirmation.
“Right, Milla?”
“Of course,” I replied, my voice devoid of warmth.
Emilia looked up, hope flickering in her eyes.
“Then... could I stay at your place for a while?”
“Stay as long as you need,” Alfa interjected before I could respond.
He always went above and beyond for Emilia, regardless of how it made me feel.
Did he realize the pain it caused me? Or did he choose to ignore it?
“In that case, could you help me pack before my landlord throws out my stuff?”
They hurried off, Alfa's hand protectively on Emilia's waist. After a few steps, he paused and turned back.
“I have to go. It's important. If there's anything you want to tell me, just text me, okay?”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
“It's nothing urgent. Go ahead.”
I watched them leave, swallowing the words I had intended to say—the words about ending our relationship.
Emilia's problems took precedence over everything else in Alfa's world.
The next day passed without a single message from him.
Feeling discarded, I decided it was time to move on.
I spent the morning packing away memories of Alfa—bags, clothes, gifts—all destined for donation.
As I handed the boxes to the workers, a delivery truck pulled up.
Alfa and Emilia stepped out, approaching me.
“Milla, you're not at work?” Alfa asked, feigning surprise.
“Not feeling well,” I replied, quickly hiding the donation receipt, “What brings you here?”
Before they could answer, a mover inquired about Emilia's new apartment.
They headed upstairs, leaving me behind.
To my astonishment, Emilia had rented the unit next to mine.
Her new furniture, still wrapped in plastic, was luxurious, unlike anything Alfa had ever bought for me.
“Your home should be your sanctuary,” he once told me.
So, this was why he took the day off—a rarity when it came to me.
“Miss, you dropped this,” a worker said, handing me the donation receipt.
Alfa glanced at it, then at me.
“Donating something?”
“Just some old clothes,” I replied, folding the paper and tossing it into the trash.
“By the way, what did you want to tell me yesterday?”
Before I could answer, Emilia emerged, beaming.
“Hi, Milla! We're neighbors now!”
She extended her hand, but I hesitated.
“Sorry, my hands are dirty,” I said, avoiding her gaze.
“Alfa thought it would be good for me to be close to someone kind like you, at least until I find a new job.”
Or perhaps it made it easier for him to see us both.
“I'll be busy with college and research, Emilia. I might not be around much.”
I turned to enter my flat, but Emilia's sobs stopped me. Alfa wrapped his arms around her, whispering soothing words.
“I'll handle everything. Don't cry,” he said, casting a sharp glance in my direction.
Emilia nodded, wiping her tears.
“Milla, don't you see how hard things are for Emilia? She lost her job, and you're too busy to be a good neighbor!”
Emilia stepped back, shaking her head.
“It's not Milla's fault, Alfa. He's important and busy. I must seem like a burden to him. It's natural if she resents me.”
“Oh, Emy, come on. I already consider you like a sister. It's just Milla who misplaced her jealousy.”
Emilia's sobs intensified as she clung to Alfa. I stood there, the invisible third wheel, watching my partner embrace another woman right before my eyes.
Alfa's voice cut through the tension. “Most women are empathetic to another's pain, Milla. But you? You're just... indifferent.”
I bit my tongue, knowing any defense would be twisted against me. Without a word, I turned and walked toward my apartment.
“Milla!” Alfa's shout echoed down the hallway. “You're just going to walk away? Is this how an educator behaves? Shame on you!”
The movers paused, their eyes darting between us. Humiliation burned my cheeks.
I stopped, turned slightly, and said, “I didn't realize you were speaking to me. Your attention seemed... elsewhere.”
“Milla, I was comforting Emilia!”
“Alfa, please,” Emilia interjected, her voice trembling. “Don't let me come between you two.”
As she stepped back, tears streaming down her face, Alfa grabbed her hand and marched toward me.
“Apologize to Emilia,” he demanded, eyes blazing.
I looked at Emilia, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Apologize? For what? I haven't insulted her.”
“You've made her cry!”
“Because I didn't drop everything to comfort her? Alfa, I have responsibilities. If she needs constant company, perhaps you should hire someone.”
“Milla!” His hand rose, but Emilia swiftly stepped between us.
“Don't,” she whispered. “Milla's right. I'm imposing.”
Alfa's finger pointed inches from my face. “You're the coldest woman I've ever known. How did I end up with someone so heartless?”
His words pierced deeper than any blade.
Emilia's sobs resumed as Alfa led her into her new apartment, leaving me standing alone, painted as the villain.
Back in my nearly empty apartment, I watched the last mover leave, leaving Emilia and Alfa alone next door. The thought gnawed at me.
Jealousy and despair clouded my mind. I feared it would affect my lectures, my students.
I needed help.
The psychiatrist listened patiently as I poured out my heart. Her advice was grounding.
Later, seeking solace, I visited a café, hoping a cappuccino might lift my spirits.
But fate had other plans.
There they were—Alfa and Emilia—sharing lunch. He fed her bites, her laughter ringing out as she leaned into him.
I sighed, the weight of it all pressing down.
Nearby, a woman whispered to her friend, “Isn't it lovely to have such a caring boyfriend? He must never hurt her.”
If only she knew.
