Chapter 3

Once I'd made my decision, I began packing methodically.

Two weeks was enough time to arrange everything and then disappear completely.

I picked up my phone and began canceling one by one: the wedding venue, the floral arrangements, the photography team, the reception banquet. Each cancellation felt like a tiny cut on my heart—not deep, but countless.

When I finished, I called Sophia to help me pack. We made trip after trip, moving sealed boxes to the storage room, until the apartment that once held traces of a shared life stood empty.

Sophia stood in the center of the living room, looking around with a complicated expression. Just two months ago, on the night Julian proposed, she'd stayed up celebrating with me all night, watching me babble incoherently with excitement.

"Are you serious, Moira?" she finally asked. "When you said you were calling off the wedding, I thought you were just venting. You've given so many years to Julian—what on earth happened?"

I told her everything: Freya's return, Julian's public announcement that she was his fiancée, the test result showing three weeks pregnant, and his demand that I take the fall for the kidnapping.

Sophia's face flushed with rage. "You gave up everything for him, and he gets another woman pregnant right before your wedding? Did a dog eat his conscience?"

I shook my head, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. "He said Freya once saved his life, so he has to give her whatever she wants."

"A life debt?" Sophia scoffed. "What about everything you've done for him? Why isn't he grateful to you?"

I didn't answer.

Maybe the answer was simple—Julian had never truly loved me.

I met Julian in college.

Back then, he'd just been abandoned by Freya. She said she was going to Los Angeles to chase her dream of stardom, that long-distance was too hard, and left without looking back. Julian wandered around campus like a man who'd lost his soul for three whole months. Every night, he'd show up at the bar where I worked, numbing himself with whiskey.

I remember that night—he'd passed out at the bar, and a few thugs were about to jump him. I grabbed the phone and coldly threatened to call the police, which scared them off. I stayed by his side the whole night, watching his brow stay furrowed even in sleep.

We grew closer after that. He started confiding in me, telling me all about his time with Freya. I listened quietly, handing him glass after glass of warm water, naively believing that time could heal everything.

Three months later, he confessed his feelings. There was a desperate light in his eyes. He said he liked me, asked if I'd give him a chance. I nodded, thinking my love could fill the void in his heart.

Only now did I understand—some wounds never heal, and some people live forever in the past. Julian's heart had never truly left Freya. I was just a harbor where he'd temporarily anchored.

That's why, when Freya came back, he could abandon me again and again without hesitation. Could publicly announce she was his fiancée. Could sacrifice me as a matter of course to protect her reputation.

What was even more absurd—he'd gotten her pregnant.

We were supposed to have our wedding next month. The mermaid-cut gown I'd carefully chosen still hung in the closet, now nothing but a cruel joke.

Now he had a new fiancée and a child on the way. So what did that make me? What did five years of love amount to?

The answer couldn't be clearer—he had never loved me. Staying in this relationship would only drain away what was left of my dignity, drop by drop.

Sophia sighed and stopped trying to persuade me. She just helped me pack in silence.

Just then, the lock clicked. Julian pushed open the door, Freya clinging to his arm.

Julian's gaze swept over the cardboard boxes in the living room, and his brow furrowed immediately. "Moira, what are you doing?"

I didn't look up, continuing to sort through the things in front of me. "Spring cleaning. Getting rid of things I don't need anymore."

"Things you don't need?" His tone was skeptical. Beside him, Freya gently tugged at his arm.

Julian took a deep breath, his voice turning hard. "Listen, Freya's new drama is about to start filming. To minimize the negative publicity, she needs to stay here for a while."

"Suit yourself." My voice was calm.

He studied me, clearly unsettled. "You're... not angry?"

"Your decision. I have no right to interfere." I pulled Sophia back, my voice steady. "No need to prolong this. Let's get these out of here."

Julian stood rooted to the spot, his expression shifting. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped.

Just then, Freya said softly, "Julian, could you get me a glass of water?"

He immediately headed for the kitchen.

The moment he turned away, the fragility vanished from Freya's face. She walked over to the box I'd just finished packing, and her stiletto "accidentally" kicked it over. Its contents spilled across the floor.

"Oops, sorry." She covered her mouth, triumph glinting in her eyes.

I looked at her coldly.

The next second, she suddenly stumbled backward, collapsed to the floor, and screamed. "Moira! What are you doing! Julian! She pushed me!"

"Moira!" Julian came rushing out of the kitchen and shoved me aside.

I staggered and slammed into the cabinet. A sharp pain shot through my shoulder, spreading along the bone.

He pulled Freya into his arms and fixed me with an icy glare. "Have you lost your mind? She's a patient!"

"I didn't do anything." I steadied myself against the cabinet, my voice calm.

Sophia walked up, her eyes cold. "Julian, I saw exactly what happened. She kicked over the box and then fell. As a man, the least you could do is check the security footage before accusing anyone."

His face changed, but Freya immediately burst into tears, clinging to his shoulder. "Julian, I'm in so much pain..."

He wrapped his arms tightly around Freya and looked at me coldly. "I'm taking her to the hospital now. If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."

Without another word, he headed for the door.

Sophia took a step forward, about to say something more, but I grabbed her arm. Her face was flushed with rage, but she stopped.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Sophia was shaking with fury. "She did that on purpose! Can't Julian see that?"

I didn't speak. I just crouched down and slowly began picking up the scattered belongings.

It didn't matter. I'd be gone soon anyway.