My Love Buried Me, My Return Will Bury You

“I’m getting ready to leave,” I replied in a low voice.

He closed the distance between us, and his cologne washed over me. My stomach clenched — it was the exact same scent that had clung to Bianca earlier that day.

Suddenly his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

“So this is what this is about?” he snapped. “You’re running away just because I had lunch with Bianca? You were the one who hurt her, and she didn’t even complain. Yet here you are, throwing a tantrum?”

I met his gaze. His eyes weren’t icy or gentle — they were full of impatience, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Our families have been close for generations,” he continued. “Her parents asked me to look after her now that she’s back in the country. Can you not try, just once, to be a little more reasonable?”

Reasonable.

The word stabbed straight through me. As if I hadn’t already sacrificed everything for him. As if I hadn’t already given my life once because of him.

How much more did he think I owed him?

“Answer me!” he demanded.

I said nothing. Silence was the only armor I still had.

His grip tightened for a moment before he let go, fury darkening his features.

“Fine. Be stubborn. Let’s see how long you last. You have nowhere to go. I practically own half of New York.”

The door slammed so violently the walls shook.

I stared at the half-packed suitcase. In my past life, I would have collapsed in tears, chased after him, begged him to choose me. But this time, I pressed my lips together and kept folding my clothes.

---

The following morning, I stepped into the living room — and froze.

Bianca was lounging on the sofa, chatting sweetly with Mrs. Edith Sterling like she had always belonged there. She was dressed in white, glowing, every inch the future lady of this house.

When she noticed me, her smile widened.

“Good morning, Miss Monroe. My parents insisted Sebastian take me to today’s auction. Please don’t misunderstand.”

I glanced toward Sebastian. He was adjusting his cufflinks, his face unreadable. He never even spared me a look.

“There’s nothing to misunderstand,” I replied calmly. “What you choose to do has nothing to do with me.”

For the briefest moment, his fingers paused, but he said nothing.

Bianca let out a light laugh. “Why don’t you come too? You don’t seem busy.”

Before I could decline, she slipped her arm through mine and tugged me forward, her nails pressing faintly into my skin — a quiet reminder of where I stood.

---

The auction hall sparkled like royalty’s playground. Everywhere I looked were expensive suits, glittering jewels, people who lived in Sebastian’s world.

He sat in the front row, bidding without hesitation. Every item he won was passed directly into Bianca’s hands, and each time she leaned in close to whisper something into his ear, smiling like a bride.

They looked inseparable.

I sat off to the side, unseen, like I didn’t belong.

At one point, Bianca spoke sweetly, loud enough for me to hear.

“Sebastian, why don’t you get something for Miss Monroe too?”

He didn’t even turn his head.

“She wouldn’t know what to do with any of it.”

The words landed like a slap.

Bianca glanced at me with thinly veiled triumph, as though she had just won without lifting a finger.

My hand rested on the glossy auction catalogue. He was wrong — it wasn’t that I didn’t understand these things. It was that in his eyes, I wasn’t worthy of them.

To him, I would always be the girl from nowhere. Someone easily erased.

Then the final item was unveiled.

An ivory comb, delicately carved, gemstones gleaming along its spine.

My breath caught, my grip tightening on the bidding paddle.

It was my grandmother’s.

Three years ago, Sebastian had been working himself to the bone to save for my birthday when he was hit by a car. The hospital bills were crushing. I sold that comb — the last keepsake from my grandmother — to save his life. I swore I would buy it back one day.

But it vanished.

I searched antique shops, begged collectors, chased rumors for years — nothing.

Until now.

Without thinking, I raised my paddle.

“One million.”

The room stirred. Bianca turned, surprise flashing briefly across her face before she lifted her own paddle.

“Three million.”

“Four million.”

“Ten million,” she replied easily, her voice almost playful.

The numbers climbed like blades. I didn’t care how deep I cut myself — I would not lose it again.

Sebastian finally raised his paddle.

The hammer fell.

“Sold, to Mr. Sterling!”

Applause echoed hollowly.

Then he turned — not to me, but to her.

“Do you like it? It’s yours.”

The paddle slipped from my numb fingers and clattered to the floor.

I watched as the comb — my grandmother’s last gift — was placed into Bianca’s hands. She cradled it, then suddenly gasped.

“Oh no!”

It fell.

I rushed forward, but the sound came first — a clean, cruel snap as it shattered in two, gems scattering across the marble like fallen stars.

My body moved before my mind could. I shoved her aside and dropped to the floor, gathering the broken pieces with shaking hands.

“Aurelia!”