Chapter 10

"Sophia, don't look at me like that... please." His voice broke, his eyes red and shimmering like a lost child on the brink of tears.

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "Oh? How should I look at you then? Let's be honest, Ethan—right now, you're worse than trash."

Covering my mouth in mock surprise, I imitated Isabella's sickly-sweet tone. "Oh dear, was that too harsh?"

Ethan let out a choked laugh, tears streaming as he hunched forward, trying to steady himself. "I get it. But I won't give up, Sophia. When we meet again, I'll still be the man you loved."

As he turned to leave, shoulders slumped in defeat, I called out, "Wait."

He spun around, hope flickering in his gaze.

I smirked. "Take your trash with you."

Confusion twisted his features before his eyes landed on the blood and dirt smeared across his face. Disappointment darkened his expression, regret carving deep lines into his skin.

Without another word, he grabbed Isabella's wrist and yanked her forward, oblivious to her pained gasp as she stumbled—her ankle twisted from earlier.

She fell hard, crying out, but Ethan barely glanced back, his disgust mirroring the same disdain he'd once shown me. He dragged her along mercilessly, her screams fading into the distance.

Their chaos ruined the opera for me. Later, as I sat in the hospital, bandaging my scraped hands, regret gnawed at me.

Nathaniel, amused, flashed me a knowing smile before calling the opera troupe. With effortless charm, he extended their performance for three more nights.

When we returned, I thanked him, touched by his thoughtfulness.

But as I moved to leave, he locked the car door, trapping me inside.

"I keep my promises," he murmured, gaze intense. "Unlike rotten eggplants who don’t know their own worth."

I blinked, thrown by his words. With a quiet sigh, he finally released the lock. As I stepped out, his voice followed me, soft but firm.

"Pretending isn’t enough for me. That would make me miserable."

My breath hitched. I nearly tripped on the steps, fleeing inside before he could see the heat in my cheeks.

Two months later, news reached me—Ethan had lost his mind.

After our breakup, he neglected his company, obsessively searching for the man he used to be. He wandered the streets, clawing at his hair, muttering, "I'm sorry... I never should've hurt you."

Isabella tried to intervene, but he lashed out, leaving her hospitalized.

When she was discharged—her face permanently scarred—she demanded marriage. Ethan refused viciously, snarling that he'd only ever marry me.

Furious, Isabella took revenge.

The day Ethan wandered out searching for his past self, she slammed the accelerator.

He survived—but lost a leg.

His agonized screams haunted the neighborhood. Yet the next morning, he withdrew the lawsuit and bailed her out of jail.

Three days later, they married in a lavish, guestless ceremony—just reporters and hollow vows.

Ethan never came for me again. He remained trapped, chasing a ghost of himself.

When I heard, I celebrated with an ice-cold beer, relief and giddiness bubbling over. Under the stars, I impulsively kissed a handsome stranger’s cheek, laughing freely.

But the night soured when Victoria stormed up, her newborn in her arms. "Sophia, you’re shameless! You stole a house!"

I shrugged, grinning. "I didn’t want to! He insists I belong to him."