Love Like an Abyss

She pouted, her lips trembling slightly as she looked at Brian with feigned innocence. Brian gave me a doting smile, but his hand moved behind his back to reassure her. I watched their interaction in silence, a cold laugh echoing in my mind. Did he not realize how obvious he was?

Brian gently reached for my hand, his tone laced with that all-too-familiar coaxing. “Come on, honey. It’s just a seat. Let her have it. After all, she’s your cousin. Switch with her, okay?”

His voice was laced with tenderness, his eyes filled with an affection that seemed reserved for me. Yet his words defended another woman.

I gave him a faint smile, lifting my gown as I walked toward the car in the back. “Fine,” I said coolly. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to endure the sight of him pretending anymore.

The banquet hall buzzed with conversation as people milled about in their finest attire. Laurel was already holding a glass of red wine, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she approached me.

“Oh, Angie,” she said with a mocking lilt, “how could you be so sloppy? Look at your dress. It’s all wrinkled. Couldn’t you have at least ironed it before wearing it?”

I ignored her, turning toward the dessert table to pick out a small cupcake. I hadn’t had breakfast and my stomach was growling. At this point, satisfying my hunger was far more important than engaging with her nonsense.

But Laurel wasn’t done. She followed me, “Do you think I’m just going to steal your man?” Her tone dripped with smug satisfaction.

I took a bite of the cupcake, glancing at her with mild curiosity. Her lips curled into a sly smile. “Stay and watch. It’s just the beginning.”

The host took the stage moments later, announcing the award for Outstanding Performance. Laurel’s name was called. Laurel stood gracefully on stage, her lively demeanor engaging Brian with a knowing look.

The eyes of everyone in the room shifted between the three of us. I could feel pity as their gaze landed on me.

On the screen, Laurel’s track record began to roll through, showcasing her accomplishments.

A client named Mr. Kumar, whose asset management returns had exceeded 20%, was hailed as a miracle in the industry.

The crowd gasped in admiration.

“She is so amazing!”

“The last person to be this impressive was Mr. Rocha’s fiancée, the legendary Miss Duncan!”

“You call that legend? Her best was only 15%, while Laurel’s hit 20%. Now, that’s a legend.”

She may have stolen my man, but I didn’t care. Because any man who could be stolen wasn’t worth having! But stealing the achievements I’d worked so hard for? That, I couldn’t tolerate.

Anger surged through me as I stormed up to the stage, grabbing the microphone from the startled host.

“Breaking industry records with a 20% return rate? I’m sure the audience would love to hear how you did it, Laurel,” I said, my voice steady but icy.

Laurel froze, caught off guard by my direct challenge. “I… uh… well…” she stammered, her eyes darting toward Brian for help.

He quickly stepped in, his tone firm but measured. “That’s confidential. We’re not at liberty to disclose it to public.”

I let out a dry laugh, unfazed by his attempt to deflect. “Confidential? Then let me ask you this, Laurel. Do you know what industries Mr. Kumar’s assets are tied to? Do you know his full name? How he built his wealth?”

The rapid-fire questions left her visibly rattled, her confident facade crumbling as she struggled to form a coherent response.

“Y-you…,” she stuttered, her voice trembling, “are you accusing me?”

Before I could respond, she suddenly swayed, collapsing toward me with an exaggerated cry. We tumbled to the ground, a chaotic mess of tangled limbs and fabric. Laurel clutched her ankle, her face contorted in pain.

“Why did you push me, Angie?” she wailed, her voice carrying through the hall. “My ankle… it hurts so much!”

The microphone, now lying at her feet, amplified her words, ensuring everyone heard her accusation loud and clear.

Disdainful murmurs rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned on me. I met their judgmental stares head-on, refusing to flinch.

Brian rushed to the stage, his face a mask of concern. But before he could reach us, the platform beneath us groaned ominously. A second later, it gave way.

Laurel screamed, clutching at the nearest steel beam as debris rained down around us.

“Brian! Save me!” she shrieked, her voice shrill with terror.

Amid the chaos, I glanced at my wrist, now bleeding from a deep gash where a sharp edge had sliced through my skin.

Blood was everywhere.

I’ve been terrified of blood since I was a child and the sight of it now made me freeze in panic. My instinct was to run, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.

Brian pushed aside a steel beam and crawled toward us. Relief surged through me and I instinctively called out to him for help.

“Brian, I’m here! Help me!”

His focus, however, was entirely on Laurel. He hurriedly picked her up, sparing me only a brief glance.

“If you hadn’t caused a scene, Laurel wouldn’t have been trapped. And now you’re asking me for help? Shame on you!” he snapped.

The pretense was gone; he didn’t even bother to hide his disdain for me in this life-and-death moment.

Trembling, I held up my bleeding hand. “Brian, my hand is bleeding. If I don’t get to a hospital soon, I might die. Please, take me first to the hospital.”

For a fleeting moment, hesitation crossed his face. But then Laurel clung to his shirt, her voice weak.

“Brian, it hurts…”

He immediately shifted his attention back to her, his expression filled with panic. “I know, I’m sorry. But it’s going to be okay. We’ll get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay.” 

Brian turned and started walking away with her in his arms.

Fear overtook me as I stumbled after him, tears streaming down my face. “Brian, please! I’m scared. Take me to the hospital!”

He didn’t even look back, his pace quickening as he carried Laurel to safety. She glanced over his shoulder, meeting my desperate gaze with a cruel smirk. Though she didn’t speak, her lips silently formed the words: “Left again. Poor, Angie.”  

Their figures disappeared into the distance, leaving me behind. 

I collapsed onto the ground, my body weak and trembling. Being abandoned wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t abandon myself. Summoning all my strength, I pushed the heavy steel beam off me, ignoring the searing pain in my injured hand. After what felt like an eternity, I managed to free myself.

I made it to the hospital on my own. What should have been a simple five-stitch wound turned into an eighteen-stitch ordeal because the flesh had been torn further when I moved the beam. As I sat in the sterile hospital room, anger and resolve swirled within me.

On the way to the airport, I hired a private investigator at an exorbitant cost. I instructed them to prepare a fake corpse and erase every trace of my existence. I wanted to disappear from Brian’s world entirely.

As the airport speakers announced the final boarding call for the flight to Dubai, I stood at the gate with my suitcase. Taking one last look at the city I once called home, I whispered, “Goodbye, Brian.”