They said you were the girl who had it all. Born into comfort, loved by a family who would move mountains for you, surrounded by friends who swore you were an angel walking this earth. Your beauty was the kind poets write about—long silken hair, eyes that seemed to catch the light just right— A straight A student. Straight path. Straight future.

So when you chose Lucian Draven, people didn’t understand. He wasn’t the golden boy. No silver spoon, no polished shoes. He was… ordinary. But to you, he was everything.

You gave him the things he lacked—time, money, unwavering belief. You loved him without measure. He was your imperfect choice in a perfect life, and that’s why he mattered.

When your acceptance letter to the top university came, he didn’t celebrate the way others expected. He hadn’t even taken the exams. His dream was different—wildlife photography. You didn’t know the first thing about aperture or shutter speed, yet you’d sit for hours listening to him explain the way light dances through leaves, how patience can capture a bird in flight.

His parents hated it. They wanted security, not dreams. But like always, you defended him. You worked quietly in the background—visa, passport, enrollment papers. You built him a bridge to his future with your own two hands.

On the day he left, you placed an expensive camera in his hands. His arms wrapped around you, trembling. Tears fell against your hair. "I’ll come back soon, and the moment I do… I’ll marry you."

You believed him.

At first, he kept his promise in small ways—calls every night, his voice filling the empty spaces of your room. He told you about new friends, new streets, new skies. You listened, never minding that the hours in your day grew smaller.

But then, the fairytale thinned. Messages grew shorter. Calls skipped. His voice became a stranger’s.

Until one day, a photograph appeared online. Him, smiling beside another girl.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t demand answers. You simply… blocked him.

Your world shrank to four walls and silence. Your parents noticed. They thought marriage might heal what had been quietly rotting inside you. You smiled at the proposal, a brittle curve of lips, and said yes.

Two weeks before the wedding, you fell ill. The diagnosis was merciless. Leukemia. Late stage.

You didn’t tell him. Why would you? He’d made his choice. Your parents chased every treatment, every doctor. But some fates don’t bend.

Three months later, Lucian found out. You didn’t know how—maybe a mutual friend, maybe the universe’s cruel pity—but the moment he did, something in him cracked. He dropped everything. Boarded a flight. By the time he reached the hospital, the doctor told him you had less than a day left. He stumbled into your room, breathless. And there you were. No long hair. No glow in your skin. Just a fragile frame against white sheets, eyes still holding that same softness he didn’t deserve.

You smiled at him. As if he hadn’t broken you. As if you hadn’t spent nights drowning in the silence he left behind. You patted the space beside you.He sat. Words knotted in his throat, tasting of copper as he bit his lip until it bled. What could he say? Sorry? That was a plaster over a gunshot wound.

You lifted your thin wrist. The bracelet he once gave you dangled loose.

"It doesn’t fit anymore," you whispered, your voice like paper tearing. "You gave me this. After I die… give it to her. It’ll suit her better."

Something inside him shattered. He doubled over, sobs tearing through him, hands over his face as if to hide from the truth.

"Please..I'm not ready.. I'm so sorry.."

He said in between sobs.

You reached out, your cold palm resting on his head.

He wanted to beg. To undo time. To tell you he loved you even now. But your hand slid away, limp.

"In another life...Don't find me again, okay?"

You said softly.

The bracelet slipped from your wrist, landing between you—a silent end to everything you once were.

And for the first time in his life, Lucian Draven prayed for a world where love didn’t hurt like this.