When His Love Changed,He Finally Regretted It

"Are you even aware of how ridiculous you look? The way you eat, all dramatic—can you cut it out? You're seriously making me nauseous."

Ashley’s expression darkened. She turned to Liliana, her gaze sharp and unforgiving.

"You should be grateful you’re dealing with the current version of me—I used to have a much worse temper."

"And what exactly are you so smug about, Liliana? You just got lucky. Luck doesn’t give you the right to stand on some moral high ground and judge me."

Ashley let out a cold laugh. Luck? No—Liliana simply never had to experience the spiral from a normal relationship into a tangled mess of ethics and betrayal.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Liliana’s anger flared.

Ashley wasn’t even ashamed—if anything, she seemed almost amused.

"I mean, someone like you—a no-name degree, an average family with no resources. Your résumé should’ve been tossed out in the first round."

"But Max took a liking to you, so people made exceptions for him. Be real—by any standard, you don’t even make the cut. I honestly have no idea what he sees in you."

The words were casual, almost offhanded, but they sent a chill down Liliana’s spine.

Ashley's gaze was ice-cold. With just a few words, she had completely stripped Liliana of any sense of worth.

Liliana couldn't understand—she was supposed to have the upper hand. She was the one on the moral high ground. So why did it feel like she was being utterly crushed by the woman in front of her?

Ashley stepped closer, her shadow stretching over Liliana like a suffocating weight. The sheer pressure made her feel as if she were being hunted, trapped with no way out.

She wanted to step back, to run—but her legs refused to move. Fear gripped her so tightly that they buckled beneath her and she collapsed onto her knees.

The wine glass slipped from her hand, crashing against the floor. The sharp crack of shattering glass cut through the tense silence.

Hearing the commotion, Max rushed over. The moment he saw Liliana on the ground, his expression darkened. Without hesitation, he strode toward her. As he passed Ashley, he slammed his shoulder into hers with enough force to knock her back.

She staggered, her foot landing squarely on the jagged shards of glass.

"Liana, are you okay?"

His voice was filled with worry as he helped her up. But almost immediately, his concern turned to fury.

"Ashley, Lili came here just to grab some wine. Is this how you treat your guests—cornering them when no one's around?"

Ashley's chest tightened. She glanced down at her foot, where crimson was beginning to seep through the fabric of her slipper.

When she finally lifted her gaze to meet Max’s, there was something almost imperceptible in her expression—disappointment.

"Is that really how you see me?" Ashley's voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it. "Liliana, why don’t you tell Max what you just said? I’m sure he’d love to hear it."

Liliana’s eyes flickered toward the security camera in the corner. Her breath hitched. Then, almost frantically, she shook her head.

"No—Maxie, I fell on my own. It had nothing to do with Ash. We were just… talking."

She forced a smile, but the way her lips trembled and the tears welling in her eyes only made her lie more obvious. Max's chest tightened at the sight. Gently, he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the wine stains on her dress, his touch careful, protective.

Then, he turned to Ashley with a cold, cutting glare—only to falter.

Her face was deathly pale. His gaze dropped to the floor and his stomach tensed when he saw the slow spread of crimson pooling beneath her foot.

"Your foot..."

Instinctively, he moved toward her, but before he could take another step, Liliana clutched his sleeve, her voice trembling.

"Maxie… my leg hurts. I just want to go home. Will you take me?"

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but only for a second. Without another word, he swept Liliana into his arms.

"You’re not going home—I’m taking you to the hospital."

As Max carried her away, Liliana’s lips curved ever so slightly. She turned her head just enough to catch Ashley’s eye, her expression soft—but her gaze victorious.

After they left, Ashley remained where she was, staring at the mix of blood and wine seeping into the floor. A dull ache tightened in her chest and for some reason, her nose stung, as if she were on the verge of tears.

She glanced at her reflection in the glass wall and let out a quiet, mocking laugh.

What were you expecting?

When it came to choosing between her and Liliana, Max hadn’t even hesitated.

A man’s love—or lack of it—was always painfully obvious.

The pain in her foot grew sharper, pulsing with every beat of her heart. With the housekeeper’s help, she made her way upstairs, unsteady but composed. She refused to go to the hospital—she simply cleaned the wound, applied some ointment and wrapped it up. The bleeding stopped, but the dull sting lingered.

That night, sleep was impossible. No matter how she turned, the discomfort kept her awake. Frustrated, she reached for a book from the shelf, hoping for a distraction.

As she flipped it open, something slipped out from between the pages—a faded brown envelope. She was about to toss it aside when a cream-colored wedding invitation slid to the floor.

Her fingers trembled as she picked it up and unfolded it.

‘Groom: Max Laguna | Bride: Ashley Vera’.

The elegant calligraphy seemed to mock her. She ran her fingers over the embossed gold lettering and a deep, aching pressure settled in her chest.

Eighteen. The age of reckless, all-consuming love.

At eighteen, marrying Max had been Ashley’s dream. She had spent years watching invitation after invitation being sent out for grand weddings at the backyard of the Laguna Family Estate. Sometimes, she had even let herself imagine—what kind of invitation would she send when it was finally her turn?

Max had guessed what she wanted, so he secretly bought the wedding invitation and carefully wrote their names on it.

When she saw it, her heart melted. She reached for it, but Max teasingly held it just out of reach, lifting his arm to keep it away from her.

"If you can grab it, we’ll get married."

He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, his ears turning red as he smiled—youthful, earnest and full of promise.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he hid it away. She never saw the invitation again.

"So this is where it’s been all along..."

The wedding invitation still looked as pristine as the day he had bought it. But now, holding it again, she felt nothing but a hollow ache.

She murmured, "If I had found it sooner… would things have been different?"

The thought barely had time to take root before she shook it off. It was foolish. Pointless.

With a quiet sigh, Ashley hopped on one leg to her desk, picked up a utility knife and carefully sliced through their names.

This was how it should be. Those names never truly belonged on this invitation.

She had just realized it too late.

Knock, knock...

A sudden knock at the door broke the silence. She glanced at her phone—past midnight.

At this hour, there was only one person who would come looking for her.

Max.

Ashley didn’t move. She didn’t want to open the door. But the man outside wasn’t going anywhere.

"Open the door, Ash. I know you’re awake."