My Childhood Sweetheart Regrets Everything After I Dumped Him

"Oh? Do I need to report everything to you at all times?"

Hearing my defiant words, Bruce's brief moment of tension disappeared instantly, replaced by a mocking smirk. "You don't have to put on an act just to save face. Where's this so-called boyfriend of yours? Why not bring him out for us to see?"

"Have you kissed him? Slept with him?" he added.

His gaze swept over me from head to toe, filled with disdain. "With that ugly body of yours, would anyone even want you?"

His words sent an icy chill through me, freezing me to my core. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself, holding on tightly.

I had devoted everything to Bruce. How could I possibly have a boyfriend?

He was right. My body had long since become something no one would want to look at.

In my second year of high school, a fire broke out in our alley and spread to my home. I had been alone, studying in my room, and the suffocating smoke quickly rendered me unconscious.

It was Bruce who drenched himself in water, ignored the shouts of those trying to stop him, and wrapped himself in a bedsheet before charging into the flames to carry me out.

I had survived, but the burns left scars across my body—marks that deepened over the years, reminders of that night.

The boy who had once risked his life to save me was now the one ripping open my wounds.

How did we end up like this?

Back then, when people mocked me, Bruce would step in front of me and declare, "Ysabelle is the most beautiful girl in the world!"

He had spent an entire summer hauling crates of watermelons at a fruit stand just to buy me the best scar treatment cream.

Looking at him now, I realized—this was torment. I might just end up hating him.

Gianna, however, was enjoying the moment, eager to tear open my wounds and pour salt over them.

Bruce hadn’t said it outright, but he leaned in close to Gianna’s ear, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

"Be good. I'll tell you all about it in bed later."

Gianna giggled in his arms, her laughter laced with flirtation.

The people around them weren’t ready to let me off either, continuing their jeers.

"Who are you trying to fool? You probably made it all up."

"Some people will say anything just to save face."

A man with yellowed teeth even had the audacity to reach for my hand.

"If you don’t have anyone, I wouldn’t mind taking you. I mean, we can always turn off the lights at night."

His words sent ripples of laughter through the crowd.

I clenched my jaw, stomach churning with disgust, dodging as best I could.

But the people around me seemed to be nudging and shoving on purpose, forcing me closer to him.

I lifted my gaze to Bruce, locking eyes with him.

He didn’t stop them.

Not even a flicker of hesitation.

Just as that disgusting hand was about to graze my shoulder, a strong arm pulled me firmly into a protective embrace—blocking out all the malice.

"Sorry, I’m here to pick up my girlfriend."

My heart pounded wildly. Since when did I have a boyfriend?