The Broken Vow: He Promised Me Forever, But Gave Her His Life

For twenty years, we were childhood sweethearts. Everyone knew Declan loved me. In college, this rebellious bad boy had three ribs broken in a street fight and didn't make a single sound. But for me, he dropped to his knees in front of his attackers. When his knees hit the pavement, he looked up and smiled at me: "Don't cry, Harper. My life is yours. What's a little kneeling?" But on the day of our engagement, I heard him say to another woman with my own ears: "Baby, my life is yours." And his "baby" wasn't me. 1 Everyone at our university knew Declan was a rebellious trust-fund kid. He was a cynical bad boy who played games with life, acting like nothing in the world mattered to him. The only exception was me. Whenever I was involved, he would lose his cool instantly. I am Harper. Everyone also knew that the campus beauty, Savannah, had silently loved Declan for seven years. She once ran through a torrential downpour to bring him cold medicine, getting so sick she missed three days of classes. She sneaked a hot plate into her dorm to cook soup for him, nearly getting expelled when she was caught. She hid a sketchbook that someone eventually found. Every single page was filled with sketches of Declan. Declan spacing out, Declan playing basketball, Declan getting water for his girlfriend... Many people felt bad for her, pitying her seven years of unrequited love. But Declan’s love for me was a universally acknowledged fact. He had taken a knife for me. He had gotten on his knees for me. He had abandoned his reckless ways and studied relentlessly just to get into the same Ivy League school as me. At the height of the rumors, people used to say Declan loved me more than his own life. Once upon a time, I sentimentalized it and believed them. The school’s untouchable rebel used to hold my hand, begging me to date him. "Harper, have a little mercy on me..." The guy who was ruthless to his enemies couldn't bear to raise his voice at me. "Harper, don't cry, it's my fault. Please don't cry..." He was arrogant and untamed, yet he swore a vicious oath right to my face: "Harper, if I ever betray you, I'll go straight to hell." Twenty years of knowing and protecting each other. I thought I knew every side of Declan. I thought I was as familiar with him as the lines on my own left palm. Until right now. I stood fifteen feet away, watching like an outsider as he violently defended another woman. His fury looked distant and foreign. He seemed to have lost all rationality. Gone was his usual cool demeanor; the veins on his knuckles popped, making him look like a wolf ready to tear someone apart. "You dare touch what's mine?" My breath hitched. My spine stiffened. The person he was claiming as his own wasn't me. A mean girl from a rival sorority was pinned against the wall, choking out a sob. "She did it to herself..." Before she could finish, a lighter flared. Declan narrowed his eyes. "Dec, he's new. He doesn't know about Harper's history," a guy named Chase said quickly. Realizing that Declan was having a PTSD trigger, the guy hurriedly tried to apologize, snatching the cigarette out of the girl's hand. But the look in Declan’s eyes was terrifyingly cold as he slowly approached the girl. "I didn't mean to... It was her... she burned herself..." The girl was stammering, terrified by the sheer murder in his eyes. Declan’s expression was deadly. He turned his head slightly to look at Savannah, his words sharp as knives. "Do it back." His tone was icy as he repeated, "However she bullied you, do it back." All the sound in the alley seemed to vanish. I stared blankly at Declan’s cruelty, instinctively wrapping my coat tighter around myself, yet I still felt freezing cold. It was true that Declan had taken a knife for me. It was also true that he had washed his hands of his violent past. He had promised me he would never put himself in danger again, that he would never get involved in this kind of mess again. But now, he was losing his mind for Savannah. His handsome eyes were bloodshot as he glared at the girl. "I'm backing you up. What are you afraid of?" he told Savannah. Savannah kept her eyes lowered, not daring to look at him. Her frail body trembled slightly, looking so fragile that a gust of wind could knock her over. The collar of her shirt was torn, exposing her pale collarbone—and a fresh, glaring burn mark from a cigarette. When my eyes landed on that mark, my chest stung violently, as if I had been burned myself. My hand instinctively touched my chest. Over my own left breast, there were three distinct cigarette scars. Declan stared intensely at that red burn mark, his voice trembling involuntarily. "Do it back. Did you not hear me?" "Declan..." Savannah whimpered softly. She gently tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Declan froze. A flash of profound heartache crossed his face. For some reason, suppressed memories flooded my mind in chaotic fragments. "Harper, does it hurt really bad?" "Harper, I failed to protect you." "Harper, please don't look like that. I'm so scared..." A 17-year-old Declan holding me tightly, crying helplessly, his voice trembling beyond recognition. After that day, Declan quit smoking. More accurately, he physically couldn't smoke anymore. The doctors said it was PTSD. To this day, he held a lit cigarette, slowly backing the mean girl into a corner. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He was terrified. "Declan!" the girl suddenly shrieked. "Don't you have a girlfriend? Everyone says you love her! What the hell are you doing standing up for this manipulative bitch?!" "Your girlfriend..." Declan's eyes snapped up, glaring at her with a murderous intensity. The girl immediately shut her mouth, swallowing her next words. She was shaking in fear, her eyes darting around frantically. And then, she saw me. Like a drowning woman spotting a lifeline, her eyes lit up with desperate joy. She screamed at the top of her lungs, "Call the cops! Call the cops for me!" "Please, call the police..." Everyone turned their heads. The moment our eyes met, Declan froze. He instinctively dropped the cigarette and hurried toward me in a panic. "Harper..." He looked down at me, his aggressive, sharp features instantly softening. The intimidating aura vanished completely. Just the sound of him saying my name made my throat tight. Seeing my red eyes, Declan hesitated, then hurriedly pulled me into his arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. I stood you up, didn't I?" "I was going to come find you, but my phone rang." "I don't know what happened to me, Harper." "When I heard someone say, 'I'll burn you alive with this cigarette,' I completely lost it." "I was so scared. I thought what happened back then was repeating itself." "I don't know what came over me, all the blood just rushed to my head and I couldn't think straight. I was just so terrified..." So that was it. That was why Declan lost control. Five years had passed. That bullying incident was my nightmare, but it was an inescapable nightmare for Declan too. Yet my heart still throbbed with a dull ache, like it had been smashed with a sledgehammer. I looked up at him, my eyes burning. "Didn't you promise me?" Declan froze. His eyes instantly reddened, and he lowered his head like a dog that knew it had done wrong. My voice trembled as I repeated, "Did you forget what you promised me?" After a long silence, he finally looked at me with bloodshot eyes. "I don't think I can ever get over it, Harper." "I failed to protect you back then." "If I had to do it over again, I would never let that happen to you..." The teenage boy unknowingly gripped my hand so tight my knuckles ached. After that incident, Declan couldn't sleep well for a long time, constantly waking up in the middle of the night. His mom told me he would toss and turn, wanting to call me in a panic, but afraid of waking me up. He took me to see a therapist, but in the end, he was the one who needed the therapy. Later, he took a burning cigarette and pressed it into his own chest three times, creating the exact same scars. "Harper, whatever pain you went through, I have to feel it too." "Harper, even if you don't blame me, I can't stop blaming myself." I thought of his tearful eyes, his trembling hands, and the sleepless nights he spent tortured by guilt. No matter what, I couldn't bring myself to blame him. "It's in the past, Declan. It's all in the past..." I gently hugged him back. "Harper... it will never happen again." Declan buried his face in my neck, a scalding tear dropping onto my collarbone. I should have believed him. Declan had never broken a promise to me before. But the unease in my heart lingered. This was his first time breaking a rule. His first time abandoning me. His first time breaking our promise. And it was all for Savannah. 2 In high school, everyone knew Declan and I were a package deal. But Savannah still fell hopelessly, incurably in love with him. Her love was silent, passionate, like a moth to a flame. She didn't care if she burned to ash. Once, when Declan and I were eating in the cafeteria, someone intentionally bumped into Savannah, spilling soup and sauce all over her, and then blamed her for it. Declan casually stepped in and bailed her out. She looked up at him with panicked eyes, her gaze lingering for just a second before she ran away in a fluster. That was probably the beginning of her crush. But I was completely oblivious. Because back then, Savannah was painfully ordinary. It was hard to mistake Declan helping her for anything romantic. She had just transferred from a small rural town. She was chubby, her complexion was dull, she spoke with a thick accent, and worst of all, she always walked with her head down, like she was hiding from the world. But I don't know when it started—she lost weight, her skin cleared up, her accent vanished, and she stopped slouching. Her style became trendy and chic. Years later, I finally realized that it was the brave, stubborn nature of a girl charging forward for love. After she lost the weight, she wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, but she had this pure, innocent vibe that easily triggered a man's protective instincts. She had a lot of guys chasing her, and she gradually gained the halo of "campus beauty." But Savannah rejected them all, shyly keeping her head down and saying she already liked someone. The guys only tried harder, assuming it was just an excuse. Until someone found a sketchbook in her desk. Every single page was of the same person. A boy with short hair, sharp eyes, and a small mole on the right side of his nose. It turned out Savannah really did have someone she liked. And that person was my boyfriend. Some guys, purely wanting to start drama, stole the sketchbook and threw it onto Declan's desk. Declan was ruthless. He personally handed it back to her. "Nice drawings. Think you can draw one of my girlfriend for me?" A teenage girl's heart shattered on the floor. That night, Savannah cried until her eyes were swollen. But she didn't seem to give up. She brought Declan medicine in the rain, and secretly cooked soup for him behind the RA's back. After graduation, Declan and I both got into Stanford, and Savannah followed us to the same city, enrolling in a nearby, less-prestigious state college. I never really paid attention to Savannah because of how Declan treated her. When she brought him medicine, he ignored her, nuzzled my neck, and whined for me to go buy him medicine instead. I rolled my eyes. "Don't you already have some right there?" He casually tossed the bag of medicine she brought him into the trash. "I only take what you buy me. I'm not eating anything from anyone else." When Savannah brought him soup, he dumped it out, grabbed the takeout soup I brought him, and ate it like it was a five-star meal, raving about how good it was. I laughed at him for being fake, but he held my hand with total sincerity. "Harper, whatever you give me is the absolute best." Declan and I dated for seven years, and Savannah stayed single the entire time. Many rich kids at her college pursued her, but she didn't look twice at any of them. Gradually, people started digging into her past, and rumors flew. They said the reason the campus beauty rejected countless guys was because her heart was already taken. And the guy she loved had a girlfriend. They were childhood sweethearts, went through everything together, and even went to Stanford together. Some called Savannah shameless for lusting after another woman's boyfriend; others praised her as a hopeless romantic, keeping herself pure for him for seven years. Someone even said, "I heard that guy is getting married soon. The campus beauty has never even dated. It's our time to shine, boys!" It was true. Declan and I were about to get married. We had agreed ages ago that we would get our marriage license right after graduation. And right at this critical moment, this incident happened. Was it really just a coincidence? 3 As a group of us walked out of the alley, Savannah followed closely beside Declan, clutching her chest. It seemed like she finally mustered all her courage to lightly tug at his shirt. Declan looked at her, his face darkening slightly with confusion. Savannah looked embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and stammered, "Dec... can I... can I borrow your jacket for a minute?" Declan paused. His eyes flicked to me for a second, then scanned the guys behind him. He yelled casually, "Chase, lend her your jacket." As soon as the words left his mouth, the guys started jeering. "Chase, you really have no situational awareness." "Such a perfect opportunity, and you need Declan to play matchmaker for you?" Savannah's face went chalk-white, all the color draining from her tightly pressed lips. Everyone there knew that in high school, Chase had relentlessly pursued Savannah. Declan's actions clearly drew a firm boundary between him and Savannah. Savannah bit her lip, took Chase's jacket, and intentionally walked further away. Declan told Chase to take Savannah to a nearby pharmacy to treat her burn, and then led the rest of us into a diner. Everyone hadn't seen each other in a while, so the conversation was lively and loud. Savannah and Chase came back quickly. The tab was on Declan, and nobody held back. Except for Savannah, who sat quietly in the corner, nibbling on a dry burger. She was too embarrassed to order anything else and almost choked a couple of times. Everyone was busy teasing Declan and me; no one paid any attention to her. Until someone suddenly yelled, "Dec, I'm a grown man, why do I need to drink a hot latte?!" The guy next to him immediately smacked his arm. "You're an idiot. Dec is just looking out for Harper." The guy went, "Ohhh," in realization. "So we're just collateral damage for his romance." The group cheered and teased us, but as the actual girlfriend, I couldn't bring myself to smile. I was Declan's girlfriend. If he wanted to buy me a latte, he didn't need to jump through so many hoops. Declan's face looked a little stiff, and he avoided my gaze. But Savannah, holding that hot latte, had sparkling eyes. She looked up and smiled at me. My heart instantly went cold. It was glaringly obvious who those dozen hot lattes were actually for. I remembered how every winter, Declan would wait for me and press a piping hot latte against my cheek. In the sweltering heat of summer, the teenage boy would run back panting, handing me a room-temperature water bottle. "Harper, I ran to five different stores and couldn't find a cold one. Just make do with this..." Whenever I had bad cramps, he would watch me in pain and instinctively force me to avoid cold drinks. Declan was truly wonderful. So wonderful that I couldn't bear to let him go. But that wonderfulness no longer belonged exclusively to me. He had duplicated it for someone else. While my thoughts were still a mess, I saw Savannah lean close to Declan, whispering something in his ear. Declan's expression shifted, and he instinctively started taking off his jacket. Halfway through, he seemed to remember something, leaned into my ear, and whispered that Savannah had gotten her pants dirty, so he was lending her his jacket. As Declan pulled his jacket off with his head down, I wanted to remind him that doing this was highly inappropriate. But for some reason, my mind drifted back to that summer. I used the very first paycheck I ever earned—$500—to buy my boy this jacket. He started off acting proud, saying I wasted my money, but he couldn't suppress his smile. He happily spun me around in the air, then rested his head on my shoulder, his soft hair brushing against my neck as he murmured, "Harper, why are you so good to me..." When the teenage boy looked up, I realized his eyes were completely red. I remember thinking back then that my puppy was a little silly. He was so easy to please... So many years had passed, but the jacket still looked brand new. He had always cherished it. If anyone even brushed against it, he'd get upset. But today, he lent it to Savannah. With such an intimate, ambiguous excuse. And his reaction was so natural. Without a single moment of hesitation. A terrible premonition washed over me. I realized that, while I wasn't looking, someone had successfully lured my puppy away... 4 On the car ride back, I leaned exhaustedly against the window, quietly watching Declan. I thought about when we were five. He would tirelessly drag his favorite toys over to me—ferocious dinosaur action figures, terrifying monster trucks, and intimidating toy guns—slamming them down in front of me and instantly making me cry in fear. At family gatherings, the adults always used to tease him about it, saying Dec always wanted to be good to Harper, but he was just too dense and stubborn to know how. When we were ten, a boy passed me a note. Declan furiously charged at him and started a fistfight. When our parents were called in, he stubbornly maintained, "I just didn't like his face." On the walk home, the boy with a half-swollen face gently tugged at my shirt, pleading pitifully, "Harper, don't play with him..." I remembered the scorching heat of a midsummer day. The electric fan was whirring loudly. He picked up my dropped hair tie from the floor and suddenly blurted out, "Harper, do you want to be my girlfriend?" I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I stared at him with wide eyes. He leaned in slightly, looking straight into my eyes, and promised, word by word, "Harper, as long as you say yes, I'll never betray you in this lifetime." Seeing my eyes water, Declan panicked and grabbed my hand. "I just thought Savannah looked too pitiful, being bullied like that, and she was too embarrassed to order food." "When I lent her the jacket, I panicked. I didn't think it through..." "Harper, I'll never contact her again." "Harper, you have to believe me. I only love you." "Please don't cry, Harper, please don't cry. It kills me to see you like this." Right in front of me, Declan dragged Savannah's number into his blocked contacts. He hadn't even saved her name in his phone. He swore up and down, "I have absolutely nothing going on with Savannah." I was pulled into his arms, listening to his gentle, soothing voice. I didn't struggle, and I didn't speak. But the premonition in my heart was deafening. So, when Declan went to take a shower, I quietly opened his iMessage. Even though I was mentally prepared, the moment I saw the chat history, my brain buzzed, and the tightly wound string in my head snapped violently. A massive wave of shock and fury engulfed me, making my entire body shake uncontrollably. In their recent messages, Savannah had sent Declan a photo. It was a mirror selfie in a hotel room. She was wearing a tight, black slip dress. Paired with sheer black tights. Declan: "Why are you suddenly dressed like this." Savannah: "Don't worry, I won't bother you anymore after this. Dec, I just want to make you happy." "I want..." "I want to give you a proper goodbye." I stared blankly at the messages, remembering that that was the day Declan and I went wedding dress shopping. He had seemed distracted. I noticed something was off and asked what was wrong. He avoided my eyes and said there was an urgent issue with his internship that needed his immediate attention. Understanding how hard his job was, I let him leave early. It turned out he was in a rush to go see Savannah. He was so desperate he couldn't even focus enough to finish looking at wedding dresses with me. The boy who once gave up a prestigious academic competition for me was now using such a clumsy excuse to blow me off. And I had actually believed him. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears from falling. But the phone slipped from my weak grip and hit the floor. I picked it up with trembling hands and stubbornly kept scrolling up. "You're a good person." "But I have to get married." "We're done." "Don't get involved with a piece of trash like me ever again." It was hilarious. My boyfriend was secretly breaking up with another woman behind my back. "But I'll be good. Dec, you know me. I don't want anything from you." "Just as long as I can be by your side, even just as a backup, even if you only think of me when you're bored, I'll be happy." Declan: "But Harper and I are getting married. I don't want to let her down." Declan wired Savannah a sum of money. Thirty thousand dollars. In disbelief, my fingers swiped up furiously. I needed to see exactly when Declan had started betraying me. It turned out, as early as the night of our high school graduation party, they were already messing around. That night, Declan got too drunk, and the two of them slept together in a hotel. Afterward, Declan guiltily messaged: "I'm sorry. I drank too much last night. I didn't know it was your first time..." "It's okay, Declan. I was willing." To compensate Savannah, Declan bought her a designer bag. The funny part was, he bought me the exact same bag. I thought it was a romantic surprise. Looking back, that was probably just a form of compensation, too. Declan, oh Declan. If you knew you were doing me wrong, why did you keep lying to me over and over again? That night, I couldn't reach him and tossed and turned all night. The next day, he explained that he got too drunk and just grabbed a hotel room nearby with some classmates. He didn't lie. He told the truth. Except the "classmate" was Savannah. When he came to see me, he even brought me a Stitch plushie, saying he won it from a claw machine on his way to dinner. I love Stitch plushies. Whenever Declan saw a machine, he would pump quarters into it until he won, then present it to me like a trophy. My entire display cabinet at home was filled with them. That day, he obediently drank his hangover cure, suddenly stood up, hugged me tight like a little kid, buried his face in my shoulder, and murmured, "Harper, I only love you." I thought it was a bit weird, but I still said, "I love you too." Thinking about it now makes me want to vomit... So, that was Savannah's first time, and it was Declan's first time too. After that, maybe he was addicted, or maybe he just couldn't resist the temptation. The two of them slept together many, many times. Savannah: "Are you going to be home alone tonight?" Declan: "I'm taking Harper to the dentist this afternoon. I'll text you when we're done." Declan: "Harper is going out of state for a competition in a few days. I'll come see you." Declan: "Wait for me here at 3 PM on Sunday." Savannah: "Okay." ... I felt like all the energy had been drained from my body. I slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor. Honestly, there had been signs of Declan's cheating, but I had just trusted him too much. I was so full of hate. I hated him, and I hated myself. That time Savannah brought him soup—I ran into her right outside his hospital room... But Declan didn't show a single hint of guilt. He even dumped the soup down the drain right in front of me. Later, Savannah whined to him, saying she slow-cooked it for hours and got written up by the RA for it, completely humiliating herself... Declan said, "Harper was there." "I dumped the soup." "Don't do this kind of thing again." Savannah asked, "Declan, is she really that great?" Declan: "She and I have been together for a long time." "Don't think about things you shouldn't be thinking about." Savannah asked again, "She doesn't suspect you, does she?" Declan: "She's always trusted me implicitly." Every single word Declan typed was like a knife plunging into my chest. Piercing my heart until it was shredded and bloody. So, he knew. He knew how hard-fought our years of love had been. But why? He took advantage of my trust, lying to me, betraying me time and time again, playing me for an absolute fool. Were all of Declan's displays of love, all that sincerity, all that burning passion, just an act? Thinking about the past, how could I ever believe him again? It was all fake... It hurt. It really hurt. How could he say he loved me while messing around with another woman? Declan, a love like that is far too cheap. I don't need it. I don't need it anymore...

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