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.”

apartment for the first time in seven years.

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

each memory a thorn in my heart.

spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching “Beauty and Beast” slippers, the “his and hers” coffee mugs that fit together,

blanket, my proof that what we had was real. Now they were just

an elaborate performance.

home for two weeks.

sold or donated every piece of furniture I’d chosen, every decorative touch I’d

minimalist, black and

calling him one last time. Each attempt met with

rejection.

Chapter 4

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you’re ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize