Chapter 3 — A Rose Among Thorns
Days turned into weeks, and Elena learned what it meant to live as a shadow in her own marriage.
Noah stopped coming home.Vivian stopped pretending to care.And her parents — they acted as though nothing was wrong.
To them, image was everything.Pain was just a private luxury.
Every morning, Elena attended charity events, smiled for cameras, and played the role of the perfect wife. But every night, she returned to an empty penthouse filled with cold air and colder memories.
She would catch herself staring at the moon through the tall windows — the same moon she once thought watched over lovers. Now it only reminded her of loneliness.
One evening, while flipping through her art sketches, Elena found an old drawing — a bouquet of roses with a single thorn piercing through the center. Underneath, her younger self had written:
"Even roses bleed when loved too roughly."
She traced the words with trembling fingers. "I've always been bleeding," she murmured.
That night, she decided to confront the truth — one last time.
The Confrontation
She went to Arden Group Tower, Noah's company.The building shimmered with glass and arrogance, a reflection of everything she despised.
When she entered Noah's office unannounced, he barely looked up from his papers."Elena? I told you not to come here without calling."
"I did call," she said quietly. "You just didn't answer."
Noah sighed, loosening his tie. "I've been busy. You know how much work I have since the merger."
"Busy," she repeated, her voice hollow. "At work… or at Vivian's?"
That got his attention. His eyes flickered — guilt or annoyance, she couldn't tell."Don't make this ugly, Elena," he said coldly. "Vivian and I—"
"Vivian and you what?" she interrupted. "Love each other? Is that your excuse? Because I can't wait to hear how betrayal sounds when spoken out loud."
For a moment, silence swallowed the room. Then Noah looked at her — not with regret, but irritation."You were never the one I wanted," he said finally. "You were just the one who wanted me the most."
The words sliced through her like glass.
Elena didn't cry.She didn't scream.
She simply looked at him — at the man she once believed was her fate — and smiled a smile so calm it frightened him."Thank you," she whispered. "For showing me the truth before I wasted my whole life."
And then she walked away.
Out of the office.Out of his life.Out of the illusion she'd built around him.
Fate's Hand
It was raining again that night — as if the sky itself couldn't stand the cruelty below.
Driving home through the storm, Elena replayed every memory in her mind — the laughter, the vows, the betrayal. The road ahead blurred through her tears.
She never saw the truck.
The blinding headlights flashed once — then darkness swallowed everything.
When she opened her eyes again, the world was different.
The scent of roses. The soft hum of music. The golden light of a morning long gone.
She was back in her old bedroom — the one at Rosemont Villa.Her heart pounded wildly. The calendar on the wall showed a date that made no sense.
Three months before her wedding.
Elena's breath caught in her throat.Her trembling hand touched her reflection in the mirror — younger, unscarred, and still full of innocence.
"What is this…?" she whispered.Was it a dream? A second chance? Or fate itself giving her one last chance to rewrite her tragedy?
Either way, she knew one thing for certain —
This time, she wouldn't be the victim.This time, she would set the trap.