I'm Not His Leading Lady

My boyfriend, also my childhood sweetheart, is awakened. He realizes he's the male protagonist in a romance novel, and I'm the female side character. He tells me that I'll never leave him according to the plot. So, he's sure that I won't break up with him.

He cheats on me with the female protagonist for two years and does everything a couple should do. It's only when I decidedly dump him that he realizes what a dumb plot he's believed in.

On the day I returned to the country, my boyfriend, Sean Hoult, threw me a welcome home party. However, my old friends all eyed me with looks of dissatisfaction and resentment as they made sarcastic comments.

Someone remarked, "I'm amazed. Who would've thought that the person who up and left would actually be shameless enough to come back?"

The others chimed in, expressing their agreement.

"I know, right? She's so shameless."

When I left the country, Sean had been gravely ill with barely any hope of survival, and his business was in dire straits.

In just two years, he made a miraculous recovery, and even his business had soared to new heights.

However, Sean knew why I left the country.

I turned toward him, but he remained quiet, showing no intention of standing up for me.

All of a sudden, a woman named Cynthia Tucker picked up her wine glass and stood up. When I saw her face, I was momentarily stunned.

She shared an uncanny resemblance to me, but the words that came out of her mouth were filled with malice.

"Daphne, I'm dying to know if you don't get nightmares from the guilt of abandoning your boyfriend for the sake of your career."

Everyone fell silent, and Sean remained quiet still. Gripping my glass, I replied, "Are you my friend or Sean's, Ms. Tucker? Why are you trying to interfere with our private matter?"

Cynthia was startled, her face turning a little pale. She retorted, "It doesn't matter who I am. Do you know what Sean had to go through for the last two years?"

The more she spoke, the angrier she became. She lifted her hand and threw the wine in her glass at my face.

Some of the people around us chuckled, while others said I deserved what I got.

I was a mess. The wine kept dripping down my face. Even my hands shook as I felt an overwhelming sense of rage and humiliation.

I raised my glass too, but Sean, who had been silent the whole time, stopped me. He also instinctively shielded Cynthia behind him.

"Don't push it, Daphne!"

I froze immediately. It was impossible for me to ignore the reproachful tone of his voice. I hadn't even done anything. I was the one who had been criticized and had wine splashed onto my face.

In the past, whenever someone said anything negative about me, Sean would get so upset that he would flip the table over and demand that the person apologize to me.

Yet, this time, he merely stood aside and watched as someone else insulted me. He even expressed his concern for someone I didn't even know.

What was his relationship with Cynthia?

Seemingly realizing that he had overreacted, Sean hastily added, "Daphne, what I meant is, you just got back. Don't be upset because of someone else. I'll accompany you upstairs to get changed, okay?"

Sean dragged me off. Once we got into the elevator, he held me tightly.

"It's been two years since we last met, Daphne. I missed you so, so much. I really did."

He explained to me that Cynthia was a medical assistant who had helped him a lot the last two years, so he kind of owed her.

His explanation felt a bit off to me, but the suspicion and humiliation I felt melted away as he held me in his arms.

Having been apart for two years, I was consumed with my longing for him. I had missed him very much too.

Sean and I had known each other for 27 years. We were childhood sweethearts and had been in a relationship for ten years now. We were inseparable from each other.

Nevertheless, when I was alone in the room, I kept thinking about the way Sean had protected Cynthia earlier.

The nagging feeling in the back of my mind intensified when I went to the bathroom downstairs to touch up my makeup.

An indescribable stench lingered in the air.

Cynthia was leaning against the sink, using a tissue to wipe the handprints off the mirror.

Her makeup was smudged. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes, and there were used tissues scattered on the floor as well.