Masuk
CHAPTER ONE
"I love you." There, I said it. Well, not really me—it's the vodka talking. I seriously shouldn't have had that much alcohol. Normally, I don't drink this much, but hey, it's my graduation day, after all. I deserve a little fun. I didn’t realize that fun would come with consequences. "You do?" His voice comes out in a raspy whisper. I nod, looking directly into his eyes so he can see the truth there. "And not in a platonic way," I add quickly. Nate has been my best friend since my diaper days, and I've been in love with him since I knew what falling in love was. I've tried killing my feelings for him but failed every time. Instead, my feelings only grew stronger. You know the kind of best friend you grew up with, living in the same neighbourhood, having lunch, sleepovers, basically sharing everything? That’s who Nate has always been. Ever since we were born, we’ve been inseparable. Even when we started college, we stuck to our plan—right from high school—and moved in together. To make matters worse, I started to notice him more. The way he looked without a t-shirt, how his tanned skin glistened. I couldn’t stop imagining my hands on his bare chest. I even had to make him wear shirts in the house. Luckily, we had separate rooms, but still... One of the reasons I kept clinging to my feelings for him was because our parents saw the possibility of grandkids someday. My parents never got to see my "friendship" with Nate. I was four when they died in a car accident. After that, I moved to stay my Uncle James, who luckily lived in the neighbourhood, so I didn’t have to stay away from Nate when I moved in with him. Eva, my cousin, knew about my feelings for Nate. She’s been nagging me to either tell him how I feel or just make a move already. But the same old fear of ruining our friendship kept stopping me. I probably should’ve said something to avoid this mess. I was frantically thinking of what to say when Nate spoke up. "I love you, Ana, and not in a platonic way!" I barely heard the music over the pounding in my ears. Before I could even process it, I smashed my lips against his, catching him off guard. He stood still for a few seconds before responding, slowly easing into the kiss. It started sweet and gentle but soon turned rough and passionate, as if we were both starved for this moment. All I could think was, I did it. I finally did it. At that moment, I was the happiest person alive. He finally pulls away, both of us out of breath, just staring at each other for what feels like an eternity. The world didn’t matter at that moment—just us. "Let's take the celebration home," he whispers in a husky voice. I hadn’t seen this side of Nate before, and I loved it. I was about to learn more about it, for sure. "Fuck, yeah!" I say, happily nodding. He lets me go, and for a second, I miss his warmth, but I remind myself that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him in his arms. Nate and I walk to the parking lot, laughing together. We’re both drunk, and it feels perfect because, otherwise, I’d be freaking out right now. He steadies himself and is about to start the car when I pull out my phone. I want to text my cousin—she’s like a sister to me. I’m already too dizzy to type properly. I manage to type a single word when I hear a loud honk, followed by a thud. My eyes snap open to find myself staring at the ceiling. The last thing I remember is... blood. I lie there, frozen for a few moments, my mind blank. I wait for what feels like ten minutes before sitting up. I’m still out of breath. "Another day, another nightmare," I mutter to myself. I get up, go to the bathroom, do my morning routine, and then dress. It’s been five years since my graduation day. Three years since I lost my best friend. Three years since I lost the love of my life. I’ve been haunted by nightmares ever since that day, and I don’t want my memories of Nate to be tainted by them. Today is Eva’s wedding. She’s starting a new chapter of her life, and I’m happy for her. But even though I’m happy for her, I just don’t see myself ever getting married. This is something I dreamed of doing with Nate, but not anymore. When I lost Nate that day, I was shattered. I couldn’t focus on anything. Not that I’m fixed now, but I’ve learned to carry my burdens and broken pieces on my own. I’ve barely done anything for myself; I had to tell myself that I had to fulfil the dreams Nate and I had shared. That’s when I started working and opened a pet rescue store. He’d wanted a cat when we moved into a bigger apartment. That didn’t happen, but I found a stray and brought her home. I glance at the time—4:00 in the morning. I get up, remove the covers, and head to the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of cold water and chug it down. I rearrange the cushions on the couch and lie back, staring at the ceiling, letting the tears fall. I let my mind wander... What if that night, on graduation day, hadn't happened? Would he still be alive? Would Nate still be by my side? Unable to hold back the tears, I sob and clutch my chest. It hurts so much to think about it, and I can’t help but feel responsible. If I hadn’t told him I loved him, if I hadn’t agreed to leave with him in that drunken state, maybe he’d still be here. Maybe he’d still be alive with me. My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. I follow the sound of my phone to the room, and the screen shows Aunt (Eva’s mom) calling. "Hello, Auntie?" I answer groggily. "Anastasia, where are you?" She sounds angry. I pull the phone away from my ear and check the time—oh my God! It’s already 8:00. "Don’t tell me you’re not dressed and on your way here," she says in a low, threatening voice. I’m quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. "You better get yourself down here in 30 minutes. Do I make myself clear?" she yells. "Yes, Auntie," I mumble, and the call ends. I quickly hop in the shower and get dressed. My neighbour helps me look after my cat, Patty, so I drop her off with him before heading to the venue. I arrive just in time for my hair and makeup. An hour later, I’m finished, and the makeup artist did an amazing job giving me a natural look. I glance at myself in the mirror after putting on my wedding attire. "Perfect," I mutter before heading off to find the bride. I can’t find Eva when I arrive. I searched the venue but had no luck. "Where’s the bride’s room?" I ask a butler passing by. "The third room on your right," he replies. I thank him and head that way. I open the door to the bride’s room but find it empty. I go in search of Auntie to ask if she knows where Eva is. "Auntie, where’s Eva?" I ask, spotting her by the lobby. "Check the fitting room. She must be there. And tell her to hurry up— the groom’s waiting." I rush to the fitting room and find Eva staring at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t hear me enter, and I notice she looks sad, lost in thought. It could just be wedding nerves. I step up behind her and hug her from behind, bringing her back to reality. "Are you thinking about how your wedding night is going to be?" I tease. She smiles and turns to face me, blushing. "Of course not." We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, before I speak again. "You look beautiful, Eva." "Thank you," she replies softly. "But I need something to eat before I go—something light," she adds with a sheepish smile. I roll my eyes. "You and food... Let me get you something quick, and then we’ll go. No more excuses," I say, rushing off to find her a snack. I finally find some chips and return, but when I get back, Eva’s gone. "Eva!" I call out, scanning the area. I check the bathroom, then her bedroom, but she’s not there. I scanned the room one last time and spotted the bride’s wedding gown on the floor, a note beside it. I pick up the note and freeze when I read the contents.TylerAnastasia stands in front of me in blue skinny jeans and a white top, with a surprised expression on her face. Her hair is tied at the top of her head into a ponytail, and the lower curled part is now resting on one of her shoulders. Her lips part slightly, immediately bringing my attention to them.Since that night, I haven't stopped thinking about her plump lips and the way they moved in synchronization with mine. Her body fitted in my hand exactly like the right piece of the puzzle sticks at the right place.I pull my hands out of my pocket and step closer to her. As though she is fixed to her position, looking directly into my eyes. When Madelyn, my assistant, told me that a woman named 'Anastasia ' came to meet me, I knew right then and there who it was. I am not saying that no one other than her with the same name could come to meet me, but I was having a feeling that it was her. Now here she is, my beloved wife.She clears her throat softly and looks down. Her fingers in
ANASTASIA'S POV"You got drunk?!" Nessa shrieks, drawing attention towards our table. She looks at me wide-eyed, grinding her jaw. I told her everything all over again along with the way I felt and what happened on Saturday night, which I remember nothing of."I know. But the worst part is, I don't remember anything after that." I say in a hushed voice. Her mouth falls open."Woah. How much did you drink?""I don't know. I just kept drinking and drinking, and after that, everything was blurry." I must have been seriously drunk. Otherwise, I don't usually have this effect."Shit! Did you talk to Tyler after that?""Nooo! He has been ignoring me since Saturday morning. I just remember seeing him on Sunday morning when I was throwing up in my room. He helped me, gave me some pills, and left. I haven't seen him since. Even last night, he had dinner in his room. I don't know what's going on..." I say and look down at the cup in my hands. I bring one finger and run it along the rim. I didn'
ANASTASIA’S POV Groaning, I sit up on the bed. My head is pounding like ten heavy rocks have been stacked on top of it.My eyes stay squeezed shut because the sunlight burns. I bring both palms to my face and tilt my head down toward my lap. Suddenly, a sharp wave of nausea twists my stomach, bile rushing up my throat. I throw the covers off my legs and hurry to the bathroom. Lifting the toilet seat, I kneel and empty my stomach into the bowl. I'm still puking when I hear someone enter the bathroom.Two hands sweep my hair away from my face, holding it back gently as Tyler murmurs, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” One of his hands rubs slow circles on my back while the other keeps my hair out of the way. I don’t want him to see me like this—weak and miserable.When I’m finally done, I slump back against the bathtub. I open my eyes to see Tyler at the sink, wetting a towel. He kneels in front of me and wipes my face and mouth.“I can do it,” I croak, taking the towel from his hand. After clean
TYLER’S POV I haven't been home since the morning. I needed some time away. Knowing that I have to come home and have dinner with the person who hates me with every bone of her body, I preferred eating outside. Although I am not going to eat out every day, I will figure out a way to ignore her. It's best for both of us. No one interferes in each other's life. It's not like I never controlled myself in times of need, without anyone. I can do that this time too. I don't need anyone.It's already past eleven. I know it's late. Mrs. Smith must be gone already. Normally, on days when I come home late, Mrs. Smith remains gone.As I enter the house, I find the living room dimly lit. It's usually dark. Frowning, I walk in looking around. Are there any chances that Anastasia is still up, waiting for me? Why would she? Shaking off the thought, I walk towards the centre of the room. Mrs. Smith must have left the lights on for me. On reaching the couch, I drop my co
ANASTASIA’S POV He stomps past me and slams his bedroom door shut before I can say anything. I guess I really have nothing left to say. I stare at the closed wooden door, letting the events of the morning replay in my mind.Yes, I broke down in front of Tyler, and yes, I didn’t want it to happen. But can I blame him? He was genuinely trying to comfort me—the way I had tried to comfort him. He never forced me to say a word. I did it of my own free will. He opened his heart to me, shared his pain, and let me hold him. And I can’t deny that I wanted him to. Now that he’s doing the same, why can’t I let him?Just as I’m about to step toward Tyler’s room, Nate’s face flashes through my mind along with all the promises I made—one being that I would never let myself get attached to anyone. And yet here I am, more than attached to Tyler. Besides, if I go in now, I have to remember that Tyler wants to help me. I’m the reason Nate isn’t alive. I don’t deserve anyone’s comfort.I spin around on
TYLER’S POV "What do you mean?" she frowns, confusion clouding her features. Way to act, Anastasia. Her eyes are red and swollen, tear stains still clear on her rosy cheeks. The tip of her nose, her ears—everything is red. She’s been crying. And the fact that it might be because of me makes it even worse. "Why aren't you at work?" I ask, my tone clipped and serious. There I was, thinking we were finally getting along, trying to be understanding. Then she goes and does this?! What is she running from? Why can’t she just accept things and move on? She blinks at me, registering my words before saying, "And I’m supposed to answer you?" She crosses her arms, scowling. Oh, she wants to do this now? Fine. "Yes," I answer, mimicking her posture. My glare holds hers—steady, intense. Beneath the anger, disappointment burns deeper. Knowing she still doesn’t trust me, not even a little, stings more than I’d ever admit. It hurts. Badly. "Why so?" she challenges. "Because I’m your husband.







