CHAPTER 3.

Natasha’s POV.

My mind screamed that I must be dreaming, that this wasn’t real, that there was no way he would do this, not after everything we had shared and planned.

He had promised me that there was nothing between them. That she was just noise, a distraction I should ignore. A spoiled rich girl who wanted everything handed to her.

But now she had him too. He was still smiling up at her as she nodded, holding out her hand. The crowd erupted in cheers. And I just stood there, invisible in the middle of it all. My hands were clenched at my sides, and I wasn’t even sure when I had started trembling.

I turned away before he could see me. Before either of them could. I couldn’t breathe.

I stumbled back to my car, the sound of celebration still ringing in my ears. It felt like the ground had opened up beneath me.

Carol had vanished. My parents wanted me to marry a stranger. And the man I had trusted with my heart had just put a ring on someone else’s finger. And for the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to do.

I didn’t know how I got out of the crowd. I don’t remember walking, but somehow I was in the parking lot, my hands gripping the steering wheel of my car so tight they hurt.

Josh was proposing to her. I should’ve turned around and driven off, I should’ve left it at that because I was no match for her at all. But something in me, maybe the part that still loved him needed answers.

I called him twice but got no answer. On the third try, he picked up. “I need to see you,” I said. “Now.”

He didn’t ask why. He just said, “Fine. Ten minutes.”

We met outside the campus coffee shop. It was almost empty, just a few people sitting by the windows. I stood near the back entrance, where it was quiet, my hands shaking as he walked up, still in his suit.

He looked annoyed like I was inconveniencing him.

“What’s going on, Josh?” I asked, my voice already breaking. “How did it come to this? You never said you were tired of us. You never gave me a sign. So Why now? Why her?”

He crossed his arms, looking at me like I was the one who had done something wrong.

“You should be thanking me, Natasha,” he said. “I did what I had to do.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Thanking you?”

"No hospital would touch you," he continued.

"Do you think it’s a coincidence you suddenly got an offer of intenship this morning? You think that happened because of your charm or something?"

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. How did he know I got a job offer when I hadn't told him yet?

“I talked to people. Pulled strings. Made promises. And this—” he gestured vaguely, “—this was part of the deal. Did you think any hospital, especially a reputable one that belonged to Amara’s family, would accept you with your low grades?"

"No, Josh. You know my results didn’t turn out badly. You know how hard I worked. You know there was a mix-up, and I’ve been running around trying to fix it. The school sold my results, we both knew it.”

“And what do you think you can do about it? You think running around will change anything when you don’t have money or connections?"

“So what are you saying? You are marrying Amara to get me a job?” My voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I would give it up, Josh,” I said. “The job. Everything. If it meant keeping you.”

He shook his head like I was being ridiculous.

“What makes you think that was the reason, Natasha. It’s not just about you," he said.

"It never was. Her family’s powerful. Her family owns a chain of private hospitals. I want security. I want a future with someone who actually matters. I want my kids to be born into something better. Helping you get that job… that was just my way of making up for everything.”

My mouth went dry. “So what were we, Josh? All those years? All the nights I cried on your shoulder, all the sacrifices—what were we?”

He shrugged. “There was never a future, Natasha. I stayed because I pitied you. That’s it.”

The words landed like a punch. Pity. That’s what I had been to him, not love, not partnership. Just a burden he didn’t dare to drop until someone shinier came along.

I could barely breathe. I should’ve walked away. But I didn’t.

“Don’t do this,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please. You can still walk away from her. We can figure this out—”

And then I heard her voice. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Amara said, stepping into view like she had been waiting nearby. “This is pathetic.”

She was still in that dress. Still glowing, like none of this affected her in the slightest.

“He made his choice,” she said firmly. “You had your chance, and you wasted it.”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped, but she only laughed.

“He doesn't want you, Natasha, can't you be happy he isn't discarding you empty-handed as he is supposed to and at least begged for a job on your behalf.”

“You’re just a charity project he finally dropped. Accept it.”

She eyed me unapologetically and boldly took his hand. “Let’s go, baby,” she said.

And he followed her. Just like that. They walked away together, and no part of him turned back.

I stood there long after they disappeared. The breeze picked up, tugging at my hair. People passed by, chatting and laughing, but I couldn’t hear any of it. My world had gone quiet.

I couldn’t go home. Not yet. My chest felt hollow like I had been emptied, replaying everything he had said. There was never a future. It was pity that kept him around. He never really saw anything with me. How had I missed it? How had I been so blind?

And still, some desperate part of me wanted to chase after him. To tell him I could be enough if he just gave me time. To promise I will work harder and better.

I even reached for my phone to call him again, my thumb hovering over his name.

Then the phone rang. It was my mother. I almost didn’t answer. I didn’t think I had the strength for whatever was coming next.

But I picked up. Her voice was frantic and tearful.

“Your father… he collapsed. We’re at the hospital. And they took me, Natasha. They took me to the police station. They said something about fraud, about the wedding deal. Please… come.”

For a second, I didn’t move. It felt like my entire world was collapsing. One second, I was clinging to the pieces of a broken relationship. The next, everything else was crumbling too.