The heavy oak doors of the university opened, and students began to trickle out into the late afternoon sun. 

Their chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the tightness in my chest. 

My eyes scanned the crowd impatiently, seeking her, until finally, I saw her.

Serafina.

She walked with the same confidence she always did, her head held high, her back straight, but the strain in her eyes was unmistakable. 

It was something only I would notice, something buried beneath the surface of her practiced composure

My heart clenched, guilt gnawing at me as I realized how much distance had grown between us.

When she spotted me, she hesitated. 

Her footsteps faltered for a brief second before she composed herself and continued toward me, her expression a blend of surprise and wariness.

"Lucien?" she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you," I replied, my voice firm yet gentle. "Can we go somewhere private?"

Before she could respond, a guy approached us. "Hey, Serafina! Who's this?" he asked, his curiosity evident.

Her eyes darted to me, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face. "This is Lucien," she said, forcing a smile. "My... boyfriend. Lucien, this is Cynthus, my friend."

I know this guy. He is Cynthus Drakos, orphan, raised at the Hope Orphanage in Mount Vernon. 

In conclusion, he is not a threat or someone I should be cautious of.

Cynthus's eyebrows shot up. "Boyfriend? You never mentioned having a boyfriend."

I extended my hand to Cynthus. "Nice to meet you."

Cynthus shook my hand, still looking incredulous. "Nice to meet you too. So, how long have you two been together?"

"Quite a while now," Serafina answered, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her discomfort.

Cynthus laughed. "Well, that's a surprise. Serafina never talks about her personal life. You must be pretty special."

"Yeah, she's something else," I said, glancing at her. "We're just trying to make things work, you know?" Cynthus nodded. 

"I get it. Relationships can be tough. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Lucien. See you around, Serafina."

As Cynthus walked away, the forced smiles faded. I turned to Serafina, my expression serious. "We need to talk."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Lucien, I really don't have time for this right now."

"We need to make time," I insisted. "What's going on with us, Serafina? Why won't you talk to me?"

She avoided my gaze, her eyes focused on a point in the distance. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Nothing to talk about?" I repeated, my voice rising. "You used to tell me everything. Now you're shutting me out. You go leave early, come home late. I have no idea of your whereabouts. What's going on, Perle?"

She finally looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and pain. "Things change, Lucien. People change."

"Change how?" I asked, my voice tinged with desperation. 

"I don't understand. We were happy, or at least I thought we were. Why are you pushing me away?"

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand," I pleaded, taking a step closer. "Please, Serafina. I'm begging you. Talk to me."

Her expression hardened, the vulnerability replaced by a steely resolve. "I can't, Lucien. Just let it go."

My heart ached at her words. "Let it go? How can I let it go when it's tearing us apart?"

"What is us, Lucien?" she gestured between us, "this us is nothing but a façade. You're my husband in name only. We don't share anything real ."

The pain in her voice cut deep, but I couldn't back down. "Serafina what are you saying? Do you really think that I don't care?"

She clenched her fists, her voice trembling with frustration. "You don't get it, Lucien. You don't see how every day is a struggle for me. Pretending, smiling, acting like everything is okay when it's not."

"Then let's stop pretending," I said, my voice rising with desperation. "Let's face whatever this is together. But you need to let me in."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "And what if I don't want to let you in? What if I'm tired of fighting for something that's broken?"

"Then tell me that," I shot back, my own frustration boiling over. "But don't shut me out without  giving me a chance to fix it. To fix us."

Serafina took a step back, shaking her head. "Define 'us' again Lucien. What is 'us' ? I'll tell you what are we. We are nothing but two people who lost the rights to their lives and now are stuck together. But the plot twist is, one of us got what they had before, and one of us still lost everything"

"What are you talking about?," I pleaded again, my voice cracking. I can't fucking understand a thing she is saying. "Please, Serafina. Talk to me."

Her gaze hardened, and she turned away. "I can't, Lucien. I just can't."

Her words hung in the air between us, suffocating.

"Serafina," I said, my voice cracking. "I never wanted you to feel this way. I care about you—"

"Care?" She scoffed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You care, but you don't see. You don't see how much this hurts. Pretending, day after day, that everything is fine. Smiling, when all I want to do is scream."

"Then scream," I said, my voice raw with emotion. "Let it out. Tell me what you need. I'll do anything to make this right."

She shook her head again, taking a step back as if putting distance between us would make the pain easier to bear. "You can't fix this, Lucien. It's too late."

The finality in her words felt like a punch to the gut. 

I watched helplessly as she walked away, each step taking her further from me and the life we once shared. 

The distance between us was more than just physical—it was a chasm filled with hurt, resentment, and unspoken words.

As she disappeared into the crowd, I stood there, my heart heavy with the weight of our fractured relationship. 

Walking away from Lucien, I felt a deep ache in my chest. My steps were heavy, each one dragging me further into the abyss of my emotions. 

I slid into the driver's seat, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I fought against the tears threatening to spill over. 

The last thing I wanted was to break down in public. 

But it felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, teetering between the need to scream and the desire to disappear into nothingness.

The last few days had been a hellish whirlwind, and I was barely holding on.

Since that night at the bar, nothing had been the same. 

I had kissed Lucien in a moment of drunken weakness, and it had shattered the fragile equilibrium I had been trying to maintain.

The alcohol had dulled my senses, but the kiss had brought everything into stark, painful clarity.

It was a mistake I couldn't take back, a slip that had laid bare the turmoil within me.

I had thrown myself into my work and studies, hoping to drown out the chaos inside. 

Each morning, I left the house early, trying to avoid any encounters with Lucien and Eleanor. 

Each night, I returned late, hoping to slip into bed unnoticed. 

It was a defense mechanism, a way to shield myself from the painful truths that haunted me.

But avoidance was only a temporary reprieve. 

The confrontation with Lucien had been inevitable. Seeing the confusion and hurt in his eyes had broken something inside me. 

He didn't understand the weight of our pretense, the façade of our marriage. 

How could he, when he was still so entwined with Eleanor?

I leaned against my car, my mind swirling with thoughts. 

The words I had hurled at him echoed in my ears. "You're my husband in name only." It was cruel but true. 

Our marriage had become nothing more than a hollow shell, an empty vessel filled with lies and pretense. 

And Eleanor... her constant presence was a relentless reminder of everything I had lost.

Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breathing. The past few days had been unbearable. 

Every time I saw Eleanor with Lucien, it felt like a knife twisting in my heart. She flaunted their connection, reveling in the memories they shared, while I was left to grapple with the ruins of my dreams.

My phone buzzed, snapping me back to reality. It was a message from Cynthus, checking in on me. 

The lie I had told him earlier, introducing Lucien as my boyfriend, tasted bitter on my tongue.

Cynthus had been surprised, of course. I had never spoken of Lucien, never shared that part of my life. 

It was too painful, too tangled in the web of my emotions.

As I typed a quick reply, my thoughts drifted back to the confrontation. 

The anger, the frustration, the helplessness. Lucien's words had cut deep. "What happened to us, Serafina?" he had asked, his voice filled with desperation. 

But how could I explain the depths of my torment? 

How could I make him understand the constant battle raging within me?

How can I make him understand that he is the reason why I am in so much pain right now?

How could I tell him that the fairy tale I believed because of him, has turned out to be a tragedy?

And oh, how could I tell him that I love him and how every ounce of my blood and it boils while seeing him with her?

I stared at the university building, a place that had become my refuge. 

Here, I could lose myself in lectures and assignments, escape the chaos of my personal life. 

But even within these walls, the shadows of my past and present followed me.

Leaning my head back against the cool metal of the car, I felt tears well up in my eyes. 

I had tried so hard to be strong, to keep it together. 

But the weight of my emotions was crushing me, and I didn't know how much longer I could hold on.

In the silence of the parking lot, I allowed myself to break down. 

I cried for the love that had turned cold, for the dreams that had shattered, and for the woman I once was. 

I cried for the future I had once envisioned, now lost in the ashes of what could have been.

I cried for the girl who had believed in fairy tales, and for the woman who now stood at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take.

The engine roared to life, but my mind was elsewhere—lost in the shadows of memories that haunted me.

The laughter we used to share, the secret glances across crowded rooms, the way he would hold me just a moment longer than necessary. 

Those were the moments that made me feel alive. 

Now, all I felt was suffocated by the weight of expectations and the crushing realization that the love I had once clung to so fiercely was slipping away.

I drove aimlessly, not sure where I was headed, but needing to escape the pressure that seemed to close in around me. 

Each mile felt like a step away from my reality, a chance to breathe.

But no matter how far I drove, I couldn't escape the truth that lay in the back of my mind, gnawing at me like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch. 

Lucien had a life—a full, vibrant life, complete with dreams and ambitions that didn't include me. 

He had found solace in Eleanor, someone who seemed to fit seamlessly into his world while I remained a ghost, a specter of what once was.

A familiar coffee shop came into view, and I found myself pulling into the parking lot without even realizing it. 

I needed a moment—a chance to gather my thoughts. 

As I stepped inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped me, momentarily distracting me from my swirling emotions.

I ordered a french vanilla latte, the barista's cheerful chatter fading into the background as I took a seat by the window. 

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my messages, but none of them offered the comfort I craved. 

Instead, I was met with the reminder of how alone I felt.

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a group of students from the university. 

They laughed and joked, their energy vibrant and carefree. 

I watched as they settled into a corner, completely oblivious to the turmoil that had become my life.

It stung. 

I wanted to be like them, laughing without a care in the world, but I felt like I was standing on the outside looking in.

"Serafina? Is that you?" a voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to find Cynthus approaching, his face lighting up as he recognized me.

"Hey," I replied, forcing a smile that felt far too heavy on my lips.

"What are you doing here? You never come by this side of town." He slid into the seat across from me, his expression friendly but curious.

"Just needed a change of scenery," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Right," he said, tilting his head slightly. "You seem a little off. Everything okay?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. 

Should I share the truth? 

Should I tell him how Lucien and I were spiraling into chaos, or how I felt like I was losing my grip on reality? 

But then, I remembered the conversation we just had, the emotions I'd spilled out to Lucien, and I found myself unwilling to do it all over again.

"I'm fine," I said instead, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "Just a lot on my mind, you know?"

Cynthus studied me for a moment, his brow furrowing. "You know, if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here. I mean it."

"Thanks," I replied, touched by his offer but painfully aware of how unhelpful it would be. No one could understand what I was going through—not really. "I appreciate it."

After a moment of silence, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Is this about that guy? Lucien? I saw you two earlier. You looked... intense."

My stomach twisted at the mention of his name, and I shrugged, trying to dismiss the subject. "We're just... going through some stuff."

"Stuff," Cynthus repeated, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You sure it's just 'stuff'? Because it looked like there was more to it."

I couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. "Yeah, more like a hurricane."

"Then why not just tell him how you feel?" Cynthus asked, leaning back in his seat. "I mean, if he really cares about you, he'll want to work through it, right?"

I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe that Lucien would fight for us, that he would see how much I loved him beneath all the anger and resentment. But what if he didn't? What if he was just as broken as I was, too caught up in his own struggles to reach out for me?

"I don't know, Cynthus," I said, my voice low. "What if he doesn't want to hear it? What if he's already made his choice?"

Cynthus frowned, concern etching lines on his forehead. "But how will you know unless you try? Keeping it bottled up isn't going to help either of you."

As he spoke, I felt a spark of something—hope?—ignite within me. 

What if he was right? 

What if I confronted Lucien, laid everything bare? 

I had spent too long hiding my feelings, pretending everything was fine.

But then the fear hit me like a wave, crashing down and dragging me under. 

What if I lost him for good? 

What if opening up only drove him further away?

"You don't understand," I murmured, shaking my head. "It's complicated."

"Complicated doesn't mean impossible," Cynthus replied gently. "If you love him, then fight for it. You deserve to be happy, Serafina."

The conviction in his voice resonated deep within me, stirring something I had buried long ago. 

Perhaps it was time to stop hiding, to confront the truth of my feelings head-on. 

If Lucien was willing to listen, maybe we could find a way back to each other.

But as I thought of Eleanor—her smooth, practiced charm and the way she fit so easily into Lucien's world—I felt the familiar pang of doubt creep back in. 

Would I be enough? 

Would he still want me after everything that had happened?

"I'll think about it," I finally said, though uncertainty laced my words.

"Just remember," Cynthus said as he got up to leave, "life's too short to live in the shadows. You deserve more than that."

As he walked away, his words echoed in my mind, leaving me with a sense of determination mingled with fear.

I would have to face Lucien. 

I had to confront the mess we'd made together and decide if my love was worth fighting for.