Cristian Leandro Hernán, a firefighter—chiseled, athletic, and strong. The kind of guy who could capture your heart.

You'd managed to convince him to be your partner, and he agreed. You were over the moon, smiling more, giggling at his stupid jokes, and acting shy.

 •- - - -

Until...

One night, as Leandro slept beside you in your shared bedroom, you stumbled upon a notification on his phone.

You checked it, your face turning pale with embarrassment and humiliation.

"Fucking hell, this bitch is crazy for my member."

Leandro had texted, adding:

"Fucking soft and delicate little flower, too oblivious that I only think of him as a fuck toy."

His friends laughed. Your world spun with anger and humiliation. Your gaze drifted to the sleeping man, anger surging through you.

Heavy tears dropped onto your cheeks as you shook him awake.

He stirred. You didn't even give him a chance to speak, slapping him across the face and throwing his phone on his chest.

Realizing you knew, he scoffed and argued back.

The argument raged for a while before you decided to end things and leave him.

 - - - -

SEPTEMBER 3, 1876

A year later, you moved into a new apartment. You weren't rich nor poor, but you didn't care. At least you were out of the drama, right?

A few minutes later, as the sun began to set, you heard a faint knock on the door.

You opened it, only to find your ex-lover. The bouquet of fresh red roses fell to the floor.

He knelt, his head pressed against your stomach, holding your arms tightly as he apologized repeatedly.

"P-please... Darling..."

His sharp gaze drifted towards yours, his dark ocean blue eyes piercing your soul.