25
Miguel returned to the country in a daze.
He didn’t dare recall the blissful smile on my face at the wedding.
Even more, he couldn’t bring himself to imagine the intimacy shared between me and Marcus
after marriage.
Every time he thought about how the girl who once saw only him had now become another man’s wife, his chest clenched as though someone was ripping his heart apart.
After coming home, Miguel buried himself in bars and alcohol.
Only when his mind turned numb from drinking did he feel the slightest hint of relief.
In his drunken haze, he would often dream of me.
He would see me again, wearing a white dress, waving at him with a bright smile.
‘Miguel, look at this puppy. Isn’t it cute and fluffy?”
So he gave me a puppy, and I named it Harper.
When Miguel had just broken into the entertainment industry, the journey had been nothing but grueling.
wore a business suit for the first time, staying up all night researching brand preferences just tc
and him a role.
n return, Miguel held my hand and vowed to love only me in this lifetime.
After one blockbuster hit, Miguel finally shot to fame. Two years later, he became the youngest Best Actor in history.
But that year, he also chose to abandon me. His excuse was simple: he was “tired” of me.
‘No!”
Miguel woke with a jolt, clutching his chest, gasping as if he had just surfaced from deep water. He looked around at the empty room, panic creeping up his spine like a cold wind. After a long silence, he grabbed his suit jacket and headed straight for the nearest bar.
He was a regular, and the server led him straight to a private booth deep inside the lounge.
‘Mr. Atkinson, the next booth has been reserved by a VIP guest tonight. Should we…” Miguel waved it off with a light nod.
‘It’s fine. If they’re a VIP, they won’t make too much noise.”
As he passed the booth, something made him glance sideways, and his steps halted.
Inside sat a figure all too familiar.
It was Saoirse.
She wore a short, revealing skirt, her chest nearly spilling from her dress.
With a cigarette in her mouth and unsteady steps in tall heels, she swaggered forward without a
care.
She looked nothing like the sweet, innocent girl Miguel had once known.
His pupils contracted sharply. Without thinking, he quietly followed.
Saoirse stopped beside a sleek luxury car, where a woman, likely her friend, was waiting in the
driver’s seat.
She spoke with admiration. “This is one of those global limited editions, right? Must’ve been hell
to get.”
“My husband bought it for me. And what about that little celebrity you’ve been hanging out with? Haven’t seen him around lately. Tell him to get you one too?”
“Him?” Saoirse wrinkled her nose, eyes full of contempt.
“That broke loser? What could he possibly buy me? He’s just a nobody actor, barely earns enough for me to spend.”
“Here I thought Miss Saoirse was head over heels lately.”
Annoyed, Saoirse flicked her cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her heel.
“Love? I never loved him. I just couldn’t stand seeing my dear sister happy.”
“Now that Belle doesn’t love him anymore, he’s worthless to me.”
“And he’s laughably stupid, too. He believed every word I said. I told him Belle used to bully me when we were little, and he actually cried from how sorry he felt for me. Hahaha!”
Miguel stood frozen nearby as if plunged headfirst into a pit of ice. He couldn’t even hold onto his wine glass.
It slipped from his fingers and shattered against the pavement with a clear, piercing sound.
“Who’s there?!”
