I slipped in the bathroom and cried out for my boyfriend to help me. Instead of rushing in, he accused me of trying to seduce him with a "wet t-shirt routine." "It doesn't matter what cheap tricks you use, Sarah, it won't work on me!" he yelled through the door. "I won't touch you until Chloe graduates!" He was too busy helping his dead ex-girlfriend's sister write her thesis. He ignored my screams of pain and slammed the front door, leaving me on the cold tiles. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out. I used every ounce of strength to call 911. Later, the doctor told me I had a severe fracture and needed surgery. I called him a dozen times. No answer. I opened Instagram and saw Chloe had posted a new story. [Help! How do you seduce a hot college professor?] The photo showed my boyfriend, Julian, leaning over her, his hand guiding hers as they worked on her laptop. His expression was patient, tender—a look I hadn't seen in years. After I was discharged, I called my parents. "That arranged marriage with the Vanderbilts? I'll do it. The sooner, the better." 1 My mom was shocked but thrilled. She never liked Julian, but she knew how deeply I loved him. She knew I wouldn't walk away unless I had been shattered completely. My dad, a professor at Columbia, sighed. "If you're going to cut ties, make it clean. Don't drag it out." I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and nodded. Just last week, while I was lying in a hospital bed, Chloe posted a photo on her story. [Spontaneous trip! Fully sponsored by Professor Julian.] The photo showed two suitcases—one black, one pink—pressed together intimately. I recognized the black one immediately. It was the limited-edition Rimowa I bought Julian for his birthday. I called him, demanding an explanation. Julian sounded annoyed. "Chloe's thesis is on sustainable architecture in the Pacific Northwest. I'm just taking her on a field trip to see the sites. As her advisor, it's my duty." Then, I heard Chloe's voice in the background. "Professor Julian, can you grab me a towel?" Julian responded calmly, "Coming." Before hanging up, he threw me a bone—or perhaps, an excuse to ease his own conscience. "Sarah, if it weren't for you, Chloe's sister would still be alive. I'm doing this to help you atone for your sins." It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Three years later, and he still blamed me for his first love's death. Why did he stay with me then? Just to torture me? I tried to text him back, to scream at him, but the messages failed to send. Message Not Delivered. I stared at the red exclamation mark, my vision blurring. Julian blocked me. He blocked his girlfriend so I wouldn't disturb his "field trip" with another woman. I called his best friend, begging him to get Julian on the phone. The message relayed back to me was cold: "Tell Sarah to stop being dramatic. Chloe's thesis is crucial for her grad school application. When we get back, I'll propose to Sarah like I promised." He was wrong. No one waits in the same place forever. 2 I thought the man my parents set me up with would be skeptical of my sudden agreement. Instead, he seemed afraid I would change my mind. He suggested next week for the wedding. My parents asked me nervously if that was too soon. I agreed without hesitation. After dinner with my parents, I went back to the apartment I had shared with Julian for three years. I turned the key, and suddenly, a figure jumped out at me. "Master, your bunny is ready for orders!" The girl froze when she saw it was me. Chloe was wearing a playboy bunny outfit—fishnets, ears, and a corset that barely covered anything. She was only eight years younger than me, but her vibrant youth felt like a mockery of my exhaustion. "Oops... Julian insisted I wear this," she said, backing away with wide, innocent eyes. "If you don't like it, I'll leave." She took a step back and pretended to trip over a box. Instantly, a figure rushed from the hallway and caught her. Julian. After checking if Chloe was hurt, he turned his rage on me. "Sarah! Can't you be the bigger person? She's just a kid! How can you be so mean?" I looked at them coldly. "A kid? She's twenty-three, Julian. What kind of 'kid' wears that in someone else's home?" Slap. Julian struck me across the face. "Stop it! Not everyone grew up with a silver spoon like you, Sarah!" 3 Chloe started crying on cue. "I'm sorry... I know I have no manners... My parents died when I was a baby... the only person who taught me anything was my sister... and she's gone..." She buried her face in Julian's chest, shaking with sobs. But over his shoulder, her eyes gleamed with malice. "It's not your fault, Chloe," Julian cooed, wiping her tears. His hand paused mid-air as he finally seemed to notice her outfit. "Why are you wearing this?" His Adam's apple bobbed. The desire in his eyes was unmistakable. Chloe saw it and blushed. "I have a cosplay event tomorrow. This is just a costume. If you don't like it, Professor, I'll take it off right now!" She reached for the zipper. Julian stopped her hands, his grip lingering. They stood there, holding hands, forgetting I existed. "If it's for a performance, then it's fine," Julian said, glaring at me. "Only people with dirty minds see dirt everywhere." I laughed. A dry, bitter sound. Watching Chloe's clumsy manipulation, I felt like a fool for the last three years. Since his first love, Clara, died, I had been his girlfriend in name only. He never touched me. I thought time would heal him. I thought if I waited, he would eventually love me. But reality slapped me in the face. Clara left, and Chloe arrived. I was just a placeholder. I bought lingerie to please him. He pushed me away with disgust. I learned ballroom dancing because he liked elegance. He called me desperate. But Chloe? She just had to look 50% like her dead sister and wear a cheap costume to make this "stoic" man lose his mind. It wasn't that I wasn't good enough. I just wasn't her. 4 "I should go back to the dorm," Chloe said, pushing Julian away gently. She started packing her bag. A stack of photos slid out. They were photos of them in Hanfu costumes, taken in an old town in China during their trip. They looked like a couple from a period drama. Julian had a locked drawer in his study. Inside was an album of him and Clara in the exact same costumes, in the exact same location. He was recreating his memories with the dead sister using the living one. Julian snatched the photos up, treasuring them. "It's late. The dorms are closed. Sleep here tonight." Chloe looked at me nervously. "Why look at her? This is my house. I decide who stays." I looked at him calmly. "Yes. It's your house." I walked past them to the master bedroom. Julian grabbed my arm. "You take the guest room. Chloe likes the morning sun, so she gets the master." Just for a little sunlight? "Okay." Julian seemed surprised by my lack of fight. His expression softened slightly. He noticed the red mark on my face. "Wait. I'll get some ice for that." "No need." Compared to the hole in my heart, a slap was nothing. I went into the guest room and locked the door. I packed my essentials into a suitcase. Everything else—the clothes, the memories—I left behind. Julian tried to open the door later, but found it locked. "Sarah? Are you mad?" He sounded cautious. Usually, I would be screaming or crying by now. My silence unsettled him. 5 "No," I said through the door. "Why would I be? She's your student, not your mistress." Silence. Then a sigh of relief. "Sarah, just bear with it for a bit. I'll make it up to you later." Make it up to me? I chuckled. Too late, Julian. "Professor Julian!" Chloe screamed from the bathroom. Julian rushed over. "Chloe? Did you slip? Are you okay?" No answer. Through the frosted glass, I saw Julian hesitate, then open the door. A shadow threw itself onto him. "Professor... can't you just pretend I'm my sister?" "Chloe, stop..." He tried to push her away, but his resistance was weak. "Why? Am I not as pretty as her? Or Sarah?" "Shh... we'll talk tomorrow." I watched their silhouettes merge on the glass. My elbow throbbed. The fracture from my fall in that same bathroom still ached. When I fell, he left me there. When she called, he ran to her. History repeats itself, but the ending depends on who you are. I laughed at myself and put in my noise-canceling headphones. 6 The next morning, the apartment was empty. On the table were cold dumplings and a note. [Taking Chloe to campus. Wait for me.] I threw the food in the trash. I took off the bracelet he gave me two years ago—a regifted PR sample from a brand—and threw that in the trash too. I used to treasure it. Now, it was just junk. I dragged my suitcase out the door. When I got home, my mom was beaming. "We just finalized the venue with the Vanderbilt family." I looked at my childhood home and felt my nose sting. "Is it done?" "Yes. This afternoon we're going dress shopping. Oh, my baby girl is finally getting married." Mom's eyes teared up. I was an only child, spoiled and loved. Until I met Julian, I had never known hardship. I wiped her tears. "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not leaving today." The bridal shop was nearby. Mom went to buy invitations, so I walked in alone. Inside, I saw a familiar scene. Chloe, in a white wedding gown, leaning on Julian's shoulder. The staff were gushing about what a beautiful couple they made. Julian saw me in the mirror. He panicked. "Sarah! Why are you here? Don't misunderstand. We're just taking photos to... fulfill a regret." I didn't blink. I walked past them. Chloe smirked. "Yeah, Mrs. Julian. The Professor just wants to experience what he missed with my sister. I'm just a stand-in. You don't mind, do you?" The staff looked awkward. "Of course not," I said. "Carry on." I started browsing the racks. Julian froze. He stared at my back, suddenly anxious. "Sarah, why are you really here?"
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