The ambulance arrived quickly, and the paramedics took over from me, lifting Nathan onto the stretcher.Just as they were about to wheel him away, his voice cut through the chaos."Your hand."I blinked, confused, then lowered my gaze. My right palm was bleeding, a long gash running across it from when I had steadied him against the reef. I had not even felt it until now."You need treatment too." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. Then he turned to the medics."She's coming with me."…The town clinic was small, the air thick with the sharp scent of disinfectant.Nathan's wound was serious; he needed over a dozen stitches. I sat quietly to the side, letting a nurse clean and bandage my hand.He did not speak the whole time. His eyes, however, never once left me.When the doctor finished, he studied me for a moment and frowned."Your complexion doesn't look good. You'd better do a full examination."The diagnosis landed in front of me like a thunderclap: sever
Belle's perspective.The train ticket took me to a quiet seaside town, where I began a new life.There was a little bookstore in town, and I became the clerk who organized the shelves.The store was always hushed, with only two sounds breaking the silence: the rhythm of waves crashing against the seawall, and the soft rustle of pages turning.Joe's face, Ivy's words, the blinding lights of that celebration banquet–they all began to blur, as though fading into the distance.With my very first paycheck, I bought myself a brand-new set of paints.I painted rocks, seagulls, and children running across the sand.Slowly, the girl I used to be–the one who once dreamed of attending the Rhode Island School of Design–seemed to awaken again from deep within me.The bookstore had a special regular.Every day at exactly three in the afternoon, he would show up. He always sat on the sofa by the window, ordered a black coffee, and opened his sketchbook. He would stay there the entire afterno
Later, Joe used his scholarship money to buy it back. He said the pocket watch symbolized our love, and it could not be sold.I placed that very watch on top of his speech notes.Beside it, I set down the black credit card he had given me just yesterday.He had said the money inside was my 'compensation', that I would not have to work so hard anymore.I never checked the balance, and I never would.My youth. My dreams.The last memento from my late mother.Everything–I had poured into this place, into him.Finally, I was leaving it all behind. Including Joe.Dragging my suitcase, I opened the door.Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Joe.[Where are you? The banquet isn't over yet. Stop sulking.]I stared at his words, my face blank.Then I dragged his number, along with every contact detail, into the blacklist and powered off my phone.…Joe's perspective.When I pushed open the apartment door, darkness greeted me.The place looked emptier.
"My grandfather's death anniversary is coming up," I told him, an excuse so flimsy that even I did not believe it."You're going back to your hometown?" Joe's voice carried a trace of relief.I nodded, staring at my worn-out suitcase.He did not press further, simply placed the train ticket back on the table. He despised that little town where he was born, just as much as he despised the scandal-ridden mother who raised him.Then, he handed me the invitation card for his promotion banquet."Belle, this is our shared achievement. Without you, I wouldn't be here today."Shared achievement. The words felt like mockery.The achievement was his. I had nothing—not only had I lost my dreams, but I had lost myself too.The banquet was held at the university's grandest venue, Clefton Hall.I wore a simple black dress I had bought years ago at a clearance sale and sat quietly in a corner. The fabric was old and worn, starkly shabby among the shimmering silks and lace gowns that sparkled
Joe had not come home for days.I learned everything about his life from Ivy's social media posts.There he was, spending the night with her in the library, helping her search through piles of reference books.At dawn, he draped his jacket over her shoulders.On the track field, he crouched down to tie her shoelaces after she finished her run.In another photo, Ivy was bent over a microscope, focused intently. Joe stood beside her, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.Every picture looked so tender, so perfect.I stared at them in silence before shutting off my phone.Then I opened my wardrobe. One by one, I pulled out my clothes, folded them carefully, and placed them neatly into a suitcase.Just as I was almost finished, the door opened.Joe was back.He looked tired but oddly satisfied."Belle, what are you doing, packing?" His tone was calm, like nothing had happened. "I want to show you something. Our new home."He did not bother explaining where he h
I stepped into the beauty salon near campus, resignation letter ready in my bag.The moment the manager, Lily, spotted me, she grabbed my hand with a warm smile."Belle, you can't quit! Where am I ever going to find another makeup artist as good as you? Just stay a little longer—please, just a little while more!"Her enthusiasm made it difficult to refuse."Actually," she went on quickly, "there's a big job today. It's a high-paying group booking from a Great Eastern University student, a house call service. Do this one for me, I'm begging you."In the end, I agreed.Carrying my kit, I walked into the most luxurious four-person dormitory on campus, the one everyone whispered about.The air was heavy with expensive perfume.My eyes landed immediately on the ornate photo frame displayed on a desk.In the picture, Joe stood with Ivy, smiling brightly, standing close together like the perfect couple.A handsome man, and a beautiful woman—they looked like they belonged on the cove