Sorry, I’m Done. You Broke Me.

By the time I reached the stairs, a single tear slipped down before I could stop it. I remembered his friend, years ago, who had tried the same trick, painting me as cruel. Wilmer had not hesitated then. He had defended me, even pulled out the security footage just so his family would never misunderstand me. Back then, I thought he would always stand by me. Now he did not even ask. He just believed her.

I dug my nails into my palm, anything to stop the tears. I wanted to leave right then, to walk out and never look back. But Wilmer’s mother kept asking me to stay, her soft voice pleading. She had been good to me since I was a child. After my parents died, she treated me like her own. How could I turn my back on her now?

So I slipped away from the crowd, searching for a quiet place to sit, to hide. Somewhere I could breathe before I broke completely.

After the broken engagement came out, I could tell Mrs. Preston was terrified that Wilmer would just go running back to Madonna. She didn’t want that door to close forever between me and him, so she kept pulling Wilmer to stay by my side during every part of the banquet. Which left Madonna stranded, sulking in the corner.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as some drunk rich boy stumbled up to her, insisting on making friends. He wouldn’t leave her alone, and the crowd around them just pretended not to see. They had all witnessed what happened earlier, and not one person was willing to step in. Madonna’s eyes got red, her lip trembling like she might cry.

Then suddenly, Wilmer appeared out of nowhere and landed a hard punch straight into the boy’s face. The guy staggered back, clutching his jaw.

“Wilmer! You wouldn’t let me touch Lucille, and now you won’t let me touch her either?” he shouted. “Lucille is your fiancée, but who the hell is this one to you?”

Wilmer just stared at him for two long seconds, then let his gaze slide, quick, in my direction. His jaw clenched.

“SHE’S MINE.”

The room went still. My chest tightened.

And then like some cruel twist I watched him pull Madonna into his arms and crush his mouth against hers in front of everyone. The kiss was rough, loud, and when he pulled back, she clung to him like she would collapse without him.

“If anyone dares to bully Madonna again,” Wilmer declared, “I will never let them go.”

I felt the room shift. People who just hours ago had defended me now rushed to stand at his side, surrounding Madonna like she was a queen. My stomach twisted so painfully I thought I might be sick. I couldn’t breathe anymore.

I ran to the bathroom, shut myself inside, and covered my mouth to hold back the sobs, but the tears still fell heavy and fast. I cried until my chest ached.

Finally, I sent Mrs. Preston a text, apologizing. I told her I wasn’t feeling well and would come back another day to chat. Then I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

I barely made it two steps before someone yanked my wrist.

It was Felix, the same drunk Wilmer had punched earlier. His lips curled into a wicked grin as his eyes raked over me.

“Actually,” his voice low and taunting, “compared to that Madonna, I’ve always liked you more. I only stayed away because Wilmer guarded you like his precious treasure. But now he’s protecting someone else. If you’re willing, I’ll take you in.”

My skin crawled. I pulled my wrist back hard. “I don’t want to. And this is the Preston manor. I’d advise you not to be reckless here.”

His eyes darkened. The punch Wilmer had given him earlier must have been burning in his head. He lunged, shoving me back toward the bathroom wall, and then his mouth crashed against mine.

I struggled desperately, my hands shaking as I reached for the emergency button on the wall. Somehow, I hit it.

The phone connected almost instantly.

“Wilmer! Felix won’t leave me alone, come quickly—”

But all I heard was a sneer on the other end.

“Maddy was harassed by him, and now you too? Lucy, since when did you start playing tricks like this?”

My breath caught. “I didn’t! He really is—”

The line cut off.

I froze, ice sinking into my veins. Wilmer hung up on me.

Felix’s hands tightened, dragging me toward the bathroom. Panic roared in my ears. I grabbed the nearest decoration hanging on the wall and smashed it against him with all my strength.

He shouted in pain and loosened his grip. I bolted, stumbling into the bathroom, slamming the door, and locking it with trembling hands. My whole body shook as I called Mrs. Preston and begged her to send someone.

She arrived fast. She ordered servants to drag Felix out while he cursed and kicked. The sound of his rage faded, and I collapsed against the door, drained.

Mrs. Preston didn’t scold me. She didn’t even ask. She just told the servants to take me upstairs to change. And When the banquet ended, she insisted on sending me home herself.

At the car, she reached out, fixing my hair the way my mother used to. “Before you go to Europe , come visit me more often,” she whispered. Her eyes were wet, but all she let out was a soft sigh. “I’ll send your token later.”

I nodded, thanked her with all the strength I had left, and slid into the car.

We were still a ways from my apartment when the driver’s phone rang. I didn’t mean to listen, but Wilmer’s voice carried through the speaker, sharp and urgent.

“Turn back immediately! Madonna has a stomachache. She needs to go to the hospital now.”

I turned my face toward the window, silent. It was always her. Always.