Time seemed to stretch and warp as the porcelain vase hit the floor, shattering violently into countless jagged fragments. The ashes inside scattered across the tile like drifting shadows, carried on invisible currents.
For a fleeting moment, everything froze. Even the noise of the city beyond the apartment felt muted.
Then Selara let out a high-pitched, theatrical scream as she flailed backward, landing directly on the sharp shards.
“Argh!” she shrieked, her voice laced with pain—and maybe a little satisfaction.
A few slivers of glass had pierced her wrist, a thin line of blood trailing down her skin, and I barely had time to flinch before a searing pain shot through my own foot. A shard had found its way to me as well.
But nothing hurt more than seeing the remains of my father’s urn scattered across the floor, his ashes now strewn like wind-blown dust.
Before I could move, Kael lunged toward Selara, his arms wrapping around her in frantic protection. “Selara! Stay with me! Are you okay?” His tone was sharp, panicked, desperate.
And then, in an instant, his gaze snapped toward me. Rage twisted his handsome features.
“Why would you bring something so dangerous into this house? Look at what you’ve done! Did you mean to hurt her, Railey?!”
I froze.
Did he just call my father’s urn “dangerous”?
He didn’t ask what had happened. He didn’t even glance at me to see the pain etched into my own skin, the glass embedded in my foot. He didn’t care that Selara had fallen on it deliberately. He only saw the opportunity to blame me.
Selara whimpered softly, curling closer to him. Her breath hitched and her eyes rolled back before she fainted entirely.
“Selara? Selara!” Kael’s voice cracked as he shook her gently, then lifted her into his arms without even a look at me. He stormed toward the door, the weight of urgency propelling him forward.
But before he disappeared from the apartment, he shot me one last, searing glare.
“If anything happens to her,” he hissed, “you’ll pay the consequences, Railey.”
I stood frozen, surrounded by shards and my father’s scattered ashes, the cold of the tile pressing against my knees, and yet Kael didn’t care. He didn’t see me, bleeding and shaken. He only cared about Selara, the girl who had engineered her fall for attention.
A hollow emptiness spread through me. I crouched slowly, my fingers trembling as I began to gather the broken pieces of the urn, handling each shard as though it could somehow absorb my sorrow.
Tears blurred my vision, hot and relentless, my throat tight with unspoken grief. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I whispered, the words barely audible.
I couldn’t decide which hurt more—the fact that my father’s urn lay shattered at my feet or that Kael had betrayed me once again. After everything I had endured, why did it still sting to watch him choose Selara over me? Why did the old, familiar ache of disappointment still gnaw at my chest?
As I collected the ashes and pieces, the bitter truth struck me like a jagged stone. I had been gone for days, hiding at my mother’s house, yet Kael had never once sought me out. He knew exactly where I was, but he didn’t come. He never cared to.
From the beginning, I had known—he never intended to formalize what we had. That was why he had insisted we hide our relationship from my mother. But I had been foolish enough to believe him. I had trusted that he would do the right thing on my graduation day, that he would finally claim me properly.
But the past twenty-four hours had made it clear: it had always been me doing the reaching, the calling, the mending of things that were already broken. And this time, I was done.
Hands trembling, I scooped up the urn fragments and ashes, inhaling shakily before straightening. I gathered my remaining belongings, loaded them into the car, and prepared for the final trip to move my father’s grave.
The next day, I went to the U.S. Embassy to collect my approved visa, passport, and new identification. Stepping out of the building, a lightness washed over me, a fraction of the burden I had carried for years lifting away. Yet why did my chest still ache?
Night fell, and with it came a gnawing emptiness. All the years I had wasted on Kael’s whims, the blind loyalty, the silent compromises—they came crashing down all at once.
For the first time in my life, I went to a club. I had spent years performing the role of the good girl, the perfect girlfriend, and in the end, none of it had mattered. Kael had abandoned me too many times. Tonight, the roles were reversed—I was the one leaving him behind.
At first, I was cautious. Every man who approached, I kept at arm’s length, instinctively wary. But as the hours passed, as the alcohol warmed my veins and dulled my edges, I let myself loosen, allowing the music to take over, to blur the sharp angles of the day.
Someone moved closer. A tall figure with dark, unreadable eyes and a smirk that seemed both mischievous and knowing. He didn’t touch me, only watched, gauging, waiting.
“Are you new here?” he asked finally, his voice low, casual.
I turned toward him, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re looking around too much,” he said, a chuckle tugging at his lips. “People who come here often don’t do that.”
“Maybe I like to observe,” I replied, tilting my head, keeping my tone neutral.
“Or maybe you’re trying to forget something,” he offered, his gaze sharp, almost penetrating.
A humorless laugh escaped me. “Aren’t we all?”
Understanding flickered in his eyes, subtle but undeniable. He extended a hand. “Then how about we forget together?”
I hesitated briefly, then, without thinking, took it. Even tipsy, I maintained a sense of control, knowing my boundaries. When the room began to spin faster than I could handle, I stepped back carefully.
The last thing I remember was him asking if I needed a ride, his voice calm, patient, offering.
The next morning, I awoke in a bed that wasn’t mine, the sunlight cutting across unfamiliar sheets.
