Selene… why? The word tore out of me before my brain could catch up. My chest felt hollow, my hands trembling as if they were betraying my resolve. I searched her eyes, desperately clawing for some trace of the friend I thought I knew. I searched for some flicker of recognition or shame. Nothing. Only calm, calculated certainty.
"Why would you do this to me?" I whispered, barely able to breathe. "I would never—ever—betray you like this. Not in this life. Not in any other." My voice shook, fraying at the edges. "I can't step into your territory. I can't take what isn't mine. So why? Why are you doing this to me?"
Five years. Five years of my trust, my secrets, and my loyalty. Five years of thinking we were untouchable. The number reverberated in my skull like a curse, pounding against my temples.
"Why not—why not just tell me? You like him? You want him? … say it," I gasped, my words tumbling out in broken fragments. My throat burned. My heart felt hollow, as though it had been carved out and left in that room with them.
I couldn't believe the woman I called my best friend was lying there, on my bed. Lying beside the man I was supposed to marry—like she had always belonged. Everything I thought I knew about loyalty, friendship, and love had been a lie.
"You're supposed to be his secretary, not... the one that services his sanctuary. What are you doing? Girl! Girl! Girl! I've invested so much in this guy. Wake up. Come on. This guy can never be yours. He's mine."
I took a shaky breath. "You know the bond I share with Marcus." I poured out my heart, and somewhere I thought that she was going to apologize. She was going to get up and leave.
I stared into her eyes, hoping that I would see regret. That she would apologize. I even told myself that it seems she's trapped in something she doesn't know how to escape. and I was ready—ready—to help her fix it.
But her face stayed firm. It was cold and certain. She looked around the room as if it belonged to her. Then she stepped forward.
"Mira, stop all this petty attitude. Don't speak to me like that. I'm not your puppet. I've had enough of your brainless speeches." Selene barked.
"Oh dear mommy," she exclaimed mockingly. "Do I look like a child to you? I'm not your baby, moron." "Don't you see how foolish you sound? Girl, it's been half a decade. Don't you get it?" She mocked the life out of me.
She smiled. "I've been here for a long time. I didn't stumble into this. I chose it."
Then she said the words that made my stomach drop.
"You should pack your things and leave."
The room went silent.
For a moment, it felt like ice-cold water had been poured over my head. The audacity of it—the confidence—was unreal. Her telling me to leave my own home.
And then I laughed. Not because it was funny—but because my mind couldn't process the insanity of it. The sheer boldness. I was still laughing when Marcus finally spoke. And what he said next was the most venomous thing I had ever heard in my life.
"All right," Marcus said in a flat tone. "That's enough." He looked at me like I was already a memory. "Time's up, Mira. Pack your things and leave."
I watched him walk toward the wardrobe, my body frozen in place. He pulled it open and began tossing my belongings onto the floor. He treated them like they had never meant anything to him.
Then he stopped. Right there in the middle of it all. He turned back to me and said, almost casually, "Oh, and one more thing—just so you're clear."
My heart sank.
"This whole game, this whole charade, this dream wedding of yours, because it wasn't mine in the first place. I'm calling it off. I'm done with you and your silliness. I'm done with your drama. We are done." He exhaled.
"So if you were thinking of the wedding plans and handing out invitations—don't bother," he added. "Save yourself the effort."
"What?" I whispered. "Marcus… how dare you?" My mind refused to catch up with his words.
"Our wedding is being called off?" I said shakily. "I don't understand. You're ending this—ending us—because of Selene?"
I looked around the room, confused and disoriented.
"Pack my things?" I repeated. "Pack… where? Marcus, are you okay? Are you drugged? Where am I supposed to go?"
My heart began to pound harder.
"How can you speak to me like this?" I asked. "In this house? In our home? A place we built together?"
I searched his face, hoping to find the man I knew. Instead, all I saw was distance. Coldness. A stranger. It felt like someone else was standing in front of me. someone who could look me in the eye and decide I no longer deserved even basic respect. If he didn't want me there, why couldn't he at least allow me to leave with dignity? Why couldn't he let me gather my own things?
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "Why are you throwing my belongings away like this?"
I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to fight back. But I had nothing left. The words stopped coming. My body felt heavy and drained. It was like my mind was slowly shutting down—overloaded by pain, betrayal, and disbelief all at once.
I was too tired to argue. Too tired to defend myself. Too tired to beg. And in that moment, I realized the worst part wasn't being asked to leave. It was realizing that the man I thought I knew had already left long before this moment.
"For a split second, a dark, terrifying thought crossed my mind—one that scared me more than Selene ever could. I hated that rage had taken me there. I hated what this moment was trying to turn me into."
I forced myself to look away.
Instead, I turned to Marcus.
"Marcus, please," I said, stepping closer, my voice barely holding together. "Don't do this. We're getting married next weekend."
That was it.
The last strength I had.
"Come on," I begged. "Don't destroy us like this."
He shoved me away.
Not hard enough to throw me across the room—but hard enough to tell me I meant nothing in that moment. The pain of it ignited something in me.
I stared at him, shaking.
"When were you planning to tell me?" I asked. "When? You stink of betrayal." My voice cracked as the questions spilled out. "Was it going to be on our wedding day? At the altar? Were you going to disappear and leave me standing there?"
I pressed my hand against his chest—not to hurt him, but to make him listen. "How can you be this cruel?" I cried. "How?"
Tears burned my eyes. "As painful as this is, a part of me is relieved that I'm finding out now. Because this—this isn't love." I was trembling, overwhelmed by anger, heartbreak, disbelief—everything crashing at once. I didn't recognize myself anymore.
And then—
The sound echoed through the room.
A sharp slap.
The sound was sharp. Final. My head snapped to the side before I even felt the pain. When I hit the floor, something inside me went completely quiet.
I looked up at him, stunned. "You…" My voice shook. "You slapped me?" I couldn't believe it. I couldn't process it. That single moment did what nothing else had managed to do.
It reset everything.
"Yes," Selene spoke up. "He did." Her voice carried no emotion—no guilt, no hesitation. "And what exactly are you going to do about it?" she added. "Nothing." I barely heard her. I was drowning. I was completely submerged in pain, heartbreak, and shame. Then suddenly something else cut through the fog.
My Work. My presentation. A sharp panic seized my chest.
"Today is supposed to be the turning point of my life. The day everything finally aligned. And I had allowed these two people to destroy it—not only my day, but my future."
I checked the time. My heart dropped. I was late. Very late.
As I stood there trying to think. Trying to decide whether to pack, whether to leave, or whether to fight—Selene walked past me as if I didn't exist. She dressed herself calmly, wearing something that looked familiar. Then she moved toward the wardrobe and began removing the rest of my clothes.
She kissed Marcus casually and whispered something to him. She laughed softly, as if this were all a minor inconvenience in her day.
That was when I fell to my knees. "Please," I begged Marcus, my voice hoarse. "Don't do this. We can talk. We can figure this out. Please—this is too much."
He didn't look at me. "Mira," he said coldly, "I'm not moved by your tears. I'm done."
"You need to leave now," he continued. "If you don't, I'll make this ugly. And I know you don't want any trouble—not in your current situation."
That was when it became clear. I wasn't wanted. I wasn't needed. I had already been erased. Still, I managed to whisper, "At least give me time to pack my things properly. Time to settle till I can find an apartment."
Selene laughed. "That's not my concern," she said dismissively. "Sleep anywhere you like. You're not staying here." They gathered my belongings and pushed them outside.
Just like that. I stood there—broken, displaced, stripped of everything familiar.
Then my phone vibrated. I looked down. Missed calls. So many missed calls. From my boss, my assistant, and my office.
My heart sank as reality hit me all at once. I had spent over an hour begging someone who had already chosen to discard me.
The interview—the presentation—had already started. I whispered to myself, barely breathing, "You've ruined everything."
And then, a message blinked on my phone. From my managing director.
"Mira, do not report to the office. Consider your employment terminated."
The words hit harder than any slap could. First betrayal. Then displacement. Now, unemployment. My life wasn't over—it had just been crushed. Crushed under the weight of everything I had trusted, everything I had built, and everyone I had loved.
I gripped the steering wheel as if it were the only solid thing left in the world. My vision blurred, but one question burned through the haze:
Where do I go from here—when everything I knew has turned against me?