I wasn't supposed to see it.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind as I stood frozen outside apartment 3B, my fingers still wrapped around the cheap plastic grocery bag cutting into my skin.
The door was slightly open.
Just enough.
Just enough for me to hear it.
A soft laugh.
A woman's laugh.
Not mine.
My heart didn't break right away.
No… it hesitated.
Like it didn't want to believe what my ears were already confirming.
No… Ethan wouldn't…
I took a step closer.
Then another.
Each step heavier than the last, like my body was trying to stop me from discovering something I couldn't unsee.
But I pushed forward anyway.
Because hope is stupid like that.
Fragile.
Blind.
And cruel.
The moment I reached the door, the truth didn't knock.
It slammed into me.
"…God, you're so much better than her," a woman's voice whispered, breathy and intimate.
Then—
Ethan laughed.
My Ethan.
The man I had loved for three years.
The man I trusted.
The man I thought I would marry.
"Don't compare yourself to Elena," he said casually. "She's just… convenient."
Convenient.
The word hit harder than anything else.
Not betrayal.
Not cheating.
Not even the fact that another woman was in our bed.
No.
It was that word.
Convenient.
Like I was nothing more than a placeholder.
A temporary solution.
A backup plan.
My fingers loosened.
The grocery bag slipped from my hand, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
The sound was louder than it should've been.
Too loud.
Because suddenly—
Everything went silent.
"…Did you hear something?" the woman asked.
Footsteps.
Coming closer.
My heart finally reacted.
It shattered.
I stumbled back just as the door swung open.
And there he was.
Ethan Carter.
Half-dressed.
Hair messy.
Lips slightly swollen.
Evidence of everything I didn't want to see… written all over him.
"Elena?"
His voice was full of shock.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Shock.
Like I was the problem here.
Like I wasn't supposed to be standing in front of my own apartment.
"Hey…" he started, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't what it looks like."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Because what did it look like?
Two people baking cookies?
Discussing philosophy?
Planning a surprise party for me?
My chest tightened.
Breathing suddenly felt… optional.
"Really?" I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "Because it looks pretty clear to me."
The woman appeared behind him.
Tall.
Blonde.
Confident.
Wearing my shirt.
My shirt.
The oversized gray one I always slept in.
The one Ethan used to say made me look cute.
Now it looked better on her.
Of course it did.
Everything probably did.
She crossed her arms, completely unbothered.
"Oh," she said, eyeing me from head to toe. "So this is Elena."
This is Elena.
Like I was a joke she had finally gotten to see in person.
Ethan sighed.
Actually sighed.
Like this whole situation was exhausting for him.
"Look, Elena," he said, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. "I was going to tell you."
"When?" I asked. "After I cooked you dinner? Or after you told me you loved me tonight?"
He didn't answer.
Because there was no answer.
Silence stretched between us.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Dead.
"You're overreacting," he finally muttered.
And just like that—
Something inside me snapped.
Overreacting?
I let out a hollow laugh, the kind that didn't belong to me.
"Overreacting?" I repeated. "You're cheating on me in our apartment, and I'm overreacting?"
"It's not that simple."
"It actually is."
My voice steadied.
Not because I was okay.
But because something inside me had already started shutting down.
Piece by piece.
Emotion by emotion.
"You cheated," I said. "That's it."
Ethan's expression hardened.
And that's when I saw it.
The truth I had been too blind to notice before.
He didn't care.
Not really.
"Look," he said, lowering his voice. "I didn't want to do this like this, but… maybe it's better this way."
My stomach dropped.
Better?
"I've been meaning to end things," he continued.
Every word felt like a knife.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Twisting deeper with each sentence.
"You're… holding me back, Elena."
Holding him back.
I nodded slowly.
Of course I was.
I was the girl working two jobs.
The girl struggling to pay rent.
The girl who believed in love over money.
And he?
He wanted more.
Better.
Easier.
Someone like her.
"Well," I said quietly, "you're free now."
For a second, something flickered in his eyes.
Relief.
Not sadness.
Not regret.
Relief.
And that hurt more than anything else.
I bent down, picking up the groceries with trembling hands.
Milk.
Eggs.
Bread.
The simple things I thought we needed.
The simple life I thought we were building.
How stupid.
"Elena—"
"Don't," I cut him off.
Because if he said my name one more time, I might break in a way I couldn't fix.
I walked past him.
Inside.
The apartment smelled different.
Not like home.
Not anymore.
I didn't look at the bedroom.
I didn't look at her.
I just walked straight to the kitchen, placed the groceries down, and grabbed my bag.
"That's it?" Ethan asked from behind me. "You're just leaving?"
I paused.
For a moment.
Just a moment.
Then I turned around.
And for the first time…
I looked at him like a stranger.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I am."
Because there was nothing left to stay for.
The night air hit me like a slap.
Cold.
Sharp.
Real.
I didn't know where I was going.
I didn't know what I was going to do.
All I knew was that I couldn't go back.
Not anymore.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
But something told me to check.
And that's when everything changed.
Hospital Calling.
My heart stopped.
No.
No, no, no—
I answered immediately.
"H-hello?"
"Is this Elena Carter?" a calm voice asked.
"Yes—yes, this is me."
"There's been a situation with your mother."
The world tilted.
"She collapsed earlier this evening. We've admitted her, but her condition is… critical."
Critical.
The word echoed in my head.
Loud.
Endless.
"What… what does that mean?" I whispered.
"It means," the voice said gently, "she needs immediate treatment."
Treatment.
Money.
A lot of money.
Money I didn't have.
My legs gave out.
I sank onto the cold pavement, my entire body shaking.
"How much?" I asked.
There was a pause.
Then—
"Approximately two hundred thousand dollars."
My breath caught.
Two hundred thousand.
It might as well have been two million.
Or two billion.
Because to me—
It was impossible.
"I…" My voice broke. "I don't have that kind of money."
"I understand," the voice said. "But without treatment…"
They didn't finish the sentence.
They didn't have to.
Because I already knew.
Tears blurred my vision.
Everything was falling apart.
My relationship.
My home.
And now—
My mother.
I laughed weakly, the sound empty and broken.
"Is this some kind of joke?" I whispered to no one. "Did I do something to deserve this?"
The universe didn't answer.
Of course it didn't.
It never does.
Another call came in.
Unknown number.
I almost declined it.
But something—
Something deep inside me—
Told me not to.
With shaking fingers, I answered.
"…Hello?"
A man's voice came through.
Deep.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Elena Carter."
Not a question.
A statement.
My heart skipped.
"Yes… who is this?"
There was a brief pause.
Then—
"I have a proposal for you."
Something about his tone made my skin prickle.
Dangerous.
Powerful.
Unavoidable.
"What kind of proposal?" I asked cautiously.
The man didn't hesitate.
"A contract marriage."
My breath hitched.
"I'll pay for your mother's treatment," he continued calmly. "Every dollar."
My mind went blank.
This wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
"And in return," he added, "you will marry me."
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
This time—
He answered.
"My name is Adrian Blackwood."
The name alone felt… heavy.
Like it carried power.
Money.
Control.
And something far more dangerous.
"This is your only offer, Miss Carter," he said coldly. "Think carefully."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Because deep down…
I already knew.
This wasn't an opportunity.
It was a trap.
And the worst part?
I had no choice but to walk into it.