He Loved Her Too Late to Matter

Third Person POV

Time flew by. Chelsea was still reviewing some documents at home when Magnus pulled up in his car to pick her up.

She tucked the papers into her bag and got in without a word.

The car ride was quiet, and before long, they pulled up to the KTV lounge she had chosen.

As soon as they stepped into the private room, the loud, pounding music made her instinctively frown.

“There you are, Chelsea!” Sabrina called out, quickly rushing over. “Come sit here!”

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Chelsea’s hand and led her right to the center of the room.

“They were supposed to welcome me back today,” Sabrina said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “but Magnus insisted on making it your belated birthday party. So here I am, just tagging along.”

She gave Chelsea a look filled with mock sincerity. “See how much Magnus loves you? I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

Chelsea scanned the room quietly. Nearly everyone in the booth was either a friend of Sabrina’s or Magnus’s. A soft, humorless chuckle rose in her throat.

So this was her birthday celebration? Looked more like Sabrina’s welcome party in disguise.

Just then, Michaela came over, holding two glasses of wine.

“Chelsea, I’m really sorry about yesterday,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to push you like that. Please don’t be mad.”

She extended one of the glasses toward Chelsea.

Chelsea’s eyes flicked from the drink to Magnus, who was lounging nearby, silently smoking. He didn’t say a word or make a move.

A repeat of the same trick.

She wasn’t that naïve.

“If you’re sincerely apologizing, Michaela, then of course I forgive you,” Chelsea said, smiling. “But how about this—if you're really sorry, drink three glasses yourself. Then we’re good.”

Michaela’s expression changed instantly. Her hand trembled just slightly.

So the drink was spiked.

Before the tension could settle, Sabrina cut in.

“Oh, come on, Chelsea. Michaela’s just a kid. Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far?”

She reached over and nudged the wine glass toward Chelsea again.

Chelsea stared at it for a long moment. Then her voice came out calm and clear.

“If she’s just a kid, then why don’t you drink it for her?”

“You—!” Sabrina froze, completely thrown off.

She hadn’t expected Chelsea to turn the tables so easily.

“Enough.” A cold voice rang out from the corner.

It was Magnus. He stubbed out his cigarette and slowly stood up.

“Chelsea, how long are you going to keep this up? Michaela already apologized. Why are you making things difficult?”

He stepped forward, his voice sharp and impatient. “Everyone’s here trying to give you a proper birthday, and this is how you act? Is this the kind of behavior your family raised you with?”

He reached out, took the wine from Sabrina’s hand, and gently pulled her behind him, shielding her like she was something precious.

“Drink it. Don’t ruin everyone’s mood.”

He placed the glass in front of Chelsea, his voice full of command and ice.

Chelsea looked at the drink, then slowly raised her gaze to the man she had loved for four years.

And in that moment, her heart shattered into pieces that she couldn’t gather anymore.

She checked the time. She had no desire to keep playing along with their twisted show. Without saying a word, she turned to leave.

But Magnus wasn’t done.

He grabbed her wrist, yanking her backward with force. As a result, she crashed onto the sofa, pain shooting through her.

Before she could react, he gripped her jaw tightly and forced the wine down her throat.

Chelsea choked, struggling, but his grip was iron.

No one stopped him. No one helped. Around her, people only watched, some amused, some indifferent.

Her vision blurred as the humiliation burned through her. And when the last drop of that wine was shoved down her throat, Magnus finally let go.

Gasping for air, Chelsea shoved him away with all her strength. She grabbed her bag and bolted for the restroom.