On Our Anniversary, I Watched Him Love My Sister Publicly 1
“Belle, if you choose to resign, then according to the confidentiality agreement, you’ll never be allowed to see Miguel again. Are you certain about this?”
“Yes.”
The boss at Neville Entertainment hesitated. “You’ve been together for six years, worked as his assistant for three. The person Miguel relies on most is you…”
The person he relies on most was it really me?
A bitter smile tugged at my lips just as my phone lit up with the top headline of the day.
[Movie King Miguel’s romance exposed, seen entering a hotel with a mystery woman. How sweet.]
In the photo, Miguel Atkinson gently tucked a strand of Saoirse Pearson’s hair behind her ear, his movements tender, as if handling a fragile treasure.
Later, the paparazzi revealed he had bought ten extra-large condoms that same day.
And that very day, while trying to intercept the leaked bed photos of him and Saoirse, I was stabbed three times by crazed paparazzi. Each stab was nearly fatal.
My hand instinctively pressed to my chest, trying to soothe the dull ache beneath.
‘Hmm. This is what Miguel wants, too.”
Six years of secrecy turned into a cruel joke from that moment on.
t wasn’t that he couldn’t go public. He simply didn’t love me enough to want to.
After I was discharged, I didn’t seek him out.
went straight to the company and handed in my resignation.
Seven days later, on the anniversary of our six-year relationship, I prepared my final gift to him: To disappear from his life for good.
The next morning, Miguel returned, the chill of the wind still clinging to his coat.
‘Baby, I’m back. I even brought your favorite chocolate cake.”
He wrapped me gently in his arms, but something tightened in my throat.
That unfamiliar perfume lingering on his clothes filled the room, reminding me that he’d once held Saoirse the same way.
While I lay cold and unconscious in a hospital bed, he had spent the night wrapped in warmth with my stepsister.
The phone on the table lit up with a headline I knew too well.
His expression faltered, and then he rushed to explain.
‘That post is fake. Nothing happened between me and Saoirse. She was drugged. I was just helping her out.”
The trending post was fake. The bed photos were fake. Then what, exactly, was real?
I smiled bitterly, pressing against the dull ache from my stab wound.
2/4 0.9%
1:56 pm
“Then, shall we go public?”
“No!” Miguel instinctively snapped.
Realizing how harsh it sounded, he softened his tone.
“I’m at a crucial point in my career. If we go public now, it could ruin future deals, mess with my schedule…”
“Just wait a little longer, okay?”
For six whole years, I had heard that line again and again.
When he debuted, when he filmed his first movie, when he received his very first award, I waited through every moment, day and night.
I sat there on the couch, dazed, like a wooden puppet with no life left.
The pain in my wound slowly faded, replaced by a sting in my nose and a rising urge to cry.
Trying to ease the silence, Miguel picked up a beautifully wrapped bag.
“This chocolate cake’s from your favorite shop. I even got their VIP membership. From now on they’ll deliver it to you every day.”
He scooped up a small piece and brought it to my lips.
“Ah-”
I was just about to turn away when his phone rang.
It was his agent, Lori Watson.
In a rush, Miguel pushed the spoon toward me. The metal edge scraped my lip, and a drop of blood fell onto the pure white tablecloth.
But he didn’t even glance at it. He simply stood and walked into the study.
Still, I could faintly hear his low voice behind the door, “Going public with Saoirse was my idea. She’s innocent. Those photos were leaked. If I don’t protect her, she might do something reckless.”
“…And Belle? She’s always been sensible. She can’t live without me. She won’t make a fuss.” Tears finally slid down as I forced down the cold cake.
1
Suddenly, hives bloomed along my exposed arm, and that’s when I realized I was having an allergic reaction.
There were nuts in the cake. The one thing I never ate.
Ten minutes later, Miguel finished his call, tossed on his coat, and got ready to leave. “Belle, Lori has a job for me. I need to head out. Eat well tonight, okay? Or I’ll feel bad.”
Too bad the man who claimed to love me most forgot my nut allergy.
He didn’t even notice the tear tracks on my cheeks or the blood at the corner of my mouth.
I stepped in front of him and handed over a folder.
“There’s a document I need you to sign.”
His phone buzzed a custom tone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the name on the screen: “Baby Saoirse.”
1:57 pm
His face didn’t change as he flipped to the last page and signed.
He leaned in and kissed my forehead.
“Good girl. I trust you. If there’s anything else, just take care of it. No need to ask me again.”
I stood by the window, quietly watching his figure disappear into the distance.
Then, a message lit up on my phone as if trying to soothe the sting in my chest.
[Saoirse and I are just for show. The one I love is you.]
[Be good. For our sixth anniversary, let’s go to Love Island, the place you’ve always dreamed of.] I still remember that afternoon.
My stepmother, Giselle Lewis, moved into the room that once belonged to my mother, bringing Saoirse along with her.
I cried and threw a tantrum, only to be silenced by a harsh slap from my father.
After that, Saoirse would steal my toys, tear my textbooks, and turn the entire school against
But Armani always favored her.
So, I was the one who got punished.
The one left with bruises on my arms and knees, time and time again.
When Miguel found out, he pulled me into his arms, eyes filled with anguish.
‘I’ll always be on your side, Belle. Even if the whole world turns its back on you, you’ll still have me.”
I had cried then, touched to the core.
never imagined that six years later, he’d be in bed with the very girl who once made my life hell.
After a long pause, I scrolled through my contacts and found a number I hadn’t touched in years.
‘Marcus, I’m leaving the capital in a week. Can you come pick me up?”
2
I bit my lip in frustration. After all these years, I thought I’d only be met with a glaring red exclamation mark.
But unexpectedly, the phone rang almost instantly.
“Belle, what’s gotten into you? Did you lose a game of truth or dare?”
“I’ve been chasing after you since I was in open-crotch pants, and you never even glanced my way. What’s this supposed to mean now?”
Marcus Murphy, my childhood friend.
The first word he ever uttered wasn’t “Mama,” but “Belle.”
When I scraped my knee learning to walk, the one I ran to in tears wasn’t my father. It was Marcus.
Until I was sent overseas to study, and we lost all contact.
Suddenly, I realized how abrupt I had been and awkwardly mumbled, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking Just pretend you never saw the message…”
“Damn, not a chance.”
Marcus let out a low, sarcastic chuckle, his voice dropping.
“Since you’ve agreed to come to me, don’t even think about running again. I’ll pick you up mysel in a week.”
“Oh, and stop sticking around that fake-smile loser. Come to me. I’ll give you a life ten thousand times better than what you’ve got now.”
The next morning, I began packing my room, piece by piece.
In the closet were the gifts Miguel had given me, things I had once treasured for years.
Only now did I realize the watch had always been a size too small, the necklace was platinum, which I was allergic to, and even the matching pajamas were red, a color I had never liked?
My fingertips trembled, and my whole body felt like it had been plunged into ice.
So I had been this blind, this foolish, deceived for so many years without ever noticing.
The sudden chime of the doorbell snapped me out of my thoughts.
I opened the door to find Saoirse standing there, smiling like sunshine.
“Hi, sis. Miguel invited me over. You’re not going to say I’m unwelcome, are you?”
Before I could respond, she pushed her way in, eyes drifting toward the little garden outside.
“I don’t like these roses. Have them replaced with baby’s breath.”
Those dark red roses had once been flown in from Europe at great cost by Miguel during the height of our romance.
He once told me they symbolized his love for me. That as long as they bloomed, his love would never fade.
Instinctively, I tried to stop her, but a bodyguard stepped forward and coldly blocked me.
“Sorry, this is Mr. Atkinson’s order. Everything is to follow Miss Pearson’s preferences.”
“What…”
My mind went blank. I stumbled back a few steps, nearly collapsing.
The flowers were gone, and so was Miguel’s love.
Saoirse, increasingly smug, strolled freely around the villa like it already belonged to her.
“I don’t like this decor. Make it minimalist.”
The next second, the wall filled with a couple of photos of Miguel and me crashed to the floor the frames scattering like fallen leaves.
I stood off to the side, clutching Harper, quietly watching it all.
More and more things were destroyed, and my heart felt as hollowed out as the house around
Eventually, Saoirse was tired of wandering. Her sharp gaze landed on the puppy in my arms.
Harper, Miguel’s third-anniversary gift to me.
A soft, warm replacement for his absence after fame swept him away.
A bad feeling crept into my chest, and sure enough, the next second, she spoke lightly.
“I’m allergic to dog hair. Get rid of it.”
“No!”
Seeing me refuse, the bodyguard reached out to snatch the dog. In the struggle, I was dragged to the ground.
The sharp gravel tore open the skin on my arm and lower back. Blood soaked into the yellow earth, bright, jarring, impossible to ignore.
‘Belle!”
‘Who gave you permission to lay a hand on her?!”
Miguel suddenly rushed in, pulling me into his arms. His voice shook as he asked, “Baby, are you okay?”
His embrace was warm, just like before.
The grievance I had buried for so long finally burst free.
‘Miguel…”
‘Ah!”
A shrill scream sliced through the air. Saoirse teetered dangerously at the edge of the steps.
In the next breath, Miguel let go and bolted toward her.
I was thrown to the ground again. The old stab wound in my chest felt like it had torn open. Warm blood spread across my shirt.
Saoirse stood trembling, looking innocent and pitiful. Her voice was soft, aggrieved.
“Brother-in-law, I’m terrified of dogs. Thank you for saving me.”
“I really don’t want to make things hard for Sister. I’ll just leave…”
I struggled to sit up, fingertips trembling from the pain, but it still paled in comparison to the
