I shoved through the crowd like a woman possessed, fighting my way toward the front. I needed to hear the truth from his mouth.

I barely made it a few steps before I saw them descending the staircase together, hand in hand.

A golden couple. The kind everyone envied.

"Wow, a real power match! They look incredible together!"

"That face of hers could stop traffic. No wonder Young Mr. Simmons is throwing money around like this."

Voices swirled around me, every one of them marveling at how perfectly they fit.

I looked down at myself. Jeans washed so many times the color had bled out. A twenty-yuan t-shirt. Worlds apart.

Drew's gaze swept the crowd. The moment it landed on me, something panicked flickered in his eyes, there and gone in a heartbeat.

Then he lifted Zelda's hand, tilting it just enough to let the matching ring catch the light.

"Today is Zelda's birthday, and a day worth celebrating for another reason."

He placed both hands on her stomach.

"Zelda is carrying our child. I'm going to give her the wedding she deserves."

My mind went blank. The noise, the crowd, everything around me seemed to stop.

All I could see was Drew with his arms around Zelda, and I forgot how to breathe.

I don't know how long I stood there before I came back to myself.

I lunged forward, half-crazed, and a wall of bodyguards blocked me.

"Drew Simmons, what about me?"

I screamed it, nearly howling, my voice shredded with fury and the raw pain of betrayal.

But the cheering was too loud, the fireworks shaking every corner of the park, and no one heard me. No one saw the tears sliding down my face.

I don't remember how I got home. All I know is Melinda had to half-carry me back.

The cup of noodles was still on the table. Cold broth. Bloated, shapeless noodles.

I looked at it and started laughing.

My phone buzzed. A familiar profile picture. A message:

"Let's meet tomorrow so I can explain. Get some rest."

I didn't sleep that night.

Drew's hands on Zelda's stomach kept playing behind my eyes, over and over. That wasn't staged.

I dragged myself out of bed and searched for everything I could find on Simmons Technologies.

In a blurry old photo, I finally saw him. Teenage Drew, unmistakable.

The only son of Harbor City's richest family—and he'd spent seven years pretending to be poor right beside me.

I picked up my phone and blocked him.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by pounding on the door.