Dumped and Regret_ How I Married a Legend and Made My Ex Cry Blood

The day my life shifted forever, I lay broken and bleeding from a car accident, while my boyfriend, Kelvin, rushed off—not to my side, but to his “dear childhood friend,” Luna. She had sent him another desperate message, claiming she’d end her life if he didn’t come to see her.

“I just want to see you one last time,” she wrote.

Without a second thought, he left me. My pleas for him to stay went unheard; he didn’t even glance my way. His cold voice echoed in my ears as he walked out the door.

"How selfish can you be, Diana? Luna and I have been together since we were kids. You know it’s different.”

That night, I cried myself to sleep, hurt by both his words and my wounds. But days later, the famous physicist Evan Blake—known worldwide for his achievements—came into my life, offering a love as passionate as it was public. He even asked me to marry him. The moment Kelvin found out, he returned to me, desperate, his eyes filled with a sorrow I had never seen before.

“Diana, please,” he begged, “don’t say yes to him.”

I met his gaze, expressionless. “I’m in love with him, Kelvin. You don’t get to have an opinion.”

***

That horrible day started out like any other, with me filled with excitement to share my good news. I’d just won a spot in the national physics competition and I was thrilled. I rushed home to tell Kelvin, thinking he’d be proud. But my haste made me careless. Before I knew it, I lost control of the car and crashed. Through waves of pain, I dialed his number, my hand trembling.

“Kelvin,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face, “I’m hurt… there’s so much blood. It really hurts. Can you come be with me? I’m scared.”

He cut me off with the cool efficiency of someone with far more important things to do.

“Diana, Luna just sent me a message saying she’s going to hurt herself. I have to go to her—this is serious. Don’t make a scene.”

Before I could even respond, the line went dead.

The pain in my ankle intensified, a throbbing agony that left me dizzy. Blood was pooling beneath me, staining the pavement in a shocking shade of red. Frantic, I called him again, but this time, his irritation was palpable.

“Diana, I told you to stop calling. Don’t you get it? Luna needs me. She’s my childhood friend; we go way back. If something was going to happen between us, don’t you think it would’ve happened already?”

His words were a slap to the face and I could feel my heart splintering, the sharp pain there rivaling the one in my leg. The world around me was freezing as a biting wind swept over my sweat-soaked skin. I was shaking—partly from cold, partly from disbelief.

For three years, Luna had used the threat of hurting herself to keep Kelvin close. Every single time, he’d drop everything for her. I’d always tried to be understanding; after all, a life was at stake. But as I lay there, alone and broken, it hit me that in his eyes, Luna’s cry for attention outweighed my very real, life-threatening injuries.

In the end, it was a stranger who helped me to the hospital, not my boyfriend. And while I received stitches and a stern warning about the severity of my injuries, Kelvin was nowhere to be found. The doctor, frowning as he cleaned my wound, told me that if I’d been brought in any later, I could have faced a lifelong disability.

When I finally felt steady enough, I tried calling Kelvin again, hoping against hope that he’d at least care about my condition. But each call was declined—until, finally, Luna’s voice answered.

“Diana, please don’t be angry with Kelvin. He’s here because I begged him to come. I know you don’t like me, but… I’m really struggling. How could you be so heartless?”

Then Kelvin’s voice came on, weary and irritated. “Diana, I can’t keep doing this. Luna needs me and frankly, what are you doing that’s more important?”

The phone went dead in my hand.

I sat there, shaking, a knot of disbelief tightening in my stomach. My boyfriend, the one person who should be there for me, was off comforting Luna, acting as if her pain mattered more than mine. And I realized that he would never see me as enough. Not over her.

Without a word to the doctor, I refused the overnight hospital stay, hailed a taxi and made my way to Luna’s house. Pain throbbed through my leg with each movement and as I approached her front door, my chest tightened. I wanted—needed—to see this for myself.

The door was slightly ajar and soft laughter floated out, mingling with Luna’s sweet voice.

“Oh, Kelvin, I feel so much better with you here,” she giggled. “Stay with me a few more days, will you?”

As I took it all in, I realized this wasn’t just a “cry for help.” She was manipulating him and he let her.

The pain I felt wasn’t just physical anymore. It was the heartbreaking awareness that I’d been holding on to someone who was already lost to someone else.