Heartstrings and Heartbreaks

Oscar was practically seething with rage. But with so many guests watching, it would be catastrophic to cause a scene. He swallowed it all down, barely.

And right on cue, like a well-rehearsed drama, Diana played her part to perfection. "Maya, don't argue with Oscar anymore, okay? He's really been torn up about all this. While you were gone… he couldn't even sleep some nights because he missed you so much—"

"Enough," Oscar cut in sharply. He reached out to take her hand with a show of sudden tenderness, subtly signaling the emcee to continue the ceremony. "Let's just move on."

Maya, standing a few feet away, saw right through him. She had known Oscar too long, too well—his tells were etched in her memory like lines in stone. He was angry. But unlike the past, she had no energy left to soothe him.

Without another glance, she turned and walked out of the venue.

Back at what used to be their shared residence, Maya sighed. Her father's health had been declining over the past few years, and the household had effectively been taken over by her overly ambitious stepmother. So when she returned to Elminas, she never once considered going back to the Beckham family home.

She had rented a modest place on her own, something quiet and tucked away. But Oscar had insisted—dragged her, really—into staying at his place.

Now, standing amidst half-packed boxes, she began methodically folding her things. The irony wasn't lost on her. Had she known this return would turn into such chaos, she'd have declined Oscar from the start. It had been over a month since she moved in, and she had made this place feel like a home.

It took her a full three hours to sort everything out before moving out.

By the time she lay down on the bed in her new apartment, her body was aching and her mind was drained. Sleep swallowed her whole almost instantly.

In her dreams, she was back in university again.

She remembered those days so clearly—the thrill of youth, the giddy rush of love. They had gone to different universities, but every weekend, Oscar would take the metro all the way to see her, no matter how far. By graduation, the stack of tickets he had collected could rival the thickness of a novel.

She used to crave the sound of his voice teasing her, lifting her out of her studies or her melancholy. Later, when she was ill and alone overseas, it was these memories that kept her afloat. They were her anchor in the storm.

Eventually, she'd met someone new—Charles Barrett. A chance encounter turned ally, turned perhaps something more. With his connections and quiet influence, he helped her find treatment and recover.

And yet… every day, her thoughts drifted back to Oscar.

Charles had always been attentive, always there with the perfect gesture at the perfect moment. She felt flustered by his care, often unsure of how to respond.

For the sake of that bright, youthful love she once had, she had turned him down. Not once. Not twice. But six times.

And after the sixth, she'd made her decision.

"I'll wait for you one last time," Charles had told her, his voice unusually fragile. "If he treats you badly… or if he's already chosen someone else, then come back to me. Try being with me, just once."

Charles had no shortage of admirers. He was handsome and rich. He didn't need to chase anyone. But he chased her.

And maybe that's why she sighed then—because in that moment, she realized they were the same kind of people. Stubborn. Hopelessly so.

She woke with her cheeks damp, the residue of her dreams clinging to her skin. She had cried in her sleep.

Quietly, Maya wiped her tears away and swung her legs off the bed. She thought about making something to eat.

But just as she stepped into the hallway, a strange sound from outside the door made her freeze.

Her stomach dropped.

She had picked this apartment in a rush. The building wasn't exactly top-tier, and the security? Questionable, at best.

Could it be a burglar?

Instinctively, she reached for her phone and typed out a message to Oscar for help.

A moment later, his reply came: [You're really using something like this just to trick me now? I'm with Diana. Stop making a fuss, okay?]

The words hit her like a slap.

She stared at the screen. Since when did she ever joke about something like this?

Maybe he just didn't want to come. Maybe that was all.

She muted his messages and was about to call the police when—

A lazy, familiar voice drifted through the door.

"Maya… you awake?"