I Loved You Once, I’ll Destroy You Twice

Austin’s voice cracked like a whip, cold and sharp. He rushed to steady Yvette, shielding her behind him. “What the hell are you doing?!”

My vision blurred with tears. “What am I doing? This was my grandmother’s! You promised me… You promised that if you ever saw it again, you would buy it back for me. You don’t even remember, do you?”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Guilt.

Then it was gone, buried under ice.

“That was years ago,” he said flatly. “How could you expect me to remember something like that? And Yvette didn’t drop it on purpose. How could you just shove her like that?”

Yvette clung to his sleeve, her eyes shimmering with tears that seemed rehearsed. “It’s my fault… I was careless.”

He turned to her, “It’s not your fault. Don’t cry.” He reached up, brushing her tears away with the gentleness he once reserved for me.

Then his gaze cut back to me, cold and unforgiving. “I’ll have it repaired. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

With that, he led her away, her hand in his, the broken comb still clutched in his other palm. He didn’t spare me a single glance.

---

Outside, rain began to fall. The sound bled through the walls, steady and merciless, washing over me like a reminder.

In my past life, this moment destroyed me.

But now, nothing.

I stood at the entrance, watching as Austin’s black Maybach pulled away with Yvette in the front seat.

The venue was far from the city. No taxis came. I waited half an hour before giving up and walking through the rain.

By the time I got home, my feet were screaming. When I peeled off my heels, the blisters had already burst, sticking to my stockings. Pain shot up my legs and dragged a hiss from my lips.

I collapsed onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, empty and numb.

And then I remembered.

That winter years ago, he carried me three kilometers through the rain to get me to the hospital. He had no money for a taxi, but he would not let me take a single step.

“Dahlia, hold on a little longer, we’re almost there,” he had said.

His back had been so warm that the rain felt sweet against my skin.

Now? He had a car worth hundreds of millions, yet couldn’t wait five minutes for me.

After cleaning my wounds, I buried myself in bed. Sleep was safer than thinking, because if I thought for even a second, grief would crush me.

No one knew the truth. I never wanted the heir of the Livingston family. I only wanted the man who once whispered my name in a tiny apartment, holding me close with nothing but love.

But that man disappeared the day Austin regained his memory.

Tears slipped free as I closed my eyes.

---

The next day, the sound of the bedroom door opening jolted me awake.

Austin stood there, perfect as ever in his suit. “There’s a family banquet tonight. You’re coming with me.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want him to notice I was preparing to leave. After a pause, I nodded.

Pain flared in my ankle with every step as I dressed.

Half an hour later, we arrived at the Livingston villa, its windows glowing with light.

The moment we stepped in, I saw Yvette on the sofa. She was dressed in Chanel, chatting warmly with Austin's Grandma, Mrs. Livingston. Mr. Livingston sat nearby, smiling proudly, as though looking at the family he wished he had.

“Austin is here!” Mrs. Livingston rose quickly, her face lighting up. She went straight to her grandson and took his arm. She didn’t even glance my way. “Yvette has been waiting for you.”

Austin’s eyes flicked toward me, as if expecting to catch pain on my face, or at least a crack in my mask. But I had nothing left to show him. My face stayed calm, as though none of it mattered.

Yvette turned her head with a look of surprise that I knew was fake. “Miss Calloway is here too? Please, sit. Don’t be shy.”

Only then did Mrs. Livingston spared me a glance. “Since you’re here, behave yourself! Do not embarrass my family.”

I said nothing.

At dinner, Mrs. Livingston and Yvette laughed together, trading stories about the social circle. Mr. Livingston and Austin discussed business.

Not a single word was spoken to me.

I sat quietly, eating my food, pretending to be invisible. Still, I couldn’t block out Mrs. Livingston’s barbs drifting across the table.

“Family background really matters.”

“Some girls just don’t know their place.”

“Yvette and Austin grew up together. They suit each other perfectly.”

I had heard it all before.

At the beginning, Austin would snap at her, telling her to stop. Later, he only frowned and said, “Enough, Grandma.”

Now? He didn’t even frown.

I sipped my soup, letting the warmth slide down my throat, though my chest stayed cold.

After dinner, Austin drove us back. Naturally, Yvette claimed the passenger seat, leaving me in the back like extra baggage.

The music playing was Yvette’s favorite. She and Austin chatted casually, laughing sometimes, their voices blending with the melody.

I leaned against the window, staring at the neon lights blurred by rain. Another winter came back to me. Austin, on a second-hand bicycle, pedaling through the freezing night. My arms around his waist, my frozen hands stuffed inside his coat pocket.

“Dahlia, when I have money, I’ll buy a good car. You’ll never be cold again,” he had promised.

Now he had money. But the passenger seat wasn’t mine.

The blare of a horn snapped me out of my thoughts. Headlights cut across the road. A truck swerved toward us.

CRASH!

In that split second, I saw Austin move. Not toward me. Toward Yvette. He threw his body across hers, shielding her from the impact.

I was flung forward, my forehead slamming into the windshield. Warm blood trickled down, blurring my vision.

In my past life, I had survived this.

But survival was the cruelest part, because even on the edge of life and death, Austin’s choice was clear.

He didn’t choose me.

And I heard it then. The sound of my heart breaking for the last time.