Five years. Five years of secret dating Rhys Kingston. On the day of my twenty-fourth birthday, he married the ghost of his past. My silent question—the one that screamed in my eyes—meant nothing to him. “Delaney has late-stage cancer,” Rhys said, his voice flat with forced martyrdom. “She has less than a month left. This is her last wish. I can’t let her die with a regret like that hanging over her.” Delaney Cole leaned against his shoulder, her eyes flicking toward me with unmistakable smugness. “I’m not really one for tragedy,” Delaney purred. “A marriage should be a celebration! Let’s turn this birthday party into a wedding reception—right now.” With one casual demand from Delaney, the private dinner I thought was for my twenty-fourth birthday became the spontaneous party for her and Rhys’s sudden wedding. My older brother, Adam, and our friends rotated around the table, offering toasts and well wishes. When it came to my turn, I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. Under the harsh, warning pressure of Rhys’s eyes, I picked up my glass, my expression perfectly neutral. “To the newlyweds,” I said, my voice steady. “May you be happily stuck with each other for life.” 1 The air in the private dining room solidified into a thick, uncomfortable silence. Every head snapped toward me. Rhys’s knuckles were white where he gripped his glass. He tapped the empty space beside him. “Stop the drama, Stone. Avery, come sit over here.” That seat—the one immediately to his right—had always been mine. Now, it had an unwelcome, temporary occupant: Delaney Cole. I ignored his command and took the seat next to my brother, Adam. Rhys’s eyes turned dangerously dark. Adam laughed, trying to smooth over the tension. “Rhys, we all know you treat Avery like a little sister, but you’re a married man now. You can’t be so casual. Delaney will get the wrong idea.” Delaney wrapped her arm around his, pulling their bodies closer until they were nearly touching. Rhys let out a short, hollow laugh. “Relax. I just want Delaney to leave this life without regrets. This marriage is on a one-month timer, then it auto-voids.” He gave me a pointed look. “Besides, if I were ever truly going to marry her, I wouldn’t have waited until she was dying.” Adam and the others scoffed. “Come on, man,” a friend said. “When Delaney first moved overseas, you were depressed for six months. You were the most eligible, sought-after bachelor in the whole scene, and all you did was hang out with us, swearing off serious relationships.” “You kept saying you weren’t interested, and yet the minute Delaney snaps her fingers, you’re running to the courthouse? Nobody believes you weren’t waiting for her.” “Yeah, Rhys, you were wasted one night and admitted you were waiting for her to come back. I’m not making it up; everyone here heard it.” A chorus of drunken affirmations followed. I just stared at my drink, taking long, slow sips, a searing, spasmodic pain contracting in my chest. I’d been with Rhys since I was eighteen. At twenty-two, I wanted us to go public. He told me he was an investor in my brother’s company, and going public would invite malicious rumors about our relationship. He claimed I was too young to handle the scrutiny. At twenty-three, he promised me. Wait until you turn twenty-four, and if we’re still together, we’ll tell everyone. Today was my twenty-fourth birthday. And he married Delaney Cole. Delaney gave me a sickeningly sweet smile. “Avery, even if our marriage is for show, we’re legally wed. You’ve been getting nice birthday gifts from Rhys for years, haven't you? Shouldn’t you offer a tribute to his happy occasion? I really love the necklace you’re wearing. Can I have it?” My fingers involuntarily curled, and a knot tightened in my throat. This wasn’t just a necklace. It was the gift Rhys had given me on my eighteenth birthday—the same year he first told me he loved me. Five years. I had never once taken it off. Adam saw my silence and tried to intervene. “Avery, you know Rhys has always carried a torch for Delaney. They missed so many years. Just be the bigger person and let them have this.” I looked at Rhys. He hadn't said a word. Then, Delaney slid off her seat and settled herself onto his lap, draping her arms around his neck in a childish, seductive display. “Rhys, I really, really love it. Buy me an identical one, okay? Then I can die in peace.” Rhys chuckled softly, pulling her close to his side. “Stop talking about dying. That necklace is just a cheap trinket, anyway.” He turned to me, the light in his eyes cold and transactional. “Avery, since your sister-in-law likes it, just give it to her.” I didn't know how to speak. For five years, I had sacrificed everything for this man. My reputation. My dignity. My own desires. I’d done everything he wanted. When he asked me to trade my comfortable white tees for sleek, revealing slip dresses, I did it. When he said he wanted the thrill of secrecy, I kept our relationship underground. But in this singular moment, I realized the heart I had offered him for five years was, to him, worth less than a piece of cheap costume jewelry. While Delaney was still basking in his attention, and as the table roared with approval, she captured his lips in a long, sensual kiss. Still silent, still refusing to give him the satisfaction of my tears or my rage, I unclasped the chain and placed it gently on the table. “Mr. Kingston is right,” I said, my voice empty. “It’s just a cheap trinket. Enjoy it.” 2 Rhys’s gaze locked onto me, a furious, frustrated fire smoldering in his pupils. He squeezed Delaney’s arm until she cried out in pain before he reluctantly loosened his grip. He sneered. “Since Avery is being so generous, Delaney, take it.” Delaney picked it up, examined it for a few seconds, and then wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It’s actually not that pretty. Far less impressive than the things you usually buy me, Rhys.” She tossed it dismissively to the catering assistant clearing the table. “Here. You can have it. You might get a few bucks for it.” Watching the necklace, the symbol of five years of my life, fall amidst the food scraps and dirty napkins, the blood in my veins seemed to condense into ice. Rhys noted my stark white face, his voice sharp and demanding. “What are you waiting for? We’re celebrating my wedding tonight. Everyone drink up. No one leaves early.” My face was the color of chalk. “No, thank you. You all enjoy yourselves. I have other plans.” The moment the words left my mouth, Rhys’s expression turned venomous. I ignored it, turned my back, and walked out of the private room. By the time I reached the secure parking level of his penthouse, my phone was still notification-free. Rhys hadn’t sent a single text, a single apology, a single explanation. But he had updated his social media. I tapped the app. The video showed him and Delaney feeding each other a single cookie, culminating in a passionate, dare-you kiss. As their lips intertwined, everyone in the comments gushed over the beautiful, tragic love story of Rhys and Delaney—five years apart, finally reunited—and no one in that cheering crowd knew about the woman who had been hidden for those same five years: Avery Stone. In the video, Delaney was blushing, all captivating femininity, as she pressed a provocative kiss to his throat. Rhys didn’t pull away. The look in his eyes—that dangerous, barely contained frenzy—was the look I knew from our most intimate moments. Now it belonged to Delaney. Rhys Kingston, if this is your choice, then I’ll grant you your wish. I gave a dry, self-mocking laugh. Then, I tapped the ‘Like’ button on his post. After that, I silently packed and cleared every last trace of my existence from the penthouse apartment he had given me. I had begged him countless times to go public. I had cajoled, threatened, and even, in the hazy aftermath of passion, whispered the question: When will we tell everyone? Rhys always had an excuse, a postponement. Until Delaney. For her, he introduced her to his entire inner circle, instructed everyone to call her his wife, announced their marriage, and took her to the courthouse. In this moment, I saw with brutal clarity: He wasn't afraid of going public. He just wasn't in love with me. Once everything was done, I drove back to my own apartment. The door had barely closed when my parents, currently overseas, video-called. “Sweetheart,” my mother chirped, “do you remember Kellan Croft? You two grew up together, and he’s back in the States. You should find some time to meet up.” During my years with Rhys, my parents had tried to set me up with countless good men, just waiting for me to say yes. Every time, I refused. I was twenty-four now. Starting a new life, a new romance, wasn't too late. Seeing the cautious hope in my parents’ eyes, I didn’t hesitate this time. “Okay,” I said. “I will.” Immediately after, I submitted my resignation to Rhys’s company’s HR. My loyalty to Rhys had been absolute. I started as an intern the day I graduated, and to help him win a crucial bid, I’d stayed up for days, analyzing data, sourcing materials, and perfecting the pitch. I lost ten pounds during that stretch. Rhys had been so tender, so worried, sending his personal chef to the office with gourmet meals. Back then, even in secrecy, his devotion to me was undeniable. Now, that special attention belonged to Delaney. Moments after the resignation email went out, Rhys called. The moment I answered, the line went dead silent. In the past, no matter who initiated the call, I was always the one to break the silence and find a topic. This time, I couldn't muster the energy. Just as I was about to hang up, assuming he wouldn’t speak, his voice—cold and laced with annoyance—came through. “Avery Stone, what is the meaning of the social media like and this resignation letter?” “Delaney has one month to live. Can’t you wait even that long?” he challenged, his voice rising. “Are you truly not afraid I’ll break up with you for good?” I used to be terrified. So, I played the good girl, the compliant one. I wouldn’t play anymore. “Rhys,” I said, my voice flat. “Then let’s break up.” 3 The day after the breakup, I received an email confirming my resignation was accepted. The HR tone was curt. I was instructed to collect my belongings immediately and warned never to set foot in the building again. Rhys was clearly furious. Walking past the cubicles, I heard the snide whispers. “The only reason Mr. Kingston gave her the time of day was because she was the partner’s sister. She actually thought she was going to be the next Mrs. Kingston. Now she’s just running off with her tail between her legs.” “So what if he spoiled her? She embarrassed the real Mrs. Kingston the other night. She deserved to be fired.” Deaf to the mockery, I focused on completing my final handoff. The moment the paperwork was stamped, I would be free of Rhys forever. “Hold it right there.” Rhys’s cold voice cut through the air behind me. Delaney was leaning against him, looking frail but shooting me a triumphant glance. “The confidential information for this morning’s bid was leaked. I heard that Ms. Stone, the secretary, handled those files.” I turned to Rhys, utterly stunned. “You suspect me?” “We’ll know for sure once we check the computer,” he said, his eyes devoid of emotion. At his nod, a pair of IT staff immediately moved to my desk, sitting in my chair. It felt like a slap across the face. I had poured my life into those bid documents, and now Rhys was accusing me of sabotage. “Don’t touch my computer!” They weren’t just looking for files; they intended to restore everything I had ever deleted. If they did that, the hundreds of private photos of Rhys and me—and the undeniable proof of our five-year relationship—would be revealed to the entire company. Security guards were blocking the way. I was helpless. “Rhys, tell them to stop. I didn’t leak anything.” He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin, his face a mask of iron. “Did you leak the files?” The crowd murmured, the insults sharp. “Of course, it was Avery Stone. Why else is she reacting like this?” “She didn’t get the boss, so she got her revenge by sending the bid to a competitor? That’s sick.” Rhys cut them off, his voice ice. “Everyone shut up. Are the files restored?” “Restored!” I whipped my head around. “Don’t open it, Rhys.” He squeezed my wrist harder. “Open it!” As the intimate photos flashed across the screen for everyone to see, it felt like my last shred of privacy had been ripped away. The shame was so overwhelming I nearly broke down in tears right there. Rhys’s face was unreadable for a moment. Then, he smiled. He casually surveyed the digital evidence. “Avery Stone, are you a delusion case? Where did you find these pictures, and how badly did you Photoshop my face onto some stranger’s body?” The collective laughter of the crowd crashed over me. In that moment, the humiliation was a tide, threatening to drown me. He had married Delaney in secret, and I accepted it. He turned my birthday into their reception, and I tolerated it. But he would never acknowledge our life, even now, when it would save me. Delaney mocked me. “Avery, do you love Rhys? If you admit it, I might actually let you have him.” Rhys frowned slightly at her, then dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “Don’t get involved in Avery’s nonsense, Delaney. Everyone here knows I treat her like a little sister. If you like those pictures, I’ll hire a professional to edit a few good ones of us.” He was retaliating for the breakup. He was deliberately denying me, humiliating me. But the words were still countless tiny knives slicing into my heart. I dug my nails into my palms until I drew blood, forcing myself not to cry. Delaney smiled, satisfied. “Rhys, you’re so cruel to break a girl’s heart like that! At least spare her some dignity. What if she runs away, like I did years ago? You might not get her back this time.” Rhys was absolutely certain I wouldn't leave. “Where would she go?” he scoffed. “She’s either hanging around her brother or tagging along behind me. She’s throwing a tantrum. In three days, she’ll be begging me to reinstate her.” In the past, our fights never lasted more than thirty-six hours, and I was always the first to back down and come home. But the Avery Stone he was talking about was gone. How long would it take for him to realize it? 4 I was numb to the surrounding laughter and insults. After the IT staff left, I looked Rhys in the eye. “Mr. Kingston, the investigation proves the leak had nothing to do with me. Don’t you think you owe me an apology?” The crowd erupted in angry whispers. “Is she insane? Demanding an apology from Mr. Kingston? Who does she think she is?” “He’s letting her walk free! She should be grateful. No one can prove she didn't do it.” Rhys frowned in annoyance. “I was following protocol by checking your computer before your departure. You want an apology for that?” He threw his hands up. “Avery Stone, are you crazy, or am I?” My voice remained eerily calm. “Three hundred photos on that computer. You know exactly where they came from.” “Five years, Rhys. All I’m asking for is one apology. Is that really too much?” His expression instantly became conflicted. Delaney walked toward me, her face full of forced kindness. “Today was a misunderstanding, Avery. Rhys and I didn’t handle things well. I’m sorry if I offended you.” As she spoke, she suddenly dissolved into a fit of harsh, racking coughs. Rhys’s tension instantly flared. He rushed forward to support her, then whirled on me, his face contorted in anger. “What did you say to her? What did you do?” He looked at me as if I were a dangerous criminal. “Avery Stone, take your anger out on me. She’s a patient. Why are you deliberately trying to upset her?” Delaney shook her head weakly. “I’m fine, Rhys. She’s just young. I’ll talk to her.” She gently pulled away from Rhys and walked toward me. I caught the fleeting, triumphant smirk in her eyes. Before I could even process what I was seeing, she deliberately let her legs buckle and collapsed onto the marble floor. The room went silent. Everyone saw her fall, unassisted. Except Rhys. He charged at me like a madman, shoving me away with brutal force. I stumbled, hitting the edge of a nearby desk with a sickening thud. A searing spike of pain shot through my lower abdomen, and my vision whitened. Rhys didn’t spare me a single glance. He was kneeling over Delaney, his voice full of protective fury, directed straight at me. “Avery Stone, you better pray Delaney is okay. Otherwise, I will make your life a living hell.” The man I had loved for five years was threatening to destroy me for the woman who had just faked her own fall. The last vestige of hope in my heart evaporated. Suddenly, a woman screamed. I looked down. My hand was covered in a slick, dark crimson. It was coming from me. Before everything faded to black, I saw Adam, his face pale with terror and rage, rushing toward me. He lifted me gently, his hands trembling. “Don’t be afraid, sis. I’m here.” As Rhys carried Delaney into the emergency room, he received a call from my brother. For the first time ever, Adam was screaming at him. “Rhys, I’ll deal with how you treated Avery later!” “Get over here right now. She just miscarried. The baby is gone.”
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