Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica I Choose The Arranged Marriage

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."

I found myself really seeing our apartment for

where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen

magical now felt poisonous, each

methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers" coffee

my proof that what we had was real. Now

home for two

emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of furniture I'd

to its original state: stark minimalist, black

tried calling him one last time.

Chapter 4

Finally, a text appeared:

you're ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have