He Loved Her Too Late to Matter

Third Person POV

By the time Chelsea walked out of the restroom, she had already pulled herself together.

She’d reapplied a bold layer of makeup to cover her swollen, tear-stained eyes. When she returned to the event hall, Magnus and Michaela were already waiting.

“Babe, where’d you go? You were gone so long—I was getting worried!” Magnus rushed to her side. He paused for a beat when he saw her heavy makeup, then reached for her hand.

“I’m fine. Just went to the restroom,” Chelsea replied flatly, pulling her hand away from his.

“Really? You're okay?” He looked down at his now-empty hand, momentarily stunned.

She simply nodded and walked past him into the crowd, not bothering to say more.

Magnus stared after her, a frown forming between his brows. Something felt off about Chelsea tonight—different in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Just then, Michaela approached Chelsea with a glass of red wine in hand.

“Happy birthday, Chelsea,” she said with a sweet smile, the anticipation in her eyes poorly hidden as she held the glass out.

Chelsea stared at the swirling red liquid for a long time before finally taking it. She turned and walked back to Magnus.

Lifting her eyes to meet his, she asked quietly, “You really want me to drink this?”

She locked her gaze on him, searching for any sign of hesitation, a flicker of guilt—anything. But Magnus simply raised his own wine glass and said, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Then he downed his drink in one gulp.

Chelsea’s heart clenched so hard, it felt numb.

She slowly brought the glass to her lips—but the very next second, her hand slipped. The glass crashed to the floor and shattered with a sharp, echoing crack.

“Oh no, Chelsea! You’re so clumsy,” Michaela said, her smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Magnus, on the other hand, didn’t say a word. He just frowned and stepped forward to grab Chelsea’s hand, carefully checking her fingers for any cuts.

Chelsea stayed silent, her lips pressed into a tight line. If she hadn’t heard what they said in that private room earlier—if she didn’t know the wine had been drugged—she might have actually believed that Magnus was genuinely worried about her.

But now she knew it was all just an act.

After making sure she wasn’t hurt, Magnus called over hotel staff to clean up the broken glass.

The party continued, but Michaela wasn’t done trying. She kept approaching Chelsea with different excuses, trying again and again to get her to take the drug. But each time, Chelsea saw through her and avoided it with ease.

Eventually, Michaela grew desperate and angry. Losing her temper, she shoved Chelsea toward a table lined with wine glasses.

The loud crash of glass filled the room as several cups shattered on the ground. Chelsea, having lost her balance, fell hard to the floor.

“Oh no! Chelsea, are you okay?”

“What happened? Why were you being so careless?”

The sudden commotion drew everyone’s attention. Magnus, who had been standing not far off, rushed over.

Just as he bent down to help her, Michaela cried out again.

“Magnus! Something’s wrong—Sabrina was harassed at the airport!”

“What?!” he roared.

In that instant, Magnus’s hand, currently holding Chelsea's hand, immediately let go of it.

Without a second thought, he pushed through the crowd and ran out of the event hall.

Chelsea, now unsupported, fell back to the ground again.