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Ten years later, I ran into Liam Carter again at a class reunion. All our classmates, successful now, were married with kids. Only Liam was still single. “Serena, Liam’s waiting for you. He hasn’t dated or gotten married in years.” They’d barely finished speaking when Liam walked in. He walked in, sharp in a suit, and everyone gasped. Ten years later, Liam was still drop—dead gorgeous. The youthful arrogance was gone, though. A calm maturity now settled in his brow. Knowing our history, they made sure Liam and I sat together. He kept sneaking glances at me, like he had a million things to say. But all he managed was a soft, “Rena, long time no see.” “Yeah, long time no see.” I responded blandly, my face completely devoid of any emotion about our long—awaited reunion. Childhood sweethearts, totally inseparable, but we ended up like strangers. I remembered the party after high school graduation, when he cut a slice of watermelon for the new transfer student. This time, I didn’t cry. I just quietly ended things. “All because of a piece of watermelon?” “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Fine. Just try to stick with it for more than a couple days this time. Give me some peace.” I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed my bag and left the private room. This time, he didn’t immediately follow me out like he always did. He figured I was just throwing another tantrum, that in a few days, once I cooled down, I’d naturally come crawling back to him, just like before. After all, that’s how all ninety—nine previous breakups went. But what he didn’t know was that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My heart, repeatedly stung and already riddled with holes, had finally run out of its last shred of warmth and hope. With that ninety—ninth breakup, I was truly done with him. Liam and I had always been known throughout the school as a match made in heaven. He was the school’s golden boy, tall with long legs, a face so chiseled it was almost intimidating. He always rocked a cool, black windbreaker, all swagger and charm, drawing girls in like crazy. But his eyes? They were always, only, on me. We were childhood sweethearts, practically glued at the hip growing up. At our baby party when we were just one, it was like we picked each other, destined from the start. By seven, our parents had already joked about our marriage. At fourteen, we were passing love notes. Sixteen, he officially asked me out. Eighteen, we promised to get into the same college... Everything was perfect until our senior year. That’s when Tiffany Hayes, a new transfer student, showed up in our class. When the homeroom teacher set up the “buddy system” for new students, she specifically paired Tiffany with Liam. She made it crystal clear: “If you don’t take this on, you can forget about dating Serena Reed anywhere on campus.” Liam, who was usually so aloof and distant, had no choice but to take on the assignment. At first, it was just regular tutoring sessions and showing her around campus. But little by little, things started to feel really off. When Tiffany mentioned she craved a cake from that trendy bakery in Soho everyone queues for, he ditched football training to get it for her. When Tiffany posted on Instagram that she was feeling down, he stayed on the phone with her all night. And get this: one time, when she had period cramps, he borrowed money from me to buy her hot cocoa... I was furious. We fought. And that’s when I started breaking up with him, over and over again. The first time I dumped him, it was on the phone. There was this long silence on his end, then I heard his breathing, ragged and fast. It was a total downpour that night. He showed up at my place, soaked to the bone, and stood outside all night. His voice hoarse, he kept calling my name, begging me to forgive him. The second time I ended things, he skipped a whole day of classes, posted up outside my classroom door, his eyes bloodshot. He shoved a thick, messily written but totally heartfelt love letter into my hands, begging me to get back together, all humble and desperate. But as it happened more and more often, he finally seemed to figure out my bottom line... that I couldn’t actually leave him! So, his apologies started getting lazier and lazier. What used to be an instant makeup turned into a day later, then three days, then a week... Until the ninety—ninth time. All that pent—up disappointment and heartache, simmering for way too long, just burst. I finally decided to leave him for good. The first thing I did when I got home? Fired up my laptop and, without a second thought, changed my top choice on the application. It was supposed to be NYU, our dream school, but I switched it to UCLA, clear across the country. Next, I started clearing out everything that reminded me of him. Limited edition plushies he’d given me, matching couple bracelets, little notes filled with sweet nothings, a thick stack of photos... Each one held a memory – sweet, bittersweet – but now they all felt impossibly heavy. I shoved it all into one massive cardboard box. The next day, I hauled that heavy box over to his place. His butler, who knew me well, showed me straight into the living room. In the spacious living room, he and Tiffany were sitting side—by—side on the plush carpet, playing the latest video game. They were super close, and Tiffany kept letting out excited squeals and sweet, flirty giggles. “Wow, Liam, you’re incredible! I’ve been stuck on this level forever!” My eyes instantly fixed on the oversized black T—shirt Tiffany was wearing. It was the limited edition one I’d hunted down for his birthday last year, hitting up multiple malls just to find it. When he got it, he was so surprised he picked me up and spun me around a few times, then whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin, “Rennie gave this to me. I’m gonna wear it every single day.” Turns out, his “wear it every single day” promise actually meant he could just casually lend it to another girl like this. Tiffany must’ve felt my stare, because she turned around. Saw me standing there with the box, and a sweet, innocent smile bloomed on her face. “Oh, hey Serena! You’re here? Liam asked me to come over and play some games. And he even cooked me pasta himself! But I’m such a klutz, I accidentally knocked over my juice, so he lent me his shirt to wear. Hope you don’t mind?” Liam didn’t even flinch. He just lazily lifted his eyes, giving me a quick glance. His fingers were still flying across the controller. His voice was totally casual. “What do you want? Didn’t we break up?” Watching him act like he didn’t care at all, a wave of bitter self—mockery washed over me. I remembered the first time I’d brought up breaking up, how he’d been a mess in the pouring rain, practically begging me. Then I remembered how it took him longer and longer to win me back after our fights. And the last time, he’d just sent a WhatsApp message: “Stop being dramatic. I’ll take you for BBQ tonight. He kept pushing my boundaries, and because I kept caving and forgiving him, he just got bolder and bolder. But he had no idea that even a camel eventually gets broken by the last straw. This time, the ninety—ninth breakup, I was genuinely done with him. “Exactly because we broke up, I wanted to return some of your stuff.” “If you’re just gonna be dramatic, you can just toss it. No need to bring it all the way over.” “Okay.” I nodded, no hesitation. Carrying the cardboard box, crammed with memories, I walked over to the giant dumpster nearby. Without a second thought, I just pitched the whole thing in. The box hit the empty bin with a dull thud. 2 I turned to leave. “Wait.” He stopped me. “Take your stuff from my place too.” He probably thought I’d be hurt by that, just like always. That my eyes would well up and I’d ask, “Liam, what the hell?” And then he’d smoothly say, “Let’s not fight,” and everything would just blow over again. But I didn’t say anything. I just turned around, silent, and started to systematically clear out my stuff from this house – a place I’d once known so well, practically called it my second home. By the front door, those fuzzy bear slippers he’d specially bought with my initials; on the kitchen mug rack, the cute strawberry mug that was exclusively mine; on the living room couch, the light gray throw blanket I always used... I picked them out one by one, calmly tossing them into another empty cardboard box, as if I were just clearing out some irrelevant trash. Meanwhile, his little game with Tiffany started up again, a fresh round. During a break in their game, Tiffany announced she was thirsty, then very casually picked up his half—empty water glass and took a sip. And he, the serious germaphobe who used to cringe even at my half—finished boba tea, just glanced over and said absolutely nothing. Tiffany then pouted, saying she was hungry, craving specialty tacos from some old, far—off spot. He didn’t hesitate, immediately getting up, grabbing his car keys, and walking right out the door. I watched it all, but my heart, strangely, didn’t ache anymore. Just a numb, icy coldness remained. I grabbed the packed box and headed upstairs, needing to get the last few things from his room. The moment I pushed open his bedroom door, a figure blocked my path. It was Tiffany. A smirk plastered her face, triumph and challenge in her eyes. “You broke up with Liam. What are you even doing here, still trying to get a reaction?” I didn’t want to get into it with her. “I’m just here to get my stuff. Make a clean break.” “A clean break?” She scoffed. “You think playing these mind games is going to make Liam even look your way? He’s so over your dramatics. Every time you threatened to break up, you just knew he’d come begging, didn’t you? What else can you do besides cling to him?” “Let me tell you something. Everything you like, everything you want, I’m taking it. You copied his applications, hoping to cling to him forever, right? Well, too bad. I got into NYU too.” I’m gonna take him from you, piece by piece, until he’s completely mine. And you’ll get a front—row seat to watch yourself lose.” I wasn’t going to entertain her bullshit. Clutching the box, I tried to walk past her. But she wouldn’t let up. She grabbed my arm, her words turning even nastier. “What, did I hit a nerve? Cat got your tongue? Serena, seriously, have some shame! Your clinging is just disgusting! No wonder Liam got sick of you. Looks like your parents didn’t teach you squat, raising a...” SMACK! The sharp sound of a slap echoed, cutting off Tiffany’s vicious rant. I’d had enough. I lifted my hand and slapped her hard. I could handle being messed with, but no one, no one insulted my parents! She clutched her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. Then her face contorted with rage, and she raised her hand to hit me back! Just then, I heard the front door open downstairs, followed by footsteps. He was home. Tiffany’s eyes gleamed, a wicked idea already forming. She shrieked, then yanked my hand, dragging me down the stairs with her. “Aargh!” We both tumbled, hitting the first—floor landing with a sickening thud. My whole body screamed, every bone feeling shattered. My forehead slammed into the corner of a step, and warm blood instantly streamed down. Tiffany had taken a nasty fall too, but she scrambled up in a flash. Before I could even move, she clutched her face, strategically exposing the bright red slap mark I’d given her. Tears welled up instantly, gushing down as she sobbed dramatically, a perfect picture of distress. “Liam... Serena... she... she just came at me and hit me, then pushed me down the stairs... I’m in so much pain...” Liam’s eyes swept over the chaotic scene, his face hardening into a grim mask. He strode over, his eyes first landing on Tiffany, who was sobbing hysterically. Then his gaze, colder than ice, shot to me, struggling to get back on my feet. His voice was laced with frost. “Serena! What the hell is wrong with you?! This is my house. Who gave you the right to lay a hand on my guest?!” I bit back a gasp, fighting the searing pain and dizziness. “She insulted my parents first, that’s why I—” “Enough!” He didn’t even want to hear it, cutting me off sharply. His eyes were full of disappointment and impatience. “I don’t want to hear any excuses! Butler! See her out!” The Butler looked visibly uncomfortable, but still stepped forward, gesturing for me to leave. I watched him turn away without hesitation. He gently helped Tiffany up, then carefully cradled her to the sofa. He pulled out the first—aid kit and gently cleaned and dressed her wounds, as if she were some fragile, precious jewel. In that moment, my heart felt like it had been carved out of my chest. The pain was so intense, I could barely breathe. He used to treat me like that. I remember one time, I busted my knee in gym class. He went white as a sheet, totally panicked, and without a word, scooped me up and sprinted to the med center. The whole time, he kept whispering, “Don’t be scared, Rennie, it’ll be okay, the pain will be gone in a second. Back then, all his tenderness, all his frantic concern, it was all just for me. But now? All that care, all that patience, it was being showered on some other girl. All my explanations, all my hurt, they just choked in my throat, dissolving into a cold, crushing despair. I didn’t say another word, just dragged myself out, every inch of me aching and humiliated. I went to the hospital alone. The check—up revealed a mild concussion and a bunch of soft tissue bruises all over. The doctor wanted me to stay for observation. While I was recovering in the hospital, my phone kept buzzing. It was Tiffany, sending all sorts of taunting messages, along with photos and videos of him doting on her. He spoon—fed her porridge, peeled apples for her, and even took her for strolls in the garden. I just stared at them, my face blank, not replying to a single one. My heart was totally numb. Her provocations didn’t faze me one bit. 3 After I got out of the hospital, the class organized a graduation party. I really didn’t want to go, but my friends talked me into it. The moment I walked into the private room, I saw Liam and Tiffany sitting glued to each other. Tiffany was smiling, feeding him a piece of fruit. He didn’t refuse. When my classmates saw me, they all looked a bit awkward. They quickly gathered around, whispering, “Serena, what’s going on? You and Liam... fighting again?” I calmly shook my head. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough. “Not fighting. We broke up.” “What? Broke up?!” Everyone looked stunned. “Why? Liam was always so good to you!” “Yeah, seriously! When you got sick in senior year, he almost fought the dean just to get you a long medical leave!” “Oh, and! The surprises he’d plan for you every holiday? We were all so jealous!” “You two were the couple everyone thought would go from school uniforms to wedding gowns! How could you break up now, right before graduation?” Listening to them rattle off all his past ‘greatness,’ my heart felt like it was shriveling up in a pool of acid, bloated and throbbing. Yeah, he was that good to me once. Good enough that I genuinely believed he was my forever. But that’s precisely why his later coldness and favoritism felt so utterly brutal. I paused for a beat, then said softly, “We weren’t a match, so we broke up. Nobody’s indispensable. Besides,” My gaze flickered to him across the room, pouring Tiffany a drink. “He and Tiffany seem to be doing just fine now, don’t they?” He happened to catch what I said, frowning as he looked my way, his eyes unreadable. For the rest of the night, it was like he was deliberately trying to spite me. He went out of his way to be even more overtly affectionate with Tiffany, super attentive, practically glued to her side. He probably expected me to get jealous, to get mad, maybe even storm over and break them up like I used to. But I didn’t. I just sat quietly in my corner, chatting occasionally with whoever was nearby, my gaze calm and unruffled. As if he genuinely was just some random stranger, completely irrelevant to me now. But that utter silence, my complete dismissal, seemed to spark a kind of panic in him he’d never felt before. He instinctively started to move toward me, but Tiffany, right there beside him, grabbed his arm. Tiffany stood on her tiptoes, whispering something in his ear. He stopped cold, a deep frown creasing his forehead, and finally, just sat back down. Soon enough, someone suggested a round of Truth or Dare. A few rounds later, Tiffany lost. Her dare? Kiss the tallest guy in the room for three minutes. All eyes instantly snapped to him. Tiffany’s face flushed, but her eyes held a challenging glint as she walked straight up to him. The other classmates gasped, whispering, “Whoa... this is totally messed up, right? Serena’s literally right here!” Tiffany, though, shot a glance at me in the corner, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Serena, you and Liam are totally over. So, you’re cool with us playing a game and kissing, right?” Her best friend immediately chimed in, “Seriously! She’s his ex now, what right does she have to tell Liam who he can kiss?” Instantly, every eye in the room, including his, was on me like a spotlight. His gaze was intense, holding an unspoken pressure, as if he was waiting for my reaction. I lowered my head, my long lashes veiling any emotion in my eyes. My voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the silence, clear to everyone. “...Yeah, it has nothing to do with me.” Those words drew a definitive line. His face instantly darkened, his eyes blazing with fury and a simmering rage from being defied. He let out a sharp, cold scoff, then abruptly pulled Tiffany by the waist. To everyone’s shocked gasps, he slammed his lips onto hers! A wave of suppressed gasps and sharp intakes of breath swept through the private room, only to be swallowed by an eerie, deathly silence. I just watched as they full—on made out under the lights, practically glued to each other. Tiffany’s hand even snaked up around his neck. My heart felt like it was caught in a vice, a sharp, cramping pain that nearly buckled me. I dug my nails into my palms, digging in so hard it hurt, desperately trying to keep the crushing bitterness and despair from totally drowning me, from making me lose it right then and there. It felt like an eternity, but that agonizingly long kiss finally broke. Tiffany’s best friend practically yelled, “So, Liam, how was that? Kissing our Tiffany... gotta be a whole lot more exciting than with some other girls, huh?” His gaze swept over my pale face, a cold, cruel smirk playing on his lips. His voice was low, but every word cut deep: “No comparison. Tiffany... total knockout.” 4 Tiffany’s smugness was practically oozing off her. After a few more rounds, Tiffany lost again. This time, her dare was to sit on a guy’s lap and complete a specific task. Tiffany didn’t even hesitate, her eyes immediately darting back to Liam. I couldn’t take it anymore. I shot up, muttered something about needing the restroom to my friend, and practically sprinted out of that suffocating private room. I hid in the restroom, splashing cold water on my face again and again, but the tears just kept coming, mixing with the water. It took forever to get myself somewhat together. I just wanted to go home. As I turned the corner down the hall, I heard familiar voices coming from the patio. It was Liam and his closest buddies. “Liam, dude, wasn’t that a bit much back there? Serena looked ghost—white. Aren’t you gonna go check on her?” “Check on her?” He scoffed, a cold sound. “So she can break up with me again in a few days? Am I a glutton for punishment?” “True... it’s your own fault for spoiling her, though. She’d always pull the breakup card. Maybe this is a good chance for her to finally learn her lesson.” Exactly. Once classes start at NYU, she’ll be in a new city, won’t know anyone. She’ll definitely come crawling back. Then you just throw her a bone, and she’ll beg for you back. After this, she won’t dare threaten to break up with you again. Perfect. Standing outside the door, every drop of blood in me turned to ice. My hands and feet went completely numb with cold. So, in his eyes, all those times I tried to break up with him, all that pain and disappointment? It was just me ‘throwing a tantrum,’ just ‘a way to manipulate him.’ And his ‘lesson’ for me? To humiliate me in front of everyone by kissing another girl! I silently turned and walked away, down the stairs. The summer night wind brushed against me, but it was so cold it made me tremble. As I walked, memories flashed through my mind like a silent film. There was a time when, if I so much as frowned, he’d get all anxious, asking if I was feeling unwell. Back then, girls would constantly try to give him love letters. He’d always refuse them without even glancing, then come straight to me, looking for praise. “Rennie,” he’d boast, “I rejected another one today, all on my own. Praise me!” I’d gotten so used to his kindness, to him treating me like I was his one—of—a—kind treasure. When did it all change? It started the day Tiffany showed up. He’d break his own rules for Tiffany, again and again, completely ignoring my feelings. It wasn’t like I didn’t notice how Tiffany was special to him, or how he treated her differently. I was just clinging to that last sliver of hope, using breakup threats again and again to test him, to try and win him back. But all it did was make him see me as annoying and childish. Turns out, once I wasn’t his one and only anymore, even my tears were wrong. Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed I was almost home. From a distance, I spotted a mail carrier standing by my front door. Guess my acceptance letter finally arrived. I took a deep breath, just about to step forward, when I saw a tall, familiar figure standing with the mailman. It was him! He was holding one of the envelopes, clearly marked with UCLA logo, and he was about to rip it open...
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For two years, she tamed her sharp edges and played the role of a dutiful, obedient wife, quietly enduring the disdain and humiliation of high society solely to appease her husband’s family. Yet with her gift of foresight, she chanced upon her husband embracing his mistress, only to be mocked as a crude country nobody—all her quiet sacrifices reduced to nothing but a bitter joke. ===== Chapter 1 Elena pressed her index finger against the cardboard. The Tower. The heavy oak table vibrated, a low hum that rattled the crystal ashtray. Sloane stopped breathing. The screen of Sloane's phone lit up on the table. The GPS tracking dot blinked red. It aligned perfectly with the invisible rune Elena had just traced on the wood. Sloane's hands started to shake. Elena picked up her martini glass. She took a slow sip. The cold liquid burned down her throat, masking the brief flash of golden light that flickered in her dark eyes. "Go," Elena said. Sloane snatched her Birkin bag from the chair. Her heels slammed against the hardwood floor, a rapid, violent rhythm that echoed her rage. Elena set her glass down and followed. The brass doors of The Obsidian c**b were heavy. The bass from the music inside hit Elena's ch**t the second they pulled them open. The c**b manager stepped in front of them. He opened his mouth to ask for a reservation. Sloane shoved a black American Express card directly into his ch**t. The manager's annoyed expression vanished. He plastered on a fake smile and stepped aside. They walked down the dark corridor. Neon laser lights sliced through the sm**e, flashing across Elena's pale face. She hated this place. The air smelled like cheap sweat and expensive mistakes. Sloane ran. She didn't care about the music or the crowd. She headed straight for the VIP section. Elena walked behind her, her pace steady. Sloane hit the door of room V03 with both hands. It crashed open. A woman screamed inside. Sloane lunged forward, her hands flying toward her cheating fiancé. Elena stopped in the hallway. She didn't go in. A different scent cut through the smell of al**hol and sm**e. Cedar and bergamot. Andrew's cologne. Elena's stomach tightened. The muscles in her abdomen contracted so hard it hurt. She turned her head. At the end of the corridor was a semi-open terrace. The night wind blew in, catching the bottom of her cheap beige trench coat. She walked toward the wind. Heavy velvet curtains separated the terrace from the hallway. They were drawn almost completely shut, leaving only a narrow gap. Elena looked through the gap. A tall man stood by the railing. Andrew. Her husband. His arm was wrapped around a woman's waist. The woman was small. Fragile. She leaned her entire body weight against his ch**t. A sharp pain flared in Elena's ch**t, stealing the air from her lungs. The woman turned her head. Kaitlynn. Elena's fingers gripped her small clutch. She squeezed the leather until her knuckles turned completely white. The joints ached. Kaitlynn looked up at Andrew. Tears spilled over her eyelashes and rolled down her cheeks. She cried about how lonely she was during her art therapy trip in Europe. Andrew reached into his pocket. He pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped her tears. His touch was gentle. Elena moved her foot. She wanted to speak. "I'll fix it," Andrew said. His voice was low. Elena froze. Her breathing sped up, the cold air scraping her throat. Kaitlynn sniffled. "I don't want to ruin your marriage, Andrew. I feel so guilty." Andrew let out a harsh laugh. "She's an Appalachian hillbilly, Kaitlynn. She doesn't belong here." The words hit Elena like a physical blow to the stomach. Bile rose in her throat. "I only married her to get my grandfather off my back," Andrew continued. Kaitlynn buried her face in his shirt. Elena saw the corner of Kaitlynn's mouth twitch upward into a smirk. Elena's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. The sharp sting of her own skin breaking grounded her. Two years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and swallowing the insults of his friends. It was all a joke. "The lawyers are drafting the divorce papers," Andrew promised, his hand st**king Kaitlynn's hair. "Next week, she'll be out of New York for good." Kaitlynn threw her arms around his neck. She pressed her body flush against his. Elena felt nauseous. Her throat closed up. She closed her eyes. She forced air into her lungs. One breath. Two breaths. When she opened her eyes, the pain was gone. Only ice remained. The wind picked up. The heavy velvet curtain flapped loudly against the wall. Andrew's head snapped toward the gap. Elena didn't hide. She reached out and grabbed the thick velvet fabric. She ripped the curtain open. The dim light from the hallway hit her face. She stood there, completely expressionless. Andrew dropped his arm. Panic flashed in his eyes for a fraction of a second. Then, his jaw clenched, and the panic morphed into deep annoyance. Kaitlynn gasped. She shrank behind Andrew, her hands gripping the fabric of his suit jacket like a terrified child. But her eyes, staring at Elena from behind his shoulder, were full of defiance. Andrew adjusted his cuffs. He glared at Elena. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "Are you stalking me?" Elena let out a short, cold laugh. She looked at his hands, then at Kaitlynn's clinging fingers. "If you two are going to cheat," Elena said, her voice flat and loud enough to cut through the wind, "you could at least pick a place that doesn't smell like a public restroom." Chapter 2 Andrew's face turned red. He dropped Kaitlynn's hand and took a heavy step forward. His large frame blocked the light, casting a dark shadow over Elena. Elena didn't move a single inch. She kept her chin up. Her eyes dragged up and down his body, looking at him the way someone looks at a piece of tr**h on the sidewalk. Kaitlynn pulled on the hem of Andrew's jacket. "Andrew, please," Kaitlynn whimpered, her voice trembling. "Don't fight with your wife because of me. It's my fault." Andrew reached back and grabbed Kaitlynn's hand, squeezing it to comfort her. He turned his glare back to Elena. "Did you hire a private investigator?" Andrew demanded. His voice was loud, echoing off the brick walls of the terrace. "Are you out of your mind?" Elena found the accusation hilarious. A cold smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I don't need a private investigator, Andrew," Elena said. "That cheap perfume she's wearing reeks from three blocks away." Kaitlynn's body stiffened. Her fake tears stopped. It was a limited-edition fragrance. Andrew stepped closer. The veins in his neck popped. "Go back to the country house, Elena," he ordered. "Stop embarrassing yourself in public." Elena opened her clutch. She pulled out a wet wipe. She slowly, deliberately wiped the fingers that had just touched the velvet curtain. She wiped them as if she had touched a dead rat. Andrew saw the gesture. His pride shattered. He lunged forward and reached for her wrist. Elena shifted her weight. She turned her shoulder, and Andrew's hand grabbed empty air. He stumbled forward, his expensive leather shoes slipping slightly on the concrete. Kaitlynn let out a high-pitched g**p. She rushed forward and grabbed Andrew's arm, pressing her ch**t against his bicep to steady him. Elena threw the used wet wipe into a nearby tr**h can. "Since you're in such a rush to make room for your little saint," Elena said, her voice devoid of any emotion, "I'll make it easy for you." Andrew froze. He stood up straight. He expected her to cry. He expected her to beg him to stay. He let out a mocking scoff. "Is this your new strategy?" Andrew sneered. "Playing hard to get so you can squeeze more alimony out of me?" Elena's eyes darkened. She took one step forward. The sudden shift in her energy was physical. The air around her seemed to drop ten degrees. Andrew actually took a half-step backward before he realized what he was doing. "Tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock," Elena said, her words sharp as broken glass. "Tell your lawyer to bring the papers to me." Kaitlynn's eyes widened with pure joy, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, pretending to be shocked. Andrew's jaw tightened. He hated being given orders. "You won't get a single dime from the Macdonald family," he spat. "Keep your di**y money," Elena said. "Just make sure I never have to look at your face again." Footsteps pounded against the floorboards behind them. Sloane marched onto the terrace. Her hair was slightly messy, but her eyes were wild with adrenaline. She saw Andrew and Kaitlynn clutching each other. "You absolute piece of ga**age," Sloane yelled at Andrew. Andrew recognized her immediately. The heiress to the Astor-Vance fortune. His arrogant expression slipped. "Sloane, this is a misunderstanding," Andrew started to say. Sloane didn't listen. She pulled out her phone, raised it, and started snapping pictures. The bright flash fired repeatedly, blinding them in the dim light. Kaitlynn shrieked and hid her face against Andrew's ch**t. "Delete those!" Kaitlynn screamed. "If you're brave enough to spread your legs, you should be brave enough for a photo," Sloane fired back. Andrew lunged at Sloane to grab the phone. Elena moved faster. Her hand shot out, her fingers precisely finding the pressure point on his wrist. She pressed hard against the nerve. Andrew gasped. A sharp, blinding numbness shot up his arm, instantly sapping his strength. He tried to pull away, but his muscles completely gave out under her targeted technique. It felt like a sudden, localized paralysis. "Show some respect," Elena warned, her voice a low, dangerous wh**per. She shoved his arm back. Andrew stumbled back, grabbing his aching wrist. He stared at her, completely shocked by the raw physical power she just displayed. Elena grabbed Sloane's arm. They turned their backs on the couple. Elena's heels clicked against the floor, a steady, unbothered rhythm as she walked away. Andrew stood on the terrace, rubbing his throbbing wrist. He stared at the empty doorway. A cold knot of confusion formed in his stomach. The quiet, submissive woman he married was gone. Chapter 3 Elena and Sloane walked into the main VIP lobby. A group of men blocked their path. Jett, Andrew's best friend, stood in the center. He held a half-empty glass of wh**key. His face was flushed with al**hol. "Well, well," Jett slurred, a nasty grin on his face. "Is the country mouse throwing another tantrum?" The other rich kids in the group laughed. They looked at Elena's beige coat with obvious disgust. Andrew and Kaitlynn rushed into the lobby from the hallway. Andrew didn't tell his friends to stop. He just stood there, crossing his arms. Kaitlynn peeked out from behind Jett's shoulder. "Guys, please don't be mean to Elena," Kaitlynn said softly. "She's just upset." Sloane's face turned red with anger. She stepped forward to scream at them. Elena raised her hand and placed it flat against Sloane's ch**t, stopping her. Elena gave her a single, calm look. Sloane stepped back. Elena turned her attention to Kaitlynn. "Did you enjoy your art therapy in Europe, Kaitlynn?" Elena asked. Her voice was loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. The laughter died down. Kaitlynn's smile stiffened. "Yes. The scenery was very healing for my soul." Elena took a slow step forward. "The scenery around Lake Geneva is beautiful," Elena said. "Especially near that private medical clinic hidden in the mountains." Kaitlynn stopped breathing. Her pupils dilated. Her fingers lost their grip, and her expensive clutch slipped, hitting the marble floor with a loud smack. Andrew frowned. He looked at Elena. "What the h**l are you talking about? Shut up." Elena ignored him. She kept her eyes locked on Kaitlynn. "Dr. Hoffman is a true professional, isn't he?" Elena asked. Kaitlynn's face turned completely white. She started shaking. "You're crazy!" Kaitlynn screamed. "She's making things up! She's lying!" Jett stepped in front of Kaitlynn, pointing his finger inches from Elena's face. "You jealous bi**h," Jett spat. "You can't stand that Kaitlynn is pure and Andrew actually loves her." Elena didn't blink. She looked at Jett's pointing finger, then back to Kaitlynn. "If she's so pure," Elena said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm, "why did she need a surgical procedure to remove a six-week-old embryo?" Dead silence. The music from the c**b seemed to fade away. Everyone in the lobby stared at Kaitlynn. Andrew looked like he had been struck by lightning. His mouth opened slightly. He slowly turned his head to look at Kaitlynn. "Kaitlynn?" Andrew whispered. Kaitlynn grabbed Andrew's arm. Tears poured down her face. "She's lying! Andrew, she's trying to ruin me!" Elena crossed her arms over her ch**t. "The spirits show me a very clear picture of a white building near Lake Geneva," Elena said smoothly, her eyes unblinking. "I see a heavy door with the number four on it. And a bank statement, fluttering in the wind, with the final numbers 8802." Kaitlynn's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The details were classified. No one could possibly know them. Andrew stared at the woman crying on the floor. His ch**t heaved. For the first time in two years, doubt crept into his eyes. Jett's face turned purple with rage. "You hired a hacker!" Jett yelled. "You stole her medical records! That's a federal crime!" Elena slowly turned her gaze to Jett. "Just like the massive mess you are currently hiding from your father?" Elena asked, her voice dropping to a chilling wh**per. "You better clean up your own backyard, Jett. Those Vegas debts won't stay buried forever." Jett choked. The sound died in his throat. His face drained of all color, terrified by her vague but terrifyingly accurate warning. He looked like he was going to vomit. The people standing next to him shifted uncomfortably. Elena brushed a piece of imaginary lint off her sleeve. She looked at the group of stunned, terrified people. She looked at Andrew one last time. "You treat a liar carrying another man's mistake like a treasure," Elena said. "You're pathetic." Elena grabbed Sloane's hand. They walked through the crowd. No one dared to stop them. As they pushed open the front doors of the c**b, Elena heard Kaitlynn's hysterical sobbing and Andrew's frustrated shout echoing in the lobby. She didn't look back. Chapter 4 The cold night air hit Elena's face. She stood on the curb with Sloane, waiting for the valet to bring the car. Heavy, frantic footsteps sl**ped against the pavement behind them. Elena turned her head. Jett charged out of the c**b doors. His eyes were bl**dshot. He held the half-empty wh**key bottle by the neck. "You ruined her!" Jett screamed, spit flying from his mouth. He raised the heavy glass bottle high above his head and swung it directly at Elena's face. Sloane shrieked and covered her head. Elena didn't flinch. As the bottle came down, Elena shifted her weight to her left foot. She tilted her upper body just enough. The bottle sliced through the empty air, missing her nose by an inch. Elena simply stepped smoothly to the side. As Jett's momentum carried him recklessly forward, Elena's foot subtly hooked behind his ankle. Jett lost his footing entirely. He tripped over his own feet, his arms flailing wildly as he crashed down hard onto the curb. A loud pop echoed in the quiet street as his shoulder hit the concrete at an unnatural angle. Jett let out a deafening scream. His fingers opened, and the wh**key bottle shattered against the concrete, spraying glass and al**hol everywhere. He folded in half like a piece of paper, clutching his dislocated shoulder. Jett collapsed into the puddle of wh**key and broken glass. Andrew ran out of the c**b just in time to see Jett hit the ground. He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Elena, his brain unable to process what he just saw. "Are you insane?" Andrew roared, running over to Jett. "You're a violent psycho!" Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She wiped the hand that had touched Jett's wrist. "He attacked me with a weapon," Elena said, her voice completely flat. "It's called self-defense." "I'm calling the police!" Andrew yelled, pulling out his phone. "I'm going to lock you up!" Elena pointed a single finger up at the streetlamp. "There's a security camera right there," Elena said. "Call them. But if the police show up, I'll make sure they look into Jett's missing two million dollars while they're at it." Andrew's thumb froze over the screen. He looked at the camera, then down at Jett, who was still groaning on the ground. He slowly lowered his phone. The valet pulled Sloane's black Porsche up to the curb. Elena walked over and opened the passenger door. Andrew suddenly stepped forward and slammed his hand flat against the top of the door, stopping her from getting in. He stared at her face, searching for the weak, quiet girl he thought he knew. Elena met his gaze. Her eyes were dark, cold, and entirely empty of the love she used to fake for him. A sharp pain hit Andrew's ch**t. He ignored it. "Don't play games tomorrow," Andrew warned through gritted teeth. "Sign the papers." "Bring them at nine," Elena said. She looked at his forehead. A faint, greyish shadow hovered over his skin. "And Andrew," Elena added, her tone shifting to something eerie and serious. "Stay away from large bodies of water. Or it will k**l you." Andrew scoffed, a harsh sound of disbelief. "Save your cheap curses for someone who cares." Elena sl**ped his hand off the car door. She slid into the leather seat and pulled the door shut with a loud slam. Sloane hit the gas. The Porsche engine roared, leaving Andrew standing on the curb next to his vomiting friend. Inside the car, Sloane hit the steering wheel with her palms. "That was incredible!" Sloane yelled. "Did you see his face? You broke Jett in half!" Elena leaned her head back against the headrest. She watched the city lights blur past the window. Her ch**t felt light. The suffocating weight of the Macdonald family was finally gone. She pulled out her phone. She opened her contacts. With a few quick taps, she blocked Andrew's number. Then Jett's. Then Beatrice's. She deleted her entire past. Back on the street, Andrew watched the red taillights of the Porsche disappear. His heart beat too fast. A strange, suffocating panic gripped his throat. Kaitlynn walked out of the c**b. She reached out to touch his arm. Andrew flinched. He pulled his arm away, taking a step back from her. &3&
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Ten years later, I ran into Liam Carter again at a class reunion. All our classmates, successful now, were married with kids. Only Liam was still single. “Serena, Liam’s waiting for you. He hasn’t dated or gotten married in years.” They’d barely finished speaking when Liam walked in. He walked in, sharp in a suit, and everyone gasped. Ten years later, Liam was still drop—dead gorgeous. The youthful arrogance was gone, though. A calm maturity now settled in his brow. Knowing our history, they made sure Liam and I sat together. He kept sneaking glances at me, like he had a million things to say. But all he managed was a soft, “Rena, long time no see.” “Yeah, long time no see.” I responded blandly, my face completely devoid of any emotion about our long—awaited reunion. Childhood sweethearts, totally inseparable, but we ended up like strangers. I remembered the party after high school graduation, when he cut a slice of watermelon for the new transfer student. This time, I didn’t cry. I just quietly ended things. “All because of a piece of watermelon?” “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Fine. Just try to stick with it for more than a couple days this time. Give me some peace.” I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed my bag and left the private room. This time, he didn’t immediately follow me out like he always did. He figured I was just throwing another tantrum, that in a few days, once I cooled down, I’d naturally come crawling back to him, just like before. After all, that’s how all ninety—nine previous breakups went. But what he didn’t know was that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My heart, repeatedly stung and already riddled with holes, had finally run out of its last shred of warmth and hope. With that ninety—ninth breakup, I was truly done with him. Liam and I had always been known throughout the school as a match made in heaven. He was the school’s golden boy, tall with long legs, a face so chiseled it was almost intimidating. He always rocked a cool, black windbreaker, all swagger and charm, drawing girls in like crazy. But his eyes? They were always, only, on me. We were childhood sweethearts, practically glued at the hip growing up. At our baby party when we were just one, it was like we picked each other, destined from the start. By seven, our parents had already joked about our marriage. At fourteen, we were passing love notes. Sixteen, he officially asked me out. Eighteen, we promised to get into the same college... Everything was perfect until our senior year. That’s when Tiffany Hayes, a new transfer student, showed up in our class. When the homeroom teacher set up the “buddy system” for new students, she specifically paired Tiffany with Liam. She made it crystal clear: “If you don’t take this on, you can forget about dating Serena Reed anywhere on campus.” Liam, who was usually so aloof and distant, had no choice but to take on the assignment. At first, it was just regular tutoring sessions and showing her around campus. But little by little, things started to feel really off. When Tiffany mentioned she craved a cake from that trendy bakery in Soho everyone queues for, he ditched football training to get it for her. When Tiffany posted on Instagram that she was feeling down, he stayed on the phone with her all night. And get this: one time, when she had period cramps, he borrowed money from me to buy her hot cocoa... I was furious. We fought. And that’s when I started breaking up with him, over and over again. The first time I dumped him, it was on the phone. There was this long silence on his end, then I heard his breathing, ragged and fast. It was a total downpour that night. He showed up at my place, soaked to the bone, and stood outside all night. His voice hoarse, he kept calling my name, begging me to forgive him. The second time I ended things, he skipped a whole day of classes, posted up outside my classroom door, his eyes bloodshot. He shoved a thick, messily written but totally heartfelt love letter into my hands, begging me to get back together, all humble and desperate. But as it happened more and more often, he finally seemed to figure out my bottom line... that I couldn’t actually leave him! So, his apologies started getting lazier and lazier. What used to be an instant makeup turned into a day later, then three days, then a week... Until the ninety—ninth time. All that pent—up disappointment and heartache, simmering for way too long, just burst. I finally decided to leave him for good. The first thing I did when I got home? Fired up my laptop and, without a second thought, changed my top choice on the application. It was supposed to be NYU, our dream school, but I switched it to UCLA, clear across the country. Next, I started clearing out everything that reminded me of him. Limited edition plushies he’d given me, matching couple bracelets, little notes filled with sweet nothings, a thick stack of photos... Each one held a memory – sweet, bittersweet – but now they all felt impossibly heavy. I shoved it all into one massive cardboard box. The next day, I hauled that heavy box over to his place. His butler, who knew me well, showed me straight into the living room. In the spacious living room, he and Tiffany were sitting side—by—side on the plush carpet, playing the latest video game. They were super close, and Tiffany kept letting out excited squeals and sweet, flirty giggles. “Wow, Liam, you’re incredible! I’ve been stuck on this level forever!” My eyes instantly fixed on the oversized black T—shirt Tiffany was wearing. It was the limited edition one I’d hunted down for his birthday last year, hitting up multiple malls just to find it. When he got it, he was so surprised he picked me up and spun me around a few times, then whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin, “Rennie gave this to me. I’m gonna wear it every single day.” Turns out, his “wear it every single day” promise actually meant he could just casually lend it to another girl like this. Tiffany must’ve felt my stare, because she turned around. Saw me standing there with the box, and a sweet, innocent smile bloomed on her face. “Oh, hey Serena! You’re here? Liam asked me to come over and play some games. And he even cooked me pasta himself! But I’m such a klutz, I accidentally knocked over my juice, so he lent me his shirt to wear. Hope you don’t mind?” Liam didn’t even flinch. He just lazily lifted his eyes, giving me a quick glance. His fingers were still flying across the controller. His voice was totally casual. “What do you want? Didn’t we break up?” Watching him act like he didn’t care at all, a wave of bitter self—mockery washed over me. I remembered the first time I’d brought up breaking up, how he’d been a mess in the pouring rain, practically begging me. Then I remembered how it took him longer and longer to win me back after our fights. And the last time, he’d just sent a WhatsApp message: “Stop being dramatic. I’ll take you for BBQ tonight. He kept pushing my boundaries, and because I kept caving and forgiving him, he just got bolder and bolder. But he had no idea that even a camel eventually gets broken by the last straw. This time, the ninety—ninth breakup, I was genuinely done with him. “Exactly because we broke up, I wanted to return some of your stuff.” “If you’re just gonna be dramatic, you can just toss it. No need to bring it all the way over.” “Okay.” I nodded, no hesitation. Carrying the cardboard box, crammed with memories, I walked over to the giant dumpster nearby. Without a second thought, I just pitched the whole thing in. The box hit the empty bin with a dull thud. 2 I turned to leave. “Wait.” He stopped me. “Take your stuff from my place too.” He probably thought I’d be hurt by that, just like always. That my eyes would well up and I’d ask, “Liam, what the hell?” And then he’d smoothly say, “Let’s not fight,” and everything would just blow over again. But I didn’t say anything. I just turned around, silent, and started to systematically clear out my stuff from this house – a place I’d once known so well, practically called it my second home. By the front door, those fuzzy bear slippers he’d specially bought with my initials; on the kitchen mug rack, the cute strawberry mug that was exclusively mine; on the living room couch, the light gray throw blanket I always used... I picked them out one by one, calmly tossing them into another empty cardboard box, as if I were just clearing out some irrelevant trash. Meanwhile, his little game with Tiffany started up again, a fresh round. During a break in their game, Tiffany announced she was thirsty, then very casually picked up his half—empty water glass and took a sip. And he, the serious germaphobe who used to cringe even at my half—finished boba tea, just glanced over and said absolutely nothing. Tiffany then pouted, saying she was hungry, craving specialty tacos from some old, far—off spot. He didn’t hesitate, immediately getting up, grabbing his car keys, and walking right out the door. I watched it all, but my heart, strangely, didn’t ache anymore. Just a numb, icy coldness remained. I grabbed the packed box and headed upstairs, needing to get the last few things from his room. The moment I pushed open his bedroom door, a figure blocked my path. It was Tiffany. A smirk plastered her face, triumph and challenge in her eyes. “You broke up with Liam. What are you even doing here, still trying to get a reaction?” I didn’t want to get into it with her. “I’m just here to get my stuff. Make a clean break.” “A clean break?” She scoffed. “You think playing these mind games is going to make Liam even look your way? He’s so over your dramatics. Every time you threatened to break up, you just knew he’d come begging, didn’t you? What else can you do besides cling to him?” “Let me tell you something. Everything you like, everything you want, I’m taking it. You copied his applications, hoping to cling to him forever, right? Well, too bad. I got into NYU too.” I’m gonna take him from you, piece by piece, until he’s completely mine. And you’ll get a front—row seat to watch yourself lose.” I wasn’t going to entertain her bullshit. Clutching the box, I tried to walk past her. But she wouldn’t let up. She grabbed my arm, her words turning even nastier. “What, did I hit a nerve? Cat got your tongue? Serena, seriously, have some shame! Your clinging is just disgusting! No wonder Liam got sick of you. Looks like your parents didn’t teach you squat, raising a...” SMACK! The sharp sound of a slap echoed, cutting off Tiffany’s vicious rant. I’d had enough. I lifted my hand and slapped her hard. I could handle being messed with, but no one, no one insulted my parents! She clutched her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. Then her face contorted with rage, and she raised her hand to hit me back! Just then, I heard the front door open downstairs, followed by footsteps. He was home. Tiffany’s eyes gleamed, a wicked idea already forming. She shrieked, then yanked my hand, dragging me down the stairs with her. “Aargh!” We both tumbled, hitting the first—floor landing with a sickening thud. My whole body screamed, every bone feeling shattered. My forehead slammed into the corner of a step, and warm blood instantly streamed down. Tiffany had taken a nasty fall too, but she scrambled up in a flash. Before I could even move, she clutched her face, strategically exposing the bright red slap mark I’d given her. Tears welled up instantly, gushing down as she sobbed dramatically, a perfect picture of distress. “Liam... Serena... she... she just came at me and hit me, then pushed me down the stairs... I’m in so much pain...” Liam’s eyes swept over the chaotic scene, his face hardening into a grim mask. He strode over, his eyes first landing on Tiffany, who was sobbing hysterically. Then his gaze, colder than ice, shot to me, struggling to get back on my feet. His voice was laced with frost. “Serena! What the hell is wrong with you?! This is my house. Who gave you the right to lay a hand on my guest?!” I bit back a gasp, fighting the searing pain and dizziness. “She insulted my parents first, that’s why I—” “Enough!” He didn’t even want to hear it, cutting me off sharply. His eyes were full of disappointment and impatience. “I don’t want to hear any excuses! Butler! See her out!” The Butler looked visibly uncomfortable, but still stepped forward, gesturing for me to leave. I watched him turn away without hesitation. He gently helped Tiffany up, then carefully cradled her to the sofa. He pulled out the first—aid kit and gently cleaned and dressed her wounds, as if she were some fragile, precious jewel. In that moment, my heart felt like it had been carved out of my chest. The pain was so intense, I could barely breathe. He used to treat me like that. I remember one time, I busted my knee in gym class. He went white as a sheet, totally panicked, and without a word, scooped me up and sprinted to the med center. The whole time, he kept whispering, “Don’t be scared, Rennie, it’ll be okay, the pain will be gone in a second. Back then, all his tenderness, all his frantic concern, it was all just for me. But now? All that care, all that patience, it was being showered on some other girl. All my explanations, all my hurt, they just choked in my throat, dissolving into a cold, crushing despair. I didn’t say another word, just dragged myself out, every inch of me aching and humiliated. I went to the hospital alone. The check—up revealed a mild concussion and a bunch of soft tissue bruises all over. The doctor wanted me to stay for observation. While I was recovering in the hospital, my phone kept buzzing. It was Tiffany, sending all sorts of taunting messages, along with photos and videos of him doting on her. He spoon—fed her porridge, peeled apples for her, and even took her for strolls in the garden. I just stared at them, my face blank, not replying to a single one. My heart was totally numb. Her provocations didn’t faze me one bit. 3 After I got out of the hospital, the class organized a graduation party. I really didn’t want to go, but my friends talked me into it. The moment I walked into the private room, I saw Liam and Tiffany sitting glued to each other. Tiffany was smiling, feeding him a piece of fruit. He didn’t refuse. When my classmates saw me, they all looked a bit awkward. They quickly gathered around, whispering, “Serena, what’s going on? You and Liam... fighting again?” I calmly shook my head. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough. “Not fighting. We broke up.” “What? Broke up?!” Everyone looked stunned. “Why? Liam was always so good to you!” “Yeah, seriously! When you got sick in senior year, he almost fought the dean just to get you a long medical leave!” “Oh, and! The surprises he’d plan for you every holiday? We were all so jealous!” “You two were the couple everyone thought would go from school uniforms to wedding gowns! How could you break up now, right before graduation?” Listening to them rattle off all his past ‘greatness,’ my heart felt like it was shriveling up in a pool of acid, bloated and throbbing. Yeah, he was that good to me once. Good enough that I genuinely believed he was my forever. But that’s precisely why his later coldness and favoritism felt so utterly brutal. I paused for a beat, then said softly, “We weren’t a match, so we broke up. Nobody’s indispensable. Besides,” My gaze flickered to him across the room, pouring Tiffany a drink. “He and Tiffany seem to be doing just fine now, don’t they?” He happened to catch what I said, frowning as he looked my way, his eyes unreadable. For the rest of the night, it was like he was deliberately trying to spite me. He went out of his way to be even more overtly affectionate with Tiffany, super attentive, practically glued to her side. He probably expected me to get jealous, to get mad, maybe even storm over and break them up like I used to. But I didn’t. I just sat quietly in my corner, chatting occasionally with whoever was nearby, my gaze calm and unruffled. As if he genuinely was just some random stranger, completely irrelevant to me now. But that utter silence, my complete dismissal, seemed to spark a kind of panic in him he’d never felt before. He instinctively started to move toward me, but Tiffany, right there beside him, grabbed his arm. Tiffany stood on her tiptoes, whispering something in his ear. He stopped cold, a deep frown creasing his forehead, and finally, just sat back down. Soon enough, someone suggested a round of Truth or Dare. A few rounds later, Tiffany lost. Her dare? Kiss the tallest guy in the room for three minutes. All eyes instantly snapped to him. Tiffany’s face flushed, but her eyes held a challenging glint as she walked straight up to him. The other classmates gasped, whispering, “Whoa... this is totally messed up, right? Serena’s literally right here!” Tiffany, though, shot a glance at me in the corner, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Serena, you and Liam are totally over. So, you’re cool with us playing a game and kissing, right?” Her best friend immediately chimed in, “Seriously! She’s his ex now, what right does she have to tell Liam who he can kiss?” Instantly, every eye in the room, including his, was on me like a spotlight. His gaze was intense, holding an unspoken pressure, as if he was waiting for my reaction. I lowered my head, my long lashes veiling any emotion in my eyes. My voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the silence, clear to everyone. “...Yeah, it has nothing to do with me.” Those words drew a definitive line. His face instantly darkened, his eyes blazing with fury and a simmering rage from being defied. He let out a sharp, cold scoff, then abruptly pulled Tiffany by the waist. To everyone’s shocked gasps, he slammed his lips onto hers! A wave of suppressed gasps and sharp intakes of breath swept through the private room, only to be swallowed by an eerie, deathly silence. I just watched as they full—on made out under the lights, practically glued to each other. Tiffany’s hand even snaked up around his neck. My heart felt like it was caught in a vice, a sharp, cramping pain that nearly buckled me. I dug my nails into my palms, digging in so hard it hurt, desperately trying to keep the crushing bitterness and despair from totally drowning me, from making me lose it right then and there. It felt like an eternity, but that agonizingly long kiss finally broke. Tiffany’s best friend practically yelled, “So, Liam, how was that? Kissing our Tiffany... gotta be a whole lot more exciting than with some other girls, huh?” His gaze swept over my pale face, a cold, cruel smirk playing on his lips. His voice was low, but every word cut deep: “No comparison. Tiffany... total knockout.” 4 Tiffany’s smugness was practically oozing off her. After a few more rounds, Tiffany lost again. This time, her dare was to sit on a guy’s lap and complete a specific task. Tiffany didn’t even hesitate, her eyes immediately darting back to Liam. I couldn’t take it anymore. I shot up, muttered something about needing the restroom to my friend, and practically sprinted out of that suffocating private room. I hid in the restroom, splashing cold water on my face again and again, but the tears just kept coming, mixing with the water. It took forever to get myself somewhat together. I just wanted to go home. As I turned the corner down the hall, I heard familiar voices coming from the patio. It was Liam and his closest buddies. “Liam, dude, wasn’t that a bit much back there? Serena looked ghost—white. Aren’t you gonna go check on her?” “Check on her?” He scoffed, a cold sound. “So she can break up with me again in a few days? Am I a glutton for punishment?” “True... it’s your own fault for spoiling her, though. She’d always pull the breakup card. Maybe this is a good chance for her to finally learn her lesson.” Exactly. Once classes start at NYU, she’ll be in a new city, won’t know anyone. She’ll definitely come crawling back. Then you just throw her a bone, and she’ll beg for you back. After this, she won’t dare threaten to break up with you again. Perfect. Standing outside the door, every drop of blood in me turned to ice. My hands and feet went completely numb with cold. So, in his eyes, all those times I tried to break up with him, all that pain and disappointment? It was just me ‘throwing a tantrum,’ just ‘a way to manipulate him.’ And his ‘lesson’ for me? To humiliate me in front of everyone by kissing another girl! I silently turned and walked away, down the stairs. The summer night wind brushed against me, but it was so cold it made me tremble. As I walked, memories flashed through my mind like a silent film. There was a time when, if I so much as frowned, he’d get all anxious, asking if I was feeling unwell. Back then, girls would constantly try to give him love letters. He’d always refuse them without even glancing, then come straight to me, looking for praise. “Rennie,” he’d boast, “I rejected another one today, all on my own. Praise me!” I’d gotten so used to his kindness, to him treating me like I was his one—of—a—kind treasure. When did it all change? It started the day Tiffany showed up. He’d break his own rules for Tiffany, again and again, completely ignoring my feelings. It wasn’t like I didn’t notice how Tiffany was special to him, or how he treated her differently. I was just clinging to that last sliver of hope, using breakup threats again and again to test him, to try and win him back. But all it did was make him see me as annoying and childish. Turns out, once I wasn’t his one and only anymore, even my tears were wrong. Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed I was almost home. From a distance, I spotted a mail carrier standing by my front door. Guess my acceptance letter finally arrived. I took a deep breath, just about to step forward, when I saw a tall, familiar figure standing with the mailman. It was him! He was holding one of the envelopes, clearly marked with UCLA logo, and he was about to rip it open...
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🎬👉Emília se casa com Ruan Andrade, mas acaba descobrindo a traição dele com a atriz Viviane Duarte e decide pedir o divórcio. Buscando sua independência, ela retorna ao mundo da atuação e conhece Guilherme Montenegro, amigo de Ruan. Entre mal-entendidos e conflitos, a verdade vem à tona. Quando Ruan se fere gravemente ao tentar salvar Emília, os dois deixam o passado para trás. Eles se reconciliam e decidem recomeçar juntos, abrindo um novo capítulo em suas vidas.
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Two rival hockey players who can't standeach other-yet share a wild one-night stand in a storage room. After the game, Adam and James crash into each other's bodies. Then their parents announce they're getting married. Forced into the same bed as stepbrothers, they go from barely tolerating each other to becoming unexpectedly close. Step by step, the walls fall. 1Their bodies tell the truth. Whoever drops the act first... loses.
32TB High-Capacity External Portable Hard Drive Offers an exceptionally large storage capacity of 32 Terabytes (TB). Connects via a high-speed interface for fast data transfer rates. Provides a portable solution for backing up, storing, and transporting massive amounts of data (files, videos, backups). Suitable for professionals, content creators, or users requiring vast offline storage for archives or media libraries.
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WARNING: A Mysterious World Awaits! Join Olivia on a thrilling quest to uncover hidden secrets and restore magical places. Ready to explore the unknown?
⚽🚨 World Cup 2026 Sale Now Live!🚨⚽ This is the biggest deal we've ever offered — and it's only available until kickoff. Here's what you get: ✅ Cinemaster PRO 4K Projector — 60% OFF ✅ FREE 100" Portable Projector Screen ✅ FREE Gaming Stick + 2 Controllers (12,000 retro games for halftime) 100 inches. Indoor or outdoor. Set up in 2 minutes. Watch every single World Cup game the way it deserves to be watched — on a massive screen in your backyard with your crew. ⚠️ Once the tournament starts, this deal is gone. We won't restock at this price. Don't wait until kickoff to wish you'd grabbed this.
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This is the viral Kickstarter that everyone’s calling genius! - Limited time Kickstarter pricing - Build RPG maps with stamps - Easy to use and small to store - Ships out at the end of summer 6400+ pre-ordered theirs already! Head to Kickstarter to check out Tabletop Stamps: Dungeons.
Sr. Andrade, Você Não Dá Conta! Emília se casa com Ruan Andrade, mas acaba descobrindo a traição dele com a atriz Viviane Duarte e decide pedir o divórcio. Buscando sua independência, ela retorna ao mundo da atuação e conhece Guilherme Montenegro, amigo de Ruan. Entre mal-entendidos e conflitos, a verdade vem à tona. Quando Ruan se fere gravemente ao tentar salvar Emília, os dois deixam o passado para trás. Eles se reconciliam e decidem recomeçar juntos, abrindo um novo capítulo em suas vidas.
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My videos were stuck at 567 views 😞 But then… 5K+ views in just 7 days Here’s what changed 👇 I stopped blaming the algorithm, using trending audio and tweaking my script. The real problem: weak hooks. Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, Facebook do not reward ‘good content.’ They reward clear signals If you don't grab attention in the first few seconds nothing else gets seen. But when you know how to write hooks that instantly grab attention and pull people in, everything changes. More views More followers increased watch time Now my videos get crazy engagement and I did it with the same niche, the same topics, and the same phone camera. I made a quick little program for creators called The Viral Hook Vault. You get 2,000+ viral hooks pulled from proven viral videos, ads and reels, You pick a hook, tweak it to your niche, and post it! Get The Viral Hook Vault today and save 70% off the regular price (Limited Time Only). 👉 www.theviralhookvault.com (Over 1,100 creators are already scaling with these hooks) See you inside.
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⚽🚨 World Cup 2026 Sale Now Live!🚨⚽ This is the biggest deal we've ever offered — and it's only available until kickoff. Here's what you get: ✅ Cinemaster PRO 4K Projector — 60% OFF ✅ FREE 100" Portable Projector Screen ✅ FREE Gaming Stick + 2 Controllers (12,000 retro games for halftime) 100 inches. Indoor or outdoor. Set up in 2 minutes. Watch every single World Cup game the way it deserves to be watched — on a massive screen in your backyard with your crew. ⚠️ Once the tournament starts, this deal is gone. We won't restock at this price. Don't wait until kickoff to wish you'd grabbed this.
𝗛𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗮𝗠𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗮 is a group of friends who make art and music, and we do arty crafty events and areas at festivals. For many years we have put on events in East London, mixing arts and crafts with fun bands and live music and comedy. Everyone can chill out, paint, draw and get creative and make some new friends while enjoying the music. No workshops, no rules. This is pure unadulterated fun! We are celebrating 20 years of making an arty mess on 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗠𝗮𝘆 𝟭𝟳𝘁𝗵 back at 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗲𝗻’𝘀 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯 where it all started. We’ll have live music from some our favourite acts… Two Lost Map Records bands: 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 and (the crazy) 𝗢𝘄𝗲𝗻 & 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝘆𝗲𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, as well as electro-pop fun from the magical 𝗕𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝗭𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗰 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘃𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 and singer songwriter 𝗘𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗶𝘅 as well as lots of fun and games and lashings of art materials. Hope you can make it… Come along and 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗙𝗙, 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦, 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗔 𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦! You can get tickets at http://www.hungamunga.co.uk Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, 42-49 Pollard Row, London E2 6NB Limited number of Early bird tickets: £14.30 (inc booking fee) Advance tickets: £16.50 (inc booking fee) Pay on door: £15 Spaces are limited so get there early Sunday 17th May 2026 Doors 6pm Music starts at 6.30 Over 18s only All the best Lloyd (aka moondog loves you) and the HungaMunga posse
£100k+ in High-Value Treatments. In 90 Days. No chasing leads. No guessing games. Just booked patients, branded content, and clear ROI. This is the 7-Figure Patient Engine — built for practices serious about scaling Invisalign, Implants, Veneers & Smile Makeovers. Just ask our clients: ➞ 20–40+ consults/month for premium treatments ➞ 10x+ return on ad spend ➞ £100k+ added treatment revenue in less than 90 days What we install for you: ➞ High production monthly video content ➞ Full social media management ➞ Paid ads across Facebook, IG, Google & TikTok ➞ We follow up and book the patients for you ➞ Reactivation & retention flows to revive past leads ➞ Live ROI dashboard tracking every £1 in, £3–10 out Common problems we fix: ➞ Poor quality leads that ghost ➞ Staff overwhelmed by manual follow-up ➞ Zero clarity on what’s actually working You get the brand, the bookings, and the growth — without lifting a finger. And the best part You’re backed by a 30-day satisfaction guarantee Spots are extremely limited (1 clinic per area) 👇 Book your strategy call now to see if it’s a fit
No fake ads. No “pay to pass this level.” No waiting for energy to refill. Mystery Town gives you the full game experience — for free. Once you start, it’s hard to stop. 😉
⚽🚨 World Cup 2026 Sale Now Live!🚨⚽ This is the biggest deal we've ever offered — and it's only available until kickoff. Here's what you get: ✅ Cinemaster PRO 4K Projector — 60% OFF ✅ FREE 100" Portable Projector Screen ✅ FREE Gaming Stick + 2 Controllers (12,000 retro games for halftime) 100 inches. Indoor or outdoor. Set up in 2 minutes. Watch every single World Cup game the way it deserves to be watched — on a massive screen in your backyard with your crew. ⚠️ Once the tournament starts, this deal is gone. We won't restock at this price. Don't wait until kickoff to wish you'd grabbed this.
No fake ads. No “pay to pass this level.” No waiting for energy to refill. Mystery Town gives you the full game experience — for free. Once you start, it’s hard to stop. 😉
🚀Just Launched 🐦 Don't miss our Unique Early Birds Offer! Discover RPG Stories VTT! Back Today the 3D VTT where you can at last: ✅Build with just a Click & Draw ✅Play in it in full 3D with Rulsets ✅Upload and Share Anything you like...even your own 3D Models!
Every duel begins before the first card is drawn. Inspired by ancient symbols, shadow games, and battles decided by belief, this vintage-washed tee captures tension — that quiet second before everything changes. Faded black cotton layered with arcane details and fractured sigils, like something pulled from a forgotten duel disk era. The back graphic reflects destiny and risk — cards suspended mid-air, fate waiting to flip. The front stays minimal. Controlled. Focused. Not about luck. About trust. Trust in the deck. Trust in the moment. Trust in yourself when the odds say otherwise. Because sometimes the difference between losing and rewriting fate is a single draw. It’s time to duel. #Yugioh #DuelMonsters #VintageStreetwear #AnimeAesthetic #HeartOfTheCards #AltFashion
ADHD doesn't just affect focus. It affects the vestibular system too—the "balance GPS" that helps the brain process everything from coordination to attention to emotional regulation. 💙 "My son has ADHD and I couldn't get him to stick with anything. Therapy exercises? Forget it. But this board? He's on day 47 and still asks to do it every morning. His teacher even called to ask what we changed." — Rachel K. | Mom of 8-year-old with ADHD ✅ 190 OT-designed exercises disguised as games—with levels and badges kids actually want to earn ✅ Targets the 3 core areas OTs focus on: postural control, sensory integration, and reflex integration ✅ 91% of parents report visible improvement in just 3 weeks ✅ Just 10 minutes a day ✅ 60-day money-back guarantee—not seeing results? Every penny back. 🔥 30% OFF for a limited time ADHD is hard enough. Don't let their balance make it harder 👉
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MAJOR PADEL ANNOUNCEMENT 🚨 Central Birmingham Padel is coming to the brand-new outdoor courts at Aston University 🎾 🔥 Weekly matches ⏱ 30-minute games 🕖 Rotating match times: 7:00 / 7:30 / 8:00 / 8:30 🏆 Official league format with referees & live standings 🎯 Intermediate level players THE ONLY PADEL LEAGUE IN BIRMINGHAM. £10 per individual per week (we will assign you a team) £20 per week per pair DM to join 👊
Uncover Ancient Egypt's hidden secrets with Olivia! Merge artifacts, solve puzzles & unravel mysteries. Relaxing yet addictive fun awaits! Join the quest?
Your Childhood Called… It Wants You to Game Again! 🎮 From Mario to Mortal Kombat, it’s all packed into one little stick. Warning: May cause extreme nostalgia and sudden button-mashing.😉 ✅ All your childhood favorites in one place 🕹️ 2 wireless controllers = battle-ready 🧠 No downloads or setup required 📺 Works on any TV 👶 Finally show your kids what real games looked like 🎯 Don’t miss this trip back in time. Limited stock!
Embark on an adventure with Olivia! 🌿 Uncover hidden secrets and restore magical places. Discover a world of wonder, one forgotten spot at a time. Get ready to explore! 🏞️
Abandoned for centuries, a forgotten city lies hidden in Egypt's sands. Join Olivia, a fearless archaeologist on a mission to uncover its secrets! Will you help her restore the lost metropolis? | Abandoned for centuries, a forgotten city lies hidden in Egypt's sands. Join Olivia, a fearless archaeologist on a mission to uncover its secrets! Will you help her restore the lost metropolis?
Abandoned for centuries, a forgotten city lies hidden in Egypt's sands. Join Olivia, a fearless archaeologist on a mission to uncover its secrets! Will you help her restore the lost metropolis?