My Boyfriend Saved Her, Leaving Me Behind in Avalanche

"Back when we went hiking, it was you who saved me, but she took the credit and even hurt you. I’ve always known that deep down, she’s still that selfish, calculating person."

Altair cupped Saoirse’s face gently, like a treasure he was afraid to lose, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"And you... you’re my little mermaid."

So, Altair still harbored doubts about me.

Before Saoirse left for abroad, she’d invited both of us on a hiking trip. She insisted on eating some wild fruit, and Altair, ever the protector, climbed a branch to pick it for her. But he lost his grip and fell, falling unconscious.

I scrambled down the cliff to rescue him, tearing my wrist on the sharp rocks. That scar remained, a silent reminder of that day. By the time I returned with the park staff, Saoirse was already there, sitting beside Altair, pretending to be the grieving savior.

When I told Altair I had been the one to save him, he turned distant, showing me the photos Saoirse had sent.

Her wrist, deeply scarred, was worse than mine.

After Saoirse went abroad, I tried to bury the matter, but I never imagined Altair would hold onto it for so long.

"Then why were you still with her?" Saoirse’s voice trembled slightly, a shadow of doubt flickering in her eyes.

Altair, completely oblivious to her unease, paused before answering as if the words weighed heavily on him. "Because I got used to it. And her parents promised me 800,000 dollars as her dowry."

So that was it.

The truth hit me like a slap to the face. I had spent eight years loving a man like this.

How many eight years does a person have in their lifetime?

Saoirse had taken over the master bedroom, draped in my silk pajamas, lounging in the space I had lovingly arranged.

In the dead of night, she began to complain about a fever. Altair scrambled through the house, searching desperately for cold medicine, but it was nowhere to be found. In a panic, he called me.

After a dozen calls went unanswered, Altair's frustration finally boiled over.

"Maliah, if you keep pulling these stunts, I’ll call off our wedding!" His voice was sharp, like a warning he was unwilling to let slide.

He paused after sending the voice message, then seemed to realized I had not been home for four days.

Saoirse whimpered, "I feel awful."

Without missing a beat, Altair draped a coat over her shoulders and whisked her outside as if his every action was meant to erase the tension in the air.

I watched them, the sharp contrast to how he had treated me in the past when I had stomachaches; his indifference had been a bitter pill to swallow. He’d hand me a glass of warm water and say, "You’ve been through worse, Maliah. Surviving in snowy mountains and extreme conditions is nothing. Just tough it out."

It wasn’t until I had collapsed from acute gastroenteritis that he rushed me to the hospital in a panic, guilt clouding his usual cold demeanor.

After a sleepless night, he fired off another message, the words harsh as they pinged through the phone. "Maliah, I’m giving you one hour. If you don’t show up, we’re done."

He turned off his phone with a frustrated snap, the weight of his words hanging between us, and stormed off to the TV station with a dark cloud over his head.

That morning, the broadcast shifted to international news. Altair, a seasoned anchor, delivered the segment with ease. But then the director handed him a new script, one that would shake his world.

"Breaking story: On October 4th, an avalanche struck during a guided tour in the snowy mountains. One team member lost their life. Authorities are investigating. The deceased... Maliah Orlaith."

Altair’s voice wavered as he read, his words faltering as the reality of my name sank in. He froze, his mouth slightly open, his mind unable to process it.

The director quickly switched to another shot, but Altair’s gaze was fixed on the script. His hand trembled as he dialed my number, but there was no answer.

By then, my phone had been buried at the base of the mountain, left there by Ravenna.

When Altair called her, her reply was as cold as the snow that had claimed me. "I told you to come sign for Maliah’s body, but you didn’t believe me. How she died… well, you know the details better than anyone. Our team is still investigating."

Altair’s expression froze for a heartbeat, the weight of the news settling over him like a sudden storm. He shoved past the staff with urgency, his footsteps echoing in the silence as he rushed toward the exit.