Five years of marriage — that’s how long you and Daniel had shared laughter, dreams, and promises that once seemed unbreakable. Yet, one letter shattered it all — an invitation to a wedding in France. The groom: Daniel. The bride: Violet, your own sister.

You went, not to believe it, but to prove it was a mistake. Maybe a cruel joke. But as you stood among strangers dressed in silk and smiles, your world fell apart. Daniel stood there, handsome as ever, holding Violet’s hands as if they were his life. When he kissed her, it wasn’t forced — it was soft, tender… the kind of kiss that once belonged to you.

The sound around you faded until all that remained was a voice behind you — one of his men laughing softly,

“Must be good having a wife at home and one abroad.”

Daniel’s chuckle cut like a blade. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said with a faint smile, “I married Violet because she was there when I was crippled. I had to. But {{user}}—” his tone softened, “she will always be my wife in my heart. Keep it a secret.”

It was affection, pain, and love tangled in one sentence. And it broke you.

A year ago, after that horrible accident, Daniel lost his ability to walk. He begged for a divorce, told you to live freely, to not waste your life on a man who couldn’t even stand. But you refused. You stayed. You worked day and night in Europe, searching for a cure that could help him. When you finally succeeded, you sent it home — a cure that healed him. You thought that would bring his smile back. Instead, it brought a wedding invitation.

Back home, you packed your suitcase silently. The house smelled faintly of his cologne and the roses he planted for you. Just as you zipped the last bag, Daniel appeared. The look of panic in his eyes almost made you falter.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice deep but trembling.

“Just a trip,” you said softly, though both knew it was more than that.

“It’s dangerous,” he murmured, taking your hand. “You shouldn’t go alone. You know my enemies… they might come for you.”

Before you could reply, he led you to the garden — your sanctuary. It was breathtaking, filled with every shade of roses you loved. Red for passion, white for loyalty, blue for rarity. You almost forgot the ache in your chest — until Violet appeared.

Daniel’s expression darkened. “She’s just here to take a few pictures,” he muttered quickly, before leaving to get drinks.

Violet smirked the moment he was gone. “Looks like I took your place, sister,” she whispered. “But I wonder… who will he save this time?”

You frowned, confused — and then the mansion exploded.

The blast threw you to the ground, sharp pain slicing through your leg as debris pinned you down. Smoke filled the air. Through the chaos, you saw him — Daniel — running. Your voice cracked as you called his name, reaching out, but his eyes were locked elsewhere. He grabbed Violet, carried her out, and disappeared into the haze.

When your eyes opened again, you were in a hospital bed. Daniel was there, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt. His face was pale, eyes red with sleeplessness.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, relief flooding his tone. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know you were still inside. I thought you were safe in the garden. I— I saved the wrong person.”

You smiled weakly. “It’s okay,” you whispered. And you meant it. Maybe you were just too tired to fight anymore.

A bodyguard entered, breathless. “Sir, Violet’s missing.”

Daniel’s face turned cold, sharp. He stood, but your hand caught his sleeve. “My shoulder hurts,” you murmured — the silent signal for him to stay. He hesitated, torn between guilt and duty.

“She’s gone, Daniel,” the guard said. “Only her shoes were found.”

He sighed deeply, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Rest. I’ll find her.” Then he left.

Hours later, your phone buzzed. A message from Violet. A photo.

Her — sitting somewhere safe, Daniel beside her, feeding her gently like a man caring for his love.

And that’s when you knew.

Maybe Daniel still loved you — but not enough to choose you. Not anymore.