He noticed she was struggling with a certain subject, and he didn't ignore it. Instead, Zeon made plans to help her, even if it meant adjusting their already tight schedules. Since she was busy with school and extra classes, they agreed to only meet on Saturdays—when she would be back from her sessions. It was their compromise, a sacrifice that showed commitment.
By June, Zeon had started working at a driving school company owned by his uncle. It gave him purpose, responsibility, and a little money to keep things moving. Through this job, he met various clients. One of them was a woman who exchanged contacts with him under the guise of needing lessons.
What started as business shifted quickly. She began initiating conversations that had nothing to do with driving. She switched the topic to love and relationships. She flirted. She made bold moves. Zeon told her more than once that he had a girlfriend.
And yet, he didn't cut her off.
Days after their chats began, the difference in his behavior became noticeable. Communication between Elara and Zeon, once effortless, began to lag. Messages came slower. Calls were shorter. The warmth faded. Elara told herself he was just busy with work. The thought that he could be entertaining someone else never even crossed her mind.
Until the dream.
It wasn't just a nightmare—it was a feeling. A vision. A warning. In it, there was a conversation, another girl, and a betrayal so real it woke her up with tears in her eyes. She shook it off. Tried to believe it was just anxiety or her past traumas resurfacing.
But something inside her didn't let go.
That Saturday, she visited him like normal. She smiled. She laughed. She acted like everything was fine. And Zeon, still the same caring boyfriend on the surface, handed her his phone without hesitation.
She didn't go through it. Not then.
But when it was time for her to leave and he went inside to fetch her a jersey, she sat alone with the phone—and with her thoughts. The dream clawed at her chest. She needed peace. Closure.
So she opened his chats.
Her heart didn't just sink—it burned.
The girl from the driving lessons had been texting him constantly. The messages were playful, flirty, personal. Even though Zeon kept saying he had a girlfriend, he didn't block her. He didn't end the connection. He entertained it. Quietly. Repeatedly.
Her stomach twisted. Her breath caught in her throat. She had never experienced that kind of betrayal before—not from him.
She put the phone down. Acted normal. But when she got home, she shattered.
Her body shook as she cried. She couldn't believe it—not because he cheated physically, but because he betrayed her emotionally. She confronted him. He sent screenshots showing that he mentioned her to the girl. That he said he had a girlfriend. But Elara couldn't understand why that wasn't enough reason for him to cut all ties.
"She was just a client," he said.
But something was already broken.
The tension that followed was unavoidable. The sweetness between them turned stiff. Their conversations became short, sometimes defensive. The lightheartedness that once defined them now seemed forced.
They had moved from the honeymoon phase into the reality phase—where flaws showed, where fights happened, where love had to be proven, not just spoken.
And Elara was left wondering if trust, once cracked, could ever feel whole again.