Five years ago, my father's business rival set his sights on me. A group of men cornered me in a narrow alley. Just when everything was about to spiral beyond saving, Dominic appeared.
He fought more than a dozen of them alone, reckless and furious, like someone who had nothing to lose. I still remember the metallic scent of blood in the air and the sound of fists hitting flesh. He was stabbed more than once, collapsing in front of me as sirens wailed in the distance. Watching him bleed for me rewired something inside my heart forever.
A girl will always confuse gratitude with something deeper when her hero nearly dies at her feet. From that night on, I fell for him without hesitation, without calculation, without any sense of self-preservation. It wasn't gradual; it was absolute. I gave my heart away as if it had always belonged to him.
I confessed soon after, my voice trembling but determined. He hesitated only briefly before agreeing, and just like that, we stepped into a relationship that had to remain hidden from the world. For five years, we loved in shadows and silence. He told me that as long as he was alive, no one would ever bully me again.
I believed every word.
I gave him everything he asked for in bed, afraid that withholding even a piece of myself might make him leave. When he wanted something new, I learned it; when he demanded more, I gave more. I mistook obedience for devotion and sacrifice for proof of love. Every time he looked at me afterward, his gaze held something I once thought was intensity.
Now I know it was something closer to disdain.
That morning, I glanced at Dominic sleeping beside me, his expression calm and untouched by doubt. My back ached, and exhaustion clung to me like a second skin as I slipped quietly out of bed. The room felt colder than it should have, stripped of all illusion. I dressed in silence and left before he woke.
When I arrived home, I ran straight into my father at the door. He looked worn, briefcase in hand, already heading back to the company before the sun had fully risen. Guilt surged so violently it stole my breath. Since my mother passed away, he had carried both roles without complaint, exhausting himself just to give me stability. He ran between the company and home every day, often so exhausted he could barely sleep.
I hadn't helped him at all.
Instead, I had become the very source of the humiliation that would one day crush him. The weight of it overwhelmed me, and I threw myself into his arms, tears spilling before I could stop them. He stiffened in surprise and gently patted my back.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.
I shook my head, forcing myself to steady my breathing before answering. "The school wants to send me abroad as an exchange student," I said softly. "I just… I don't want to leave you." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either.
His eyes reddened as he ruffled my hair like he used to when I was little. "I don't want you to go either, kiddo," he said with a tired smile. "But you can't stay by my side forever. If you miss me, just come back."
"Okay," I whispered.
After watching him leave, I stood there for a long moment before submitting my visa application on my phone. The decision felt strangely calm, almost detached, as if my heart had already stepped outside my body. By the time I went in person to handle the paperwork, I thought I had prepared myself for anything. I was wrong.
Dominic was there.
And standing beside him, radiant and composed, was Brooke.
He stood close to her, his posture relaxed, his gaze soft in a way I had never truly seen before. Strangers nearby whispered excitedly, their admiration loud and unfiltered.
"Aren't they the couple from that fairy-tale wedding story online?" someone said. "He's handsome, she's stunning—they look perfect together."
"I heard they dated in college," another added. "She went abroad, and he stayed loyal the whole time, never seeing anyone else. Just waited for her."


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