In the high society of Pisloe, there was an open secret. Neil Hartley, the golden boy, had a doormat—Olivia Erwin—who endured whatever he threw at her.
After seven years with Neil, Olivia secretly bought a diamond ring and put on her wedding dress. She was ready to propose at Neil’s birthday party. It had been seven years, and she couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to make their relationship official.
But as she reached the door of the VIP lounge, Neil’s voice stopped her cold. “Olivia? Oh, come on, seven years is more than enough.”
Olivia’s hand froze on the doorknob. Through the crack, she saw Neil lounging in the corner.
He leaned back on the sofa, lighting a cigarette, his tone dripping with disdain. “Isn’t that what everyone’s been saying? She’s just like a fawning pet. When I feel like it, I’ll give her a little treat. Who really cares about the feelings of a pet?”
“You’re the real deal, Neil,” someone shouted. “You even got yourself Olivia. She used to be so untouchable. Anyway, now she’s totally whipped, doing whatever you say.”
“Come on, though,” another voice mumbled. “With that face and body, she must be quite the ride.”
The room erupted in crude laughter.
Neil casually exhaled a plume of smoke, his voice flat. “Want to give her a try? She’s secondhand goods now. If you don’t mind, just say the word.”
Someone smiled, “Whoa, you got game.”
“Neil, here’s to you!” another chimed in.
The rest of their words faded into a blur. Olivia only felt a searing pain in her chest, as if a knife had been twisted inside her. It took her breath away. Her hand clutched the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Seven years—seven years of loving this man; seven years of dreaming of forever. Now, every memory felt absurd and cruel. Hot tears scalded her cheeks before she could even wipe them away.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, snapping her out of her daze. She quickly turned away from the door and headed for the bathroom.
She looked up and the mirror showed a face that was almost too beautiful to be real—slender eyebrows, a delicate nose, and eyes that sparkled with a natural allure.
Even with just a touch of makeup, she could turn heads. But now, her tears had streaked her makeup—a total disaster.
Olivia’s lips curled into a wry smile. “How pathetic,” she muttered, thinking of how her life had always felt like a mess, no matter how hard she tried to make it look perfect.
She glanced at her veil and tore it off, letting it drop to the floor with a flick of her wrist.
When she was sixteen, she’d moved into the Kline Manor with her mother Maribel, feeling like an outsider, always anxious and insecure.
Then Neil had saved her from danger without a second thought, and she’d been hooked. For seven years, she’d held on to the hope that if she just waited long enough, he’d see her. But reality had a way of shattering dreams.
Suddenly, her phone rang. She picked it up and found it was Neil calling. She quickly wiped away her tears and forced a bitter smile. It was time to face the truth and end everything.
“Hey! What the hell took you so long? Why aren’t you here yet?” Neil’s voice snapped through the phone the moment she answered.
Olivia felt a wry smile tug at her lips. She couldn’t even remember when Neil had started speaking to her like that—always short-tempered, always on edge. But every time, she’d found a way to justify it.
She told herself he was just stressed from work. That loving him meant being understanding. But now, the truth hit her like a punch in the gut. All those excuses she’d made were just lies she’d told herself. Seven years was more than enough.
A cold laugh escaped her. “Neil,” she said, her voice steady and calm, “let’s break up.”
