Childhood Sweetheart Chose Her in the Fire, I Turned to My Savior

My eyes felt gritty, and I quickly looked down, staring blankly at the black pepper steak in front of me.

I never liked steak.

“Yvaine, don’t you like steak? I’m sorry, I didn’t think about your tastes.” Bryony’s gaze was high and mighty, like a hostess speaking to a guest.

She pushed the mango platter toward me, “This is really delicious.”

It was beautifully arranged, the yellow fruit flesh especially tempting, but…

“Sorry, I... I can’t eat mangoes.”

Caelan pushed the cut steak back toward her, lowering his head and speaking gently, “Eat it while it’s hot, Bryony.”

Bryony eagerly accepted the plate, her face lighting up with happiness.

Caelan turned to me, his brow furrowed deeply, his expression changing quickly, like our high school chemistry teacher, as he urged, “Yvaine, why aren’t you eating?”

I froze, closing my eyes. “Caelan, I’m allergic to mangoes. If I eat them, I’ll die.”

At my words, Caelan straightened his lips, “Sorry…”

Sorry can’t undo the damage.

I felt a pang of sadness.

We’ve grown up together. How could you not know I’m allergic to mangoes? You’ve just focused on other girls, and forgotten everything about me.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were allergic to mangoes,” he stammered, but before he could finish, Bryony looked at me, her eyes misty with fake tears.

Caelan immediately pulled her into his arms, continuously comforting her, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” and then turned to glare at me. “Bryony didn’t mean it, Yvaine, don’t be so petty.”

A cold chill ran through me. I had only spoken one sentence.

But I couldn’t ignore the look of provocation from Bryony and the smug tilt of her lips.

Now I understood. She did it on purpose. She knew about my mango allergy.

I slumped my shoulders, feeling a sudden emptiness. Was this me being pathetic, setting myself up for this?

“I have something to do. I’ll leave first.” I said, and hurriedly walked out of the restaurant.

From far away, I could still hear Caelan’s voice, soothing Bryony in the most gentle way.

But to me, it was nothing but mocking.

After that, Caelan and I never spoke again.

Even when I saw them inseparable on campus, I would rush to avoid them.

What’s sweet to her is poison to me.

In fact, Caelan did try to reach out—Facebook messages, standing downstairs in the dorm building—but I didn’t reply, didn’t even look.

Because I was afraid of seeing the person I liked laughing and talking with another girl, the way he used to with me.

After a while, someone as proud as him lost his patience.

His figure finally disappeared from my life, at least, actively.

But the campus is so small. We would always cross paths again.

Our school was holding a grand celebration for its 80th anniversary. My roommate and I were representing our class in a group dance—a traditional dance.

For this, we dieted, practiced endlessly, and had finally perfected the routine before the event.

But just one hour before the performance, a major accident happened.

I stared at the shredded dance costume in front of me, my hands trembling uncontrollably, tears of panic welling up in my eyes.

My roommate was just as frantic beside me.

“What are we going to do? Yvaine, you’re in the center of the performance!”

“Who did this disgusting thing?”

I had learned to control my temper from Caelan, but this was the first time I’d faced something so vile. I couldn’t contain my emotions.

So, I went to the bathroom to calm down.

But then I overheard an unbelievable conversation.

“Miranda, you shouldn’t do this!”

It was Bryony’s ever-so-gentle voice.