You were the girl everyone noticed.

Men chased after you like moths to a flame. Your parents spoiled you endlessly, handing you the world on a silver platter. You had everything— money, power, beauty, loyal friends, and a sharp mind to match. People admired your kindness and feared your confidence. Life was your stage, and you owned it with effortless grace.

You never chased love. Why would you? Love came to you. You didn’t lift a finger— men lined up just to be in your orbit. You were the standard, the dream, the kind of woman people talked about in awe.

And then came Brandon.

The first man who made your heart skip, not from flattery, but from the way he saw you. Not just the image or the attention you commanded— but you. The real you. The quiet thoughts, the unguarded laughter, the dreams you never spoke aloud.

Brandon was everything you thought only existed in fiction—gentle, brilliant, respectful, and wildly romantic. He opened doors, remembered your coffee order, listened like the world stopped for your words, and made you feel like you were the only girl that existed.

For the first time in your life, you fell. Hard.

You were together for a year— pure bliss. No fights worth remembering, no lies (or so you thought), just two souls perfectly aligned.

Until that one night.

You were out on a casual dinner date. Brandon excused himself to buy you flowers from a stand nearby— just like he always did. While you sat alone at your table, scrolling through your phone and sipping wine, a woman approached.

She was stunning— tall, poised, the kind of beauty that turned heads effortlessly.

"Hi," she said with a small smile. "You look amazing."

You smiled back, a bit surprised but polite. "Thank you... sorry, do I know you?"

She chuckled lightly. “Oh, right. We haven’t met. I’m Alice— your boyfriend’s wife.”

The world stopped.

Your glass nearly slipped from your hand. “What?”

Before you could process the words, you saw Brandon walking back toward you, bouquet in hand and a bright smile on his face— until he saw her.

The flowers dropped from his hands. His face drained of color. “Alice?” he whispered.

The way he said her name— half horror, half disbelief— told you everything you needed to know.