"""Oh, let's see what he has planned today." She smirked as a maid approached her with a black blindfold.
The woman gently wrapped the blindfold over her eyes and led her into a dark room.
Footsteps faded into silence. And a door clicked shut behind them.
When the blindfold came off, Zaya blinked against the dim light and lifted her chin—ready for whatever came next.
A small smile formed on her lips. Fred had been her everything since the accident. The amnesia had stolen pieces of her life, but he'd stayed. Her boyfriend —A hotshot medical school graduate every girl drooled over.
Though… romance wasn't exactly his thing.
She still remembered their first Valentine's Day. He'd shown up in a monkey costume. No flowers. No card. Just bananas and a confused "I thought it'd be funny."
She shook her head, chuckling softly. Please don't let this surprise be bananas again.
The light flicked on, revealing nothing but blank white walls with projectors.
"Saw that coming," she muttered with a grin.
The projector flickered to life. Zaya's eyes flew open. Her phone slipped from her hand , clattering to the floor.
There she was —on screen. Tangled with a man—both of them naked. Her voice filled the room, breathy, loud and shameless as she moaned the unknown man's name.
She didn't even know who he was.
"Surprise," Fred said, clapping as he stepped out from behind in a black tux that somehow made him look even better.
"Thought I'd surprise your *ss today! Do you like it?" he added, towering over her with a grin.
Zaya just stood there, lips parted, eyes flicking from the screen to him.
"What the hell is this?" she breathed, her voice barely catching up to the chaos in her head.
"Your surprise, of course. Thought you'd like it," Fred said, tilting his head with a smug grin.
Zaya blinked, her chest rising and falling. "Fred, what is this? That's not me—I don't even know that guy!"
He let out a low laugh, cold and sharp. "Really? You don't know the guy you were screaming for?"
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"You fooled me for five years,five years Zaya" he said, stepping closer. "Turns out, you're just another wh*r* who belongs to the streets."
Zaya's breath caught in her throat. "Fred, stop. I swear—"
"Save it," he cut her off, eyes dark. "You've already performed enough."
"How did we go from you texting me a romantic message to come over for a surprise… to this?" Zaya cried, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Save it, you sl*t!" Fred snapped. "I'm done with you. Everything we shared—over. I can't marry a sl*t." He yanked a ring box from his pocket and hurled it across the floor. "That thing cost me a million dollars."
Zaya dropped to her knees, grabbing it with trembling hands. "Fred… don't do this. We're weeks from our wedding. I don't even know him. Can't you just — trust me?"
"Trust you?" he scoffed, wiping the spot on his arm where she'd touched him. "Get out of my way, wh*r*. I'm done."**
**"Fred!" she screamed, her heels wobbling as she stumbled after him. "Don't do this!"
But he didn't stop.
The last thing she saw was his cold, emotionless smile—as if she'd never meant a thing.
Then, without warning, strong hands seized her, locking around her waist and halting her in place.
**The man didn't speak.
A flash of metal—then pain exploded in Zaya's side as a golf club slammed into her ribs. She cried out, collapsing onto the floor.
Before she could breathe, he grabbed her like a rag doll and hurled her out the door.
She hit the pavement hard, vision blurring and blood pooling warm under her cheek.
Fred had paid him well—to "deal with the sl*t." And he had.*
Zaya managed to push herself up, the sting of the breakup deeper than any bruise the goon Fred had sent could've caused.
Her Fred? Five years of dedication, and this is how it ended? She had stuck by him through thick and thin—nights spent working long shifts to cover bills while he focused on medical school. And just when he finished, just as they were about to marry next week, he dropped her without a second thought.
Fred had been her everything. He was the one who had started fresh with her after her accident, the one who had been there when she couldn't remember anything—or anyone.
The hospital where she was treated was the same place he worked as a student doctor, and that's where it all began. She had fallen first, asking him out on a date, but he had turned her down, saying she wasn't his type.
Had he meant it? Had he really seen her that way, as someone not his type? Or had he used her all along, taking advantage of her vulnerability for all those years?
The thought gnawed at her.
"No… I can't just let him go," she whispered to herself, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her fingers trembled slightly as she dialed his number, praying he'd pick up.
The phone rang a few times, and just when she thought he wouldn't, his voice came through, cold and distant.
"What do you want, Zaya?" Fred's voice was sharp, like he'd been expecting this call.
"I need to talk to you… Fred, please," she begged, her voice breaking on the last word.
There was a long pause before he finally spoke, his words hit like a punch to her chest.
"Zaya, don't ever call me again. I'm done. I've moved on."
Her heart sank as the line went dead, the silence swallowed her whole. Before she could process his words, her phone buzzed with a message.
She opened it, her hands shaking. It was from Fred. He had sent a picture of a girl a fine chic actually with a caption —
"I'm with someone new. It's over. You should move on too."
Zaya stared at the screen, her breath catching in her throat.
A little hand tapped her back gently. Zaya turned around, startled.