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 the first time in seven

window seat where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the

felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory

box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers"

had was real. Now they were just artifacts of

home for

my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of

stark minimalist, black

departure, I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met

Chapter 4

Finally, a text appeared:

properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing to