I watched as Suzette and Carter slipped into his car and drove off, their figures blending into the bustling street. They looked perfect together—like they belonged in a movie scene. But deep down, I knew Carter doesn't have feelings for Suzette. My brother's already taken, and he's not interested in anyone else. It's clear as day that Carter just treats her as his friend.
I couldn't help but hope Suzette finds someone else before she falls any deeper for my brother's growing affection, especially since he's gay and not even aware of what he's really feeling. It's complicated, and I wish things were simpler.
Once they drove away, I was left standing alone. I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for my car keys, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. I headed to my black Toyota Sedan, unlocked it, and slid inside.
As I started the engine and pulled onto the busy streets of Aubigo, my thoughts began to drift. The city buzzed around me, but my mind was elsewhere. Uncertainty crept in again—an unwelcome, familiar feeling.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Was it really better to go alone? Who could I call? An ex-colleague? A friend? Anyone?
Honestly, I felt completely fucked.
I was so confused, so delusional even, to think I could somehow manage to go to that wedding alone. I knew deep down I couldn't do it. I had to find someone—anyone—even if it was just a waiter at some rundown restaurant, anyone who could pretend to be my date.
Frustration boiled over, and I groaned loudly, pounding my fists against the steering wheel. I was going crazy just thinking about the whole mess. I'd never had many male friends, and I never bothered trying to make any. Hunter always refused upon it, warned me to stay away from unnecessary complications.
That Cheater.
We had known each other since elementary school, and we started dating during our sophomore year of high school. He had always been there—through puberty, adolescence, adulthood, cranky college days, college graduation, post-grad school, my internship days—through it all.
I remembered the nights I sat beside him as he broke out of his architecture firm to go solo. I was there during those late nights when he worked himself to exhaustion, and the mornings when he slept in late, exhausted from the night before. I'd leave a cup of coffee on his cluttered desk, and I'd gently take off his socks and help him into bed when sleep caught him at his work table. When he finally achieved his breakthrough and started his own firm, I supported him in every way I could.
We were there for each other's biggest moments—through every milestone, every triumph and heartbreak. Yet, he betrayed me in the worst possible way.
It could have been anyone. I wished it was anyone else—any random girl, anyone outside our circle. But no, he had to choose my twin sister. And I would never—
Horror flickered in my eyes as I suddenly saw the traffic light above. The bright red was blaring, a harsh warning in the chaos of the street. I was just about to make a major crossover from my side of the junction to the other when I caught sight of that glaring red.
Panic seized me. My foot slammed down on the brake pedal with all my might, causing the car to jerk to a sudden, jarring stop. The world outside blurred for a moment as I fought to steady my breathing, my heart pounding in my chest.
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I had managed to stop in time. If I hadn't, I would have lost my car—and paying nearly a hundred dollars to retrieve it, or more if I was caught disobeying traffic laws, was money I simply didn't have.
Suddenly, BANG!
My eyes widened in horror as shock shot through my entire body. My head jerked forward, threatening to hit the steering wheel. Instinctively, I pressed my hands against the horn, trying to stop my head from colliding with the steering column.
The impact from behind was jarring—an intense collusive force that shook the entire car. The crash was sudden and brutal, leaving me stunned and trembling as I struggled to process what had just occurred.
What the hell just happened?
It could have fucking killed me! The thought sent a jolt of terror through my body, making my heart race violently against my chest. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I fought to steady my breathing, fingers trembling against the smooth leather.
If I arrived at the venue battered and injured, they'd say I was trying to end my life. I could already see Navira's fake tears, her exaggerated concern. She'd blame herself—call it her fault for pushing me too far, for being the reason I couldn't handle the betrayal.
That word—suicide—it tightened my jaw with bitter resolve.
"Poor girl. Can't handle the betrayal," they'd say with pity in their voices.
Anger. That was all I seemed capable of these days. A burning, consuming anger. It flooded me once again as I yanked the car door open and stomped out into the street, leaving the wreckage behind.
Whoever was behind me was going to pay for the damages. I was lucky—my car was insured, but I refused to let the careless driver get away with this. Never.
My eyes locked onto the sleek black Range Rover once again, even as I stared past the windshield to the driver inside. He was visibly shaking, trembling as if the shock had just hit him. All the cars around us had come to a stop, the silence thick and tense.
'Was he really still sitting in there after almost killing me?' I thought, my blood boiling with rage.
Without thinking, I marched closer to the vehicle and, with a sharp slap, pressed my palm against the windshield. "Mister, I swear to God, if you do not get down from this car right now, I'll make sure neither of us walks out of here sane!" I shouted, my voice trembling with fury. "You almost killed me, and you're sitting there like nothing happened?!" My eyes darted over the scratched bonnet—the damage was evident on his car too, but it wasn't enough. Not for me.
Finally, I had found a way to release a month's worth of bottled-up frustration. It didn't matter that the man behind the wheel was about to take the blame—my anger needed an outlet, and this was it.
Slowly, the young man climbed down from the driver's seat and stood before me, hands raised in a tentative gesture. "Madam, I'm so sorry. I—"
I cut him off sharply. "You're sorry? You've ruined my car and almost killed me, and you're sorry?!" I spun around, pointing at my car, then back to him, my voice trembling with rage. "I was driving right in front of you! And you just ran into me! Where was your eyes? Up in the clouds?!"
His apologetic eyes, hidden behind heavy lenses, did nothing to soothe my fury. I was so consumed by anger that I couldn't see reason. Everything felt wrong—like the universe was conspiring against me. Why did it always have to be like this? Why did everything seem to turn against me, one disaster after another?
I was so absorbed in shouting and ranting that I didn't notice the man's eyes shift away from mine, settling on the figure behind me.
"Sir Ashcroft… Please get in the car. It's nothing serious. I'm handling it," the man said, his tone laced with a strange mix of respect and fear that darkened his gaze.
I paused, confusion flickering in my mind. It was only then that I became aware of the sound of heavy breathing above me. I turned slightly, catching the shadow that loomed over my shoulder—the subtle but undeniable presence behind me. The direction of the driver's gaze told me everything: someone was watching me from right behind.
My eyebrows furrowed into a scowl as I spun around sharply. My eyes met the broad chest of a man dressed impeccably in a dark blue suit. Uncertain of what I was about to face, I traced my gaze upward—over sculpted shoulder blades and a commanding physique.
Finally, my eyes locked onto his face. Piercing blue eyes gazed back at mine, sharp and unwavering, as if they could see straight through me.
I froze, the look in his eyes was cold enough to freeze me in place.
"Call another car, Atlas. I'll take care of her," the man said, his gaze shifting away from mine to the driver behind me.
My eyes remained fixed on him, sinking deeper into his icy blue stare as he looked back down at me. There was an unspoken command in his expression, a presence so commanding that I felt rooted to the spot.
I couldn't scream at him the way I had with the driver. It was as if his piercing gaze had paralyzed me, silencing my protests before they even formed.
He raised an eyebrow in a quiet inquiry. Only then did I realize I had been gawking at him, caught in the web of his intense gaze.
"What seems to be the problem, miss?" he asked, his attention now shifting to her. His voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority, as if he already knew the answer.
'Why is a hunk like him standing in front of me?' I thought suddenly, my mind caught between awe and frustration. I realized that his eyes, locked onto mine a moment longer, had left me tongue-tied, unable to muster even a simple response.