Chapter 3

Shane, together with Vera and Arielle, finally arrived at the roadside where he had left me that morning.

The street was dim under the yellow glow of the streetlights. The air was thick with moisture.

I was long gone. Only the empty street and the sigh of the sea wind remained.

A frown creased his brow as a flicker of unnameable dread stirred in his chest.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

A text flashed across the screen:

[Don’t bother coming. I’m already home.]

He instinctively sighed in relief.

But the uneasiness only grew.

I was packing my things in the villa.

The familiar scent of the room made it hard to breathe.

He called me. I watched his name light up on the screen, but I did not answer.

I did not know whether to cry or to laugh.

Maybe I never should have let myself hope for anything in the first place.

I remember the first time I saw Vera.

I was ten years old. I was finally home with my birth parents, Jack and Marie Grayson, after being in foster care for years.

It felt like no less than a dream with a place of warmth, laughter, and family…

When I opened the door, they were holding another girl in their arms.

She had silky hair and was wearing a white dress.

“This is Vera,” my mother said with a gentle smile. “She’s been with us all these years while you were gone.”

My father added, “Indy, Vera’s younger than you. You need to be understanding and take care of your little sister.”

The word “understanding” pricked at something deep inside me, but I still smiled and nodded. “I will!”

Vera smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes.

I learned later that in the years I had gone missing, she had lived in my room, slept in my bed, and called my parents “Mom and Dad” like they were her own.

They, in turn, had made her part of the family.

They said she was “an innocent child,” while I was the one who had to learn to be “understanding.”

Once, she accidentally knocked a glass off the dining table.

I stood up to help, but before I could do anything, she covered her face and started to cry. “I’m sorry, Indy. Please don’t be mad at me!”

My parents rushed over and pulled her protectively into their arms.

My mother frowned at me. “Indy, couldn’t you be gentler? She’s younger than you, and you’re scaring her!”

That was the first time I understood something. In this house, I would automatically be at fault if she so much as cried.

Later, they sent Vera abroad to study.

My parents said, “It’ll be good for her to see the world, and it’ll keep you two from clashing again.”

After that, the way they looked at me changed.

Their gaze held a mixture of wariness, disappointment, and distance.

From then on, I learned to be silent.

It was at that age, when everyone seemed to avoid me, that Shane appeared.

I remember that day after school, I was sitting on a bench outside the gate and was lost in thought. The rain was pouring down.

He came up and handed me a cup of hot chocolate. He said, “You don’t have to smile. I know you didn’t have a good day.”

I looked at him. It was the first time I had felt seen by someone.

After that, he was there every time I was yelled at.

Once, in tears, I told him, “No one believes me!”

He sat down beside me and said softly, “I believe you. Isn’t that enough?”

From that day on, my world had warmth in it.

He was the first person who made me believe that gentleness could be real.

He was the only redemption in my long, lonely adolescence.

I snapped back to the present. My cheeks were wet with tears.

The light that had once illuminated my entire world was shining on someone else these days.

The chime of the doorbell pulled me out of the spell of the past.

I went to answer it.

Shane rushed in and pulled me into his arms.

He smelled of the night air and the salty sea.

“Indy, I’m so sorry,” he said. His voice was low and desperate. “I didn’t mean to do that. I just lost track of time.”

Before I could respond, a soft, trembling voice sounded from the stairs.

“Indy, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault.”

Vera was standing there with Arielle in her arms.

Her eyes were a little red. Her voice was shaking just enough to sound weak and delicate.

“If you need someone to blame, blame me. Don’t blame Shane. I was the one who wanted to see the fireworks by the beach.”

She moved closer as she said that. Her gaze was so gentle that it was almost disarming.

Shane reached out and gently caught her by the wrist.

“This isn’t your fault, Vera. Don’t blame yourself, okay? It was my mistake.”

At that moment, I watched the scene before me. As he comforted another woman with such tenderness, a realization dawned over me. He had never meant to hurt me.

He was just too used to caring for someone who looked more fragile.

He thought it was his responsibility, but he never stopped to think that his “consideration” for someone else was breaking me apart little by little.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

As I stared at them, the scene felt almost cruel in its irony.

He called me his fiancee, yet right in front of me, his hand was protectively wrapped around another woman’s wrist.

The corner of my mouth twitched. My throat felt tight.

“Shane, you really do know how to comfort people,” I said softly.

He froze. His eyes flickered in confusion.

I went on, “It’s just that you never considered the person who might need your comfort the most.”

He stood there, utterly still, as if something had finally clicked.

I looked up and stared at the ceiling.

The brightness stung my eyes.

“You’re wondering if I’m still mad?” I shook my head with a bitter smile. “I’m not. None of it matters anymore.”

He reached out and tried to take my hand. “Indy, I just…”

I stepped back.

“You don’t need to explain. I get it.”

My voice was so calm that it felt unfamiliar, even to me.

I turned and walked into the bedroom.

I felt a hollowness within me.

The silence that followed was not of something breaking but the quiet stillness of something that had already ended.

It was an emptiness that rang louder than any apology ever could.