Chapter 2

I didn't know how I'd left there. Sitting on the street bench, I felt like a lifeless shell, completely stunned, Rhys's words echoing in my mind: "Kaitlin was the woman I had loved for over a decade." Seven years ago, he'd knelt before thousands of teachers and students, flowers in hand, asking me to be his girlfriend. We traveled together, stayed up all night watching sunrises, took countless couple photos for our phone wallpapers. He even made a wish on a shooting star. Did he love Kaitlin then, too, when he placed the wedding ring on my finger and vowed to love only me for a lifetime?

Those cherished memories now felt like sharp swords, piercing my heart. And the one wielding them was the person I loved most. Unable to contain my emotions, I burst into loud sobs. Passersby stared in astonishment. Rain fell heavily. Pedestrians rushed home, but I felt utterly lost.

Rhys called. I almost answered, then remembered his words and hung up without hesitation. He called again; I refused again. Finally, I switched off my phone. I didn't want to hear his voice.

After what felt like a long time, I heard someone speak beside me, full of concern: "With this heavy rain, why don't you find shelter? You'll catch a cold." I shivered, realizing the rain hadn't touched me. Looking up, I saw Rhys standing beside me, holding an umbrella.

He saw me, soaked to the bone, pity in his eyes. He removed his jacket and gently draped it over me, guilt etched on his face. "Bridget, let's go home," he said.

I stared at him, astonished. I wished none of this had happened. I stood, ripped open his shirt, and slapped him, shouting at the top of my lungs, "Get out of here! I don't want to see you!" Tears mingled with rainwater on my face. I shivered, unsure if from cold or anger. It was the first time I'd ever struck him.

Rhys turned away, hesitated, then slowly faced me again. His eyes were slightly red, his expression lost. He looked at me, then lowered his head, biting his lip, looking like he'd done something terribly wrong. He said nothing.

I slapped him again, tears overflowing. Five bright red fingerprints marked his face. I wanted to hit him again, and again. Rhys suddenly grabbed my hand, pulling me into his arms, holding me tight. "Bridget, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

The umbrella fell. The heavy rain soaked us both. His strong body trembled. As I listened to his tearful apology, my resolve softened.

That night, I didn't share his room. Perhaps from crying, I lay in bed, my vision blurry, drowsy, unable to distinguish dreams from reality. A young man in a jersey appeared, shouting, "Bridget, wait for me. When I earn enough money to buy a house, I'll marry you." He blushed, avoiding my gaze, his voice hoarse with tension. His earnest confession moved me to tears. But before I could respond, Rhys's cold words shattered the moment: "Tomorrow, I marry Kaitlin. I hope you won't cause trouble."

Chapter 3