For seven years, I had dreamed of that day. The day when Lewis and I were together forever.
But that night, it became painfully clear. I was nothing more than a stand-in, a convenient placeholder for the woman he truly loved.
The ride back to our penthouse was silent, but my mind was anything but.
As the city lights blurred past the window, I made my decision. If Lewis could not be bothered to keep his promises, then he did not deserve me.
So, I asked Tobias as we arrived, “Hey, do you have the photo of the man that was arranged for me by our parents?”
“Hm, why do you suddenly ask about that?” Tobias looked confused by my abrupt question.
I hesitated, realizing how strange it was to ask. Instead of explaining, I brushed it off. “Never mind,” I said quickly before retreating to my bedroom and locking the door.
As the morning came, I ignored Tobias’ persistent knocks, cocooned under a blanket that was still damp from the tears I had cried all night.
The remnants of my breakdown surrounded me. Photos and mementos of Lewis and me lay torn and scattered across the floor.
Not long after, I heard Tobias speaking to someone.