He Thought I Was His, But I Choose My Own Fate

Nathan dragged me to the door without regard for my protests, his grip like iron. Without a second thought, he shoved me into the night.

“Get out and reflect on yourself! When you’ve figured it out, then come back!”

The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me alone in the pitch-black darkness. A deafening clap of thunder lit up the garden, its light casting fleeting shadows that only deepened my dread.

A burst of unpleasant memories flooded my mind and I slapped the door as hard as if grasping for a life preserver.

Desperately, I shouted, “Please, Nathan, let me in! I’m scared!”

My voice cracked and I begged, louder and more frantic.

“Nathan, I’m begging you—just this once! Let me in!”

Fear overwhelmed me, my chest tightening, my head spinning with nausea. I clung to the hope that if he opened the door. Even thinking that if he showed even an ounce of kindness tonight, I could forgive everything. But he didn’t.

I heard Nathan’s cold laugh from inside, followed by his teasing voice.

“What are you pretending for? Don’t you just want to compete for favour with Olivia? You’re just throwing a tantrum to get attention. You’re not even scared of thunder. Stop pretending!”

Nathan wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t feared thunder—before. But that night, trapped in a foreign land, isolated and powerless, the sound of thunder had intertwined with the pounding fists of drunk men on my door. Since then, every rumble of the sky had been a trigger, a reminder of my helplessness.

But he didn’t care to know that. Nathan never opened the door.

***

As I stumbled through the spinning world, I suddenly remembered the Nathan of my youth.

Once, bullies locked me in the school’s equipment room. Nathan had ignored the teachers’ warnings, stubbornly using bricks to break the lock. When the door finally swung open, light poured in and there he stood, radiant like a god descending to rescue me.

But that god was long gone.

***

I woke up on a man’s back. Under the dim glow of streetlights, I groggily murmured, “Nathan… is that you?”

Victor is about to be angry and laugh, muffling his voice against his back teeth. “Hannah, open your eyes. It’s me—Victor!”

A single thought struck me through my disorientation, ‘The god has been replaced’.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, there was a loud braking sound behind me. Nathan’s car came to a halt and the next moment, I heard the sound of one person’s hurried footsteps.

Before I could react, Nathan had already punched Victor in the face.

Victor staggered but steadied himself, carefully lowering me to lean against the streetlight. He turned back, his expression sharp as steel. Then, the two men started wrestling.

Nathan’s fists struck flesh. “Who gave you the right to touch my girlfriend? She’s mine!” Nathan roared, his voice filled with fury.

“Yours? Let’s see for how long,” he shot back before throwing himself into the fight.

The two men exchanged brutal blows, neither holding back. Nathan’s rage erupted with every punch. He talked about our past experiences.

“Do you know what we’ve been through? Ten years of knowing each other! Five years together! She has met my parents! She cooked for me at sunrise and stayed up all night to buy me medicine when I was sick. She’s been there for me through everything! What can you offer that compares?”

His words might have meant something once, but now they felt hollow, bitter. He glared at me, his voice laced with accusation.

“You’ve changed! Ever since you went abroad, I remember you’re not the sweet, gentle Hannah. You’ve become unbearable!”

Victor froze mid-punch, his gaze softening as he looked at me. His voice was quiet, yet his anger burned brightly.

“Gentle? If she stayed gentle, she wouldn’t have survived.”

Nathan paused, his movements faltering. His rambling voice sounded as if the pause button had been pressed, “What do you mean?”

Victor didn’t let up.

“She worked three jobs a day, Nathan. Three! She lived in dangerous alleys where she had to grow sharp edges just to make it through. If she hadn’t toughened up, she would’ve been eaten alive by those scum. Don’t pretend you don’t know! “

Nathan’s face fell, a flicker of understanding breaking through his anger. He grabbed Victor’s collar, his eyes bloodshot.

“Why? Why would she need to work? She’s never had to suffer like that before!”

Victor said nothing, his silence more damning than any words.

And then, realization dawned on Nathan. His hands shook as he slapped his own face hard.

“Damn it! I shouldn’t have trusted Olivia with this! She… she wouldn’t have…! How dare she…”

His voice broke, his regret palpable. He clutched his hair in anguish, but Victor wasn’t done.

“You call her your girlfriend,” Victor said, his voice steady but cutting. “So, where were you when she was being followed home by creeps?”

Victor continued, “Where were you when she was harassed, cornered and terrified? When she huddled alone in her room, blocking the door, covering her ears, hoping the drunk men banging on her door wouldn’t get in—where the hell were you?”

Not stopping there, “She cried herself to sleep, Nathan. She dreamed of you, begged for you in her sleep. And where were you? Huh?!”

Nathan’s hands dropped to his sides, his face pale as the weight of Victor’s words sank in.

“You say you’re her boyfriend,” Victor spat. “But for three years, I never saw you once. You would have known the hell she has been through if you could show up even once. You would have known what kind of life she has leading.”

The air hung heavy with silence. Nathan’s lips moved, but no words came. He couldn’t answer the only question that mattered.

“Where were you, Nathan Cross?”