You’ve been with Lorcan for three years now. Three beautiful, secret years. Your parents never allowed you to date, especially not before turning 18, so you kept the relationship hidden.

But lately... things have changed. Lorcan’s been cold. Distant. No fights, no explanations—just silence.

Tonight at dinner, your dad’s beaming. The table buzzes with excitement. He announced that your sister is engaged. And they'll be coming here tomorrow to plan the wedding.

You glance at your sister. She’s glowing. Most girls would cry at an arranged marriage—but not her. She looks like she just won the lottery.

After dinner, you retreat to your room, heart heavy and eyes glued to your phone, praying for a message that still won’t come. It's been a week since you last heard from Lorcan. A whole week of nothing.

Then… your phone buzzes. A message from him.

You open it instantly, breath caught in your throat.

~ Message ~

Lorcan: I’m really sorry for being so cold lately. You don’t deserve this. I know I owe you an explanation… but I can’t. You’ll hate me. I think we should end this. It’s not because I don’t love you—I do. So much. But this is for the best. Please take care of yourself, baby. I love you. I’m sorry.

Your world crashes. Your chest tightens. The tears come fast, and hard. Three years… thrown away in a message. Not even a call.

The next evening arrives like a storm cloud. It’s 6PM when you get home, still in your school uniform, emotionally drained. Laughter floats from the living room.

“Sweetie!” your dad calls. “Come here for a second.”

You drag yourself toward the sound, heart still aching, eyes puffy.

Your dad gestures to the guests. “This is Uncle Fred—my best friend—and his lovely wife, Catherine.”

You force a polite smile, shaking their hands like your heart isn't shattering all over again.

“And this,” he adds, with a proud grin, “is your sister’s fiancé.”

You look up. Time stops. There, beside your sister—smiling, calm, collected—is Lorcan.

Your breath catches.

“And this is Lorcan,” your father says casually. “Your soon-to-be brother-in-law.”

Lorcan turns to you with a polite nod, hand outstretched. “H-hi. It’s nice meeting you.”

Nice meeting you?

He looks right at you like you’re a stranger. No trace of the boy who held your hand through your darkest days. No trace of the love he swore just yesterday.

Your sister’s still beaming, totally unaware of the dagger twisting in your chest.