The Seven Years of Secret Relationship Was Turned To Ashes

Albion's POV

I’d been in a secret relationship with my sister’s best friend for seven years.

One night, after a few too many drinks, she looked at me and, in a joking tone, said, “Albion, I’ll find you a better woman. So, can you stop clinging to me from now on?”

I stayed calm, my expression unreadable.

In my past life, I hadn’t agreed to her proposal. I insisted on being with her instead. But long after, she avoided me, ignored me, and deliberately pushed me away.

When I was in a car accident, bleeding out and fighting for my life, she went to the Arctic with her first love to see the Northern Lights.

It was then I finally understood that sincerity could shatter in an instant and love couldn't be forced.

——

So, now, I simply said, “Alright.”

Serena Adams froze, clearly caught off guard by how quickly I responded.

The private room was dimly lit, the lights flickering faintly. Her face, bare of any makeup, had an unusual flush to it, but her eyes were clear and sober—there wasn’t even a trace of drunkenness in them.

I sat up straight, meeting her gaze with a faint smile.

Her usual laziness was gone, replaced by a serious expression. “Albion, did you even hear what I just said?”

I nodded. “I heard you.”

In the past, if she’d said something like that, I would’ve pretended to be annoyed and interrupted her, telling her to stop joking around.

But now, I remained indifferent, as if she’d said something completely trivial.

“Albion, you—”

Before she could finish, Stephanie Erickson, my sister, who had stepped out to get some air, walked back in.

She glanced at Serena and smirked playfully. “Guess who I just saw outside?”

Without waiting for a response, Stephanie continued, “I saw your first love. He’s drunk and being dragged into another private room by a few wealthy-looking women.”

Before she even finished her sentence, Serena shot to her feet and stormed out of the room.

Not long after, the sound of arguing and breaking glass echoed from the hallway.

Despite that, I stayed in my seat, casually peeling and eating an orange from the fruit platter.

Serena loves fruit but hates peeling it. Every time, I’d carefully peel it and place it in front of her. Only then would she take a few bites.

Stephanie used to tease me about it, saying, “You’re so good to her. Why don’t I ever see you treating your actual sister this well? Don’t tell me you’re into her?”

There were so many times I wanted to reveal my relationship with Serena, but she’d always link arms with me playfully, cutting me off with a cheeky grin.

“Maybe Albion thinks I’m more like a real sister to him than you. Little brothers should dote on their big sisters anyway—any objections?”

Over time, I realized what she really wanted: to keep our relationship hidden. So I stopped trying to tell anyone.

For seven years, no one in our lives knew we were together.

Now, Stephanie was lingering by the door, watching for the right moment to step in. Turning back to me, still eating fruit, she teased, “Albion, your Serena is fighting someone out there. Aren’t you going to help her?”

I swallowed the last piece of orange and shook my head. “It’s a fight between women. Why would I, a man, get involved?”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, then stepped out to help.

Meanwhile, I stayed in the private room a long time, long enough for the noise outside to die down. Only then did I stand and walk out.

The first thing I saw was Serena holding tightly onto a man’s arm.

It was her first love, the one she could never let go of—Cyril Smith.

He was drunk, leaning limply against her as if his body had no bones.

Not only did she not push him away, but she held him even closer, her arms wrapped protectively around him.

Her dark, bright eyes were filled with anger—and something else she hadn’t realized herself: heartbreak.