Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica, I Choose The Arranged Marriag by BlueMoone

Chapter 4

Seven years together. I’d thought that would mean something that Castro would at least trust my

character.

But in Oriana’s presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes.

Her word alone was enough to condemn me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.

The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who’d forgotten her place.

There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro’s angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap.

Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues‘ celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: “Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening – dinner’s on me.”

myself really seeing our apartment for the first time in

the window seat where we’d shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen -island where he’d taught me

felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory a thorn

found a moving box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching “Beauty and Beast” slippers, the “his and hers” coffee mugs that

security blanket, my proof that what we had

an elaborate performance.

didn’t come home for two

finishing my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated

original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness

tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met

rejection.

Chapter 4

text appeared:

guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing