Fireworks Fade, Lovers Depart

During her university years, to fill the financial void left by her father—who had embezzled company funds and vanished—Carolyn accepted the arrangement Peter proposed. It bound her to him in exchange for security.

Rumour had it Peter had no interest in women.

Yet Carolyn became the first to appear publicly at his side.

He was good to her. So good that, for the first time, she felt the warmth of a passionate romance.

Once, she sighed over a rare, out-of-print poetry anthology, lamenting she’d missed the chance to own a signed copy. On her birthday, Peter flew in just to celebrate with her—and inside the cover of the latest novel she adored, he had inscribed a poem dedicated to her.

When an unexpected allergic shock sent her to the hospital, he halted the company’s year-end review to stay by her side, caring for her through the night.

The day she was accepted into her master’s program, she received the deed to a sprawling themed estate. At dawn, with dew still fresh on the grass, he carried her up the spiral staircase. The usually inarticulate man stumbled through several revised drafts of a love letter, reciting it to her step by step.

She believed it was all real.

Until tonight. Peter returned from abroad. Following the routine of their arrangement, she went to the bedroom—only to be handed a Termination Agreement.

Carolyn stood frozen, her hands trembling so badly it took her a long moment to open the document.

“Peter, come help me with this necklace! I can’t get it off!”

A sweet, girlish voice rang out. Without knocking, a woman breezed into his room.

She paused upon seeing Carolyn, then smiled and extended a hand. “You must be… Carolyn, right?”

“Hello, I’m Amanda. I’m Peter’s~ closest person.”

She carried herself with all the poise of the lady of the house.

Clutching the agreement, Carolyn’s face turned ashen.

She studied business. In that world, Peter was a legend—and the latest twist in his story was the rumour of a fiancée.

It seemed, now, that must be Amanda.

She looked down at the stark white paper in her hands, and everything clicked.

No wonder he needed to dispose of the old mistress.

To avoid dirtying his fiancée’s eyes.

Carolyn glanced at Peter from the corner of her eye. His expression was calm, his gaze fixed on Amanda with helpless affection and indulgence.

Stiff as a board, she watched as Peter chided Amanda softly, teasing that she was the clumsy one trying to blame him.

Amanda stuck out her tongue, basking in the intimacy, and snuggled into his arms.

“Hey, you’re wrinkling my tie.”

Carolyn instinctively took a step forward—only to see Amanda twist around and deftly reach up to remove it for him.

That used to be *her* duty.

Her eyes went empty as she watched Peter bend slightly to make it easier for Amanda.

A knife twisted in her heart. Tears she hadn’t even felt coming streamed down her face, dampening the crumpled agreement in her hand.

“I’ll go find a pen.”

She wiped her face roughly and hurried out.

By the time Peter looked up, all he saw was the door swinging gently shut.

“Oh no! Did your… did *Carolyn* misunderstand something?” Amanda covered the triumph in her eyes, feigning panic. “It’s my fault! Ever since Mom and Dad adopted me as a child, I’ve been so used to being close to you, I forgot you have a… you have her now! You’re planning to propose to her in ten days, aren’t you? I’ll go explain right away.”

Amanda left and soon spotted Carolyn, curled up and sobbing on the staircase landing.

She stopped in front of her, stiletto heels clicking. “Why is Miss Carolyn crying so pitifully?”

Bending down, she snatched the Termination Agreement from Carolyn’s grasp, pretending surprise. “Oh! So you’re being thrown out!”

Carolyn looked up as Amanda contemptuously tossed the papers back into her face.

“You know,” Amanda said, her voice sugary, “Peter specially bought a manor for us. It’s going to be our wedding home.”

She unlocked her phone. The wallpaper showed her and Peter. He was looking down, gently adjusting her veil—a tenderness that stabbed at Carolyn’s eyes.

“The wedding is in ten days. Would you like to come and watch?”

Carolyn staggered, bracing herself against the wall. On that manor’s spiral staircase, Peter had once carried her, reciting love poems as the morning dew soaked the shoulders of his suit.

Amanda crouched down, her perfume invading Carolyn’s senses. Leaning close, she whispered with a light laugh, “Some people, even from a top-tier MBA program, are still just birds in a gilded cage. Can’t you take a hint and just… disappear?”

Carolyn shoved past her and rushed back to her room.

From the balcony, she looked toward the master bedroom. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a warm glow spilled out.

Inside, Peter was ruffling Amanda’s hair, his fingers brushing through her strands with a gentleness that mirrored how he’d once tucked the blankets around a feverish Carolyn.

Watching them, she broke down into heaving sobs.

She pressed the pen tip into the last page of the agreement and signed her name, stroke by deliberate stroke.

Then, she dialed the Research Institute.

“The experimental brain cancer drug has a 67% mortality rate. Miss Carolyn, are you certain you wish to participate?”

Outside, lightning split the night sky. Carolyn looked at her own reflection in the glass—eyes swollen and red. She exhaled a heavy breath.

“I’ll come sign the consent form tomorrow.”