Stella found herself resenting everything Celine liked, including the necklace Dominic had just given her. It felt like a symbol of someone else's love—someone else's devotion—something she no longer wanted. Standing there, she lowered her gaze, subtly distancing herself from him.
With a long, tired sigh, she finally spoke. "It's late, Dominic. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
Behind her, she heard his voice soften, still pleading. "Stella, you know Celine has depression... please, try to understand."
His words hit her like a dull ache. They were a reminder of everything she had sacrificed.
Dominic continued, attempting to soften the blow. "Once Celine gets better, I'll be able to be with you all the time."
Stella swallowed hard, the bitterness rising in her throat. "There won't be a future."
...
The next morning, Stella woke early, the weight of the previous night still lingering. She didn't waste any time overthinking it. Instead, she headed straight to the hair salon.
The dark green waves that had once been Dominic's request—his preference—were gone. She was back to her natural black, straight hair. The hair she had always loved, the one that felt like her.
She spent the rest of the day shopping for clothes she liked—clothes that made her feel like herself, not someone else's idea of who she should be. No more spaghetti straps. No more pretending to fit into a mold that was never hers.
It felt liberating.
But then, as she scrolled through her phone, her stomach sank when she saw a notification for Celine's live stream. She froze. She knew exactly what it meant.
More of Dominic, Celine, and everything she was trying to forget.
With a resigned sigh, she canceled all the accounts related to Celine. The streams were always the same—Celine, with Dominic by her side, always playing the part of the perfect couple. He'd even declared Celine his "personal assistant," promising to protect her from anyone who might hurt her.
But to Stella, the most painful part wasn't the promises. It was the way Dominic would always talk about her.
"I'll take care of you. You don't need to work," he'd say. The words cut deeper than any betrayal.
Stella shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside. She was done with Dominic. Done with Celine.
Or so she thought.
...
As she turned a corner in the mall, she nearly bumped into them.
There they were—Dominic and Celine—laughing together as they shopped. Dominic was carrying several shopping bags, his eyes soft with affection, his smile warm and easy.
And Celine? She was live-streaming, of course, beaming at the camera, looking every bit the picture-perfect couple.
Stella's stomach twisted. She glanced down at her phone, her thumb scrolling absent-mindedly.
Ten minutes ago, Dominic sent her a message:
[I'm working, I'll bring you something delicious tonight.]
'Working? Shopping with Celine, eating, live-streaming?' Stella huffed in frustration
The absurdity of it all hit her in a wave, and she couldn't help but laugh—bitterly and loud enough to draw attention.
Celine noticed her first, waving at her with a wide smile as if she hadn't just witnessed Dominic comforting Stella earlier.
Dominic faltered for a moment, and then his expression hardened. He frowned. "Why did you dye your hair back?" His voice was laced with disapproval, though it sounded more like a complaint than genuine concern.
Stella didn't even glance at Celine's camera. She wasn't about to be part of their little performance. "I like it this way," she said flatly, keeping her tone neutral, her heart completely detached.
Without waiting for a response, she added, "I won't disturb your live-stream," before turning on her heel and leaving them behind.
Dominic watched her leave, his gaze darkening for a moment. But as his eyes moved to Celine, his expression softened. He smiled almost reassuringly.
"It's fine. Stella won't mind," he said, though the words seemed more for his own benefit than anyone else's.
Celine, who had already turned off the stream, looked up at Dominic, her eyes glistening with feigned concern.
"Nicky, Stella seems upset. It's all my fault." Her voice wavered, dripping with needy desperation. "But... I only have you. You can't leave me."
Dominic, as always, softened at her pleas. He pulled Celine into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "It's okay, Celine. Don't worry, I'm here for you."
Stella stood there, watching the scene unfold from afar. It felt like a punch to the gut. For a moment, she couldn't even tell who was supposed to be Dominic's real girlfriend anymore.
But, honestly? It didn't matter.
Soon, she wouldn't be anyone's girlfriend at all. And Dominic, she realized with a sudden clarity, wasn't worth her love.
...
A week later, as she prepared to return to the capital, Stella decided it was time to pack up her room—time to remove the last remnants of the life she was leaving behind.
Her room was filled with things Dominic had chosen for her and things he'd bought. The small spaghetti straps he'd insisted she wear. The luxury gifts he'd given her...
