My hand for her dream.

6

The house felt too quiet after he left, but I did not sit there staring at the door like I used to.

I stood up slowly, my hand still resting against my side, then walked to the table and looked at what I had prepared, and this time I did not wait, I just sat down and ate.

The food was still warm, and for the first time in a long while, I was eating food I could actually taste, something I had chosen for myself instead of something placed in front of me without thought, though Adrian would not have noticed anyway, because he never did, not when it came to me.

I finished everything quietly, then cleared the table immediately, my movements steady and controlled, my injured hand aching with every small action but still responding, and by the time I was done, there was nothing left of that dinner, no trace that it had ever been meant for two people.

My phone buzzed softly against the table, and when I picked it up, a notification from social media lit up the screen.

I should have ignored it, but I didn’t, and my fingers moved before I could stop them.

Selene and Adrian were together, smiling and standing too close, her head resting lightly against his shoulder while his arm wrapped around her waist, his expression soft in a way I had never seen directed at me, and the caption said that some people deserve to be chosen, making it clear that this was not just a picture but a message, deliberate and meant to mock me.

My stomach turned slowly as I stared at it, my fingers tightening around the phone before I locked the screen and placed it back down.

He had always been like this, absent and careless, but only with me.

A memory surfaced quietly, my final exam day in medical school, when I had waited outside the hall for hours because he had promised he would come, because he had said it mattered and that I mattered, and I stayed there until the sun went down before realizing he was not coming, only to later hear that he had forgotten and had been with Selene instead.

I had smiled then and told him it was fine.

I had always told him it was fine.

Now I understood what that meant.

I picked up my phone again and made a decision.

—

“Can we move the engagement forward?” I asked softly, my voice steady even though my fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

Mitchell did not sound surprised. “How soon do you want it?”

“Today,” I replied after a brief pause.

There was a moment of silence, then his voice returned calm and certain. “I’ll take care of it, you don’t need to worry about anything.”

I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding. “Thank you, Mitchell,” I said quietly, and this time the words felt real.

“You don’t have to thank me, Evelyn,” he replied, his tone softer, “just focus on what you need, I’ll handle the rest.”

I swallowed before adding, “There is something else I want to ask you.”

“Tell me.”

“Adrian planned our engagement tonight,” I said, my voice steady, “I want ours to be in the same hotel.”

There was no hesitation. “Alright, I’ll arrange that as well.”

My grip on the phone tightened slightly. “And Mitchell… I need your help with something important.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want evidence,” I said quietly, “about what Adrian did to my hand.”

His tone shifted, still calm but more serious. “I’ve already started looking into it, you’ll have everything you need.”

The tension inside me eased slightly. “And the specialist?”

“He’s ready whenever you are,” Mitchell replied, steady and reassuring, “we’ll begin your treatment before the wedding, and I’ll call you as soon as everything is set.”

I closed my eyes briefly. “Thank you… really.”

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, “and Evelyn… you’re not alone in this.”

The call ended.

—

The dress arrived not long after, along with the jewelry, and when I saw them, I paused because they were nothing like what I expected, the fabric smooth and rich, the cut elegant, every detail carefully chosen, while the jewelry shimmered under the light with a quiet brilliance that felt refined rather than excessive.

It was beautiful, not loud, not overwhelming, just right.

I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers brushing lightly over the fabric as I took in my reflection, and for a moment I barely recognized the woman looking back at me.

Mitchell was waiting when I stepped out, his gaze settling on me without lingering too long, just enough to take in what he needed.

“You look…” he paused slightly, then nodded, “you look right.”

A small breath left me. “Thank you,” I said softly, and this time there was warmth in it.

His attention shifted to my hand. “Is it hurting?”

“A little,” I admitted.

“We’ll fix it,” he said simply, his tone steady and certain.

I nodded slowly. “I trust you.”

He did not respond immediately, but something in his expression softened. “We’ll get it done.”

The engagement was quiet and controlled, with only a few people present, no noise, no unnecessary attention, just signatures, a ring, and a decision that felt final.

When it was done, I looked down at my hand, the ring sitting there, simple, perfect, mine.

Mitchell noticed. “If anything feels too fast, you can tell me, we don’t have to rush anything beyond what you’re ready for.”

I shook my head slightly. “No, this is… good,” I said, and I meant it.

He gave a small nod. “Alright.”

I hesitated before speaking again. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“When we get there, can we keep this between us for now?” I said quietly.

He understood immediately. “You want to control when they find out.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he replied without question, “I’ll follow your lead.”

—

The hall was already full when we arrived, the lights bright, voices blending together, familiar faces turning as I stepped in.

Adrian was there.

So were his parents.

Selene stood beside him.

All of them.

Waiting.

Adrian turned the moment he saw me, relief flashing briefly before irritation settled in its place. “You’re late,” he said.

His mother’s gaze followed immediately. “Keeping people waiting is not a good habit,” she added coolly.

Selene’s eyes moved over me slowly, then shifted past me to Mitchell, and there was a pause as recognition flickered across her face, quickly followed by interest.

Adrian noticed, his gaze tracking hers before landing on Mitchell, and the air changed instantly, turning heavy and sharp as his expression hardened and something cold settled into his eyes.

“Mitchell,” he said slowly.

The name carried history, childhood, rivalry, and they had never gotten along, not then, not now.

“What are you doing here?” Adrian asked, his tone no longer polite.

Mitchell did not react, standing beside me calm and composed. “I was invited.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting between us before settling on me, anger and possession oozing.

“Why are you with him?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

I met his gaze, and for the first time, I did not feel the need to explain anything.

Before I could answer, his eyes dropped.

To my hand.

To the ring.

Everything stilled and his expression changed instantly.

“What is that?” he asked, his voice tightening, his eyes fixed on my finger.

“Where did that ring come from?”