Replaced? No, I Moved On

Seeing this side of Barry—so unfamiliar, so cold—I suddenly thought back to three years ago.

The first time we met, he was all nerves, blushing as he tugged at his shirt. "Hey, can I add you?"

Our friends egged him on. My face burned too.

Under Barry's relentless pursuit, I fell for that sweet, awkward boy.

His family didn't have much, and my parents weren't thrilled. When Barry found out, he didn't get mad. He just held my hands, gentle as ever. "Mr. and Mrs. Abel just want the best for you. They're looking out for you. And honestly? I can't give you much right now."

So he tried harder. Treated me like I was everything. Rain or shine, he brought me breakfast. Worked multiple jobs just to buy me handbags and jewelry.

One night, we were walking past a dimly lit alley when a group of drunk thugs spotted me. Their eyes lit up.

Barry's grip on me tightened. He tried to steer us away, but they blocked our path.

One sneered. "They say couples stick together through thick and thin, but when things go south? People only look out for themselves. Relax, I just wanna chat with the lady."

Barry didn't flinch. Didn't let go.

He shoved me behind him, taking their punches and kicks.

I sobbed, begging him to run.

But he just looked at me, eyes steady. "I won't let go of you..."

By the time the cops showed up, Barry was already unconscious—still holding onto me.

After that, my parents finally accepted him.

Barry was always good to me. But his eyes? They were never clouded. Never lost in the moment.

Even in our most intimate moments, there was this eerie calmness.

He'd gently push me away. "Amelia, let's wait until we're married. There's no rush."

Back then, I thought he was just disciplined. A gentleman with principles.

But then I overheard him talking to his friend about Lyla. I saw the way his eyes softened—how real love looked on him.

His friend asked him something, and Barry's voice, laced with quiet disdain, cut through the air.

"I never touched Amelia. In this life, I've only ever had one woman—Lyla.

"Amelia looks a lot like Lyla. I made her grow her hair out, dress like her... But no matter how much she resembles Lyla, I had to stay faithful to the real one."

Lyla, with her long, dark hair and flowy white dresses.

No wonder Barry only ever bought me light-colored gowns.

No wonder, whenever he tucked my hair behind my ear, his eyes were full of regret. Not love.

And just like that, I finally got it.

Barry never loved me. He just loved that I reminded him of her.