Fireworks Fade, Love Never Returns

James Smith was my sister's childhood sweetheart. They got engaged when they were little kids. I once saw James, who normally stayed away from women, turn red with anger just because my sister smiled at someone else. He kissed her fiercely for a whole hour.

Later, his family sent him away to Emberfall City. My sister ran off, and the engagement was called off.

Only I followed him without hesitation.

For those five years, I stayed with James in that basement apartment, drinking cheap alcohol and taking knives for him.

In those darkest days, he held me and said I was his only light.

With tears in his eyes, he promised me that once he made it back to the top, he would marry me.

But one week before our wedding, my sister came back.

When he heard she might be in danger, he didn't think twice.

With me eight months pregnant in the car, he ran over a dozen red lights.

When we got there, he jumped out and never looked back.

His enemies took the chance to get in the car and crashed it into a tree with me inside.

When I opened my eyes again, James's eyes were red.

"Olivia Smith, your sister hurt her leg. To calm her down, I'm marrying her next week."

I touched my pregnant belly and nodded.

"Don't worry, it's just a ceremony."

I looked out the window at the bright sunshine.

Spring had come, and it was time for me to leave.

"We'll divorce but not separate. You don't have to leave my house."

He hadn't even married Cleo Smith yet, but it was already "his house."

I forced a smile.

"After the wedding, I'll take you skiing. You've always wanted to go, right?"

James's tone softened, like he was calming down a moody pet.

I made a sound in response.

Just then, the doctor pushed the door open, frowning.

"Ms. Smith, you need to be more careful. Eight broken ribs, and your right leg almost shattered. If you'd come in any later, forget the baby—even God couldn't have saved your life."

The doctor looked at me, then at James.

"Eight months pregnant, the baby's fully formed, and you let her go racing with you?"

I froze and turned to look at James.

James avoided my eyes and said in a voice only we could hear:

"If word got out about that place, it would be bad for Cleo's reputation."

I suddenly laughed.

So Cleo's reputation was more important than my life and our child's life.

The doctor continued his warnings.

"As the father, you need to pay attention and take good care of the mother and child."

I found it ridiculous.

Right now, all he could think about was Cleo. Why would he want to take care of me and the baby in my belly?

Once the doctor left, the room fell silent.

I gently touched my belly.

"You're getting married, so what about our baby?"

James's face stiffened for a moment, then showed clear irritation.

"I already told you it's just a ceremony. What's the point of using the baby to pressure me now?"

"Olivia, can't you be more reasonable?"

The door burst open.

"Olivia!"

Cleo—my sister, and the person James loved.

"It's my fault! Don't fight with James because of me..."

She rushed over and grabbed my hand tightly, her nails digging deep into my flesh.

"I was just scared at first... I told James later that I was fine... but he insisted on coming..."

She pulled, and the needle in my hand shifted.

Blood came out, forming little flowers on the white sheets.

But James didn't notice at all.

"Olivia."

He frowned at me, his tone disgusted.

"Don't make a scene with Cleo over something so small. She's hurt too. The wedding's tomorrow—don't upset her."

In that moment, all the pain from my arm shot straight to my heart.

"It's fine. You and Cleo have a good wedding."

I looked him in the eye and said it seriously.

As soon as I finished speaking, Cleo threw herself into his arms, crying and pulling at his sleeve.

"James, don't force Olivia... She must feel terrible."

She turned to look at me with teary eyes.

"Olivia, are you really okay with this? Next week... can you be my bridesmaid? Just... just be with me one last time."

"If you don't want to, that's okay... then I'll just give James back to you..."

Before I could answer, James's voice came down like ice and iron.

"You have to go. Cleo and I were engaged from the start."

"If nothing had happened back then, I would have married her already. These past few years, you've been holding us back."

"Next week you have to be the bridesmaid to make up for it, so she can rest easy and heal."

"Make up for it..."

I whispered softly.

I stayed with him in that dark, damp basement for five years, barely eating, constantly sick.

I stayed up all night with him drinking at business meetings until I had stomach bleeding, leaving me with health problems for life.

I took a knife for him, lost so much blood I was in the hospital for three days and nights, nearly died on the operating table.

Every single thing, I gave him my whole heart.

But now, according to him, I held him back. I'm the one who needs to make up for it.

I looked at how carefully he protected Cleo, then glanced at her leg that was just scraped but wrapped up tight, and suddenly I laughed until I cried.

He couldn't see that I was eight months pregnant and nearly died in that car yesterday.

He couldn't see my eight broken ribs.

He couldn't see all my injuries.

All he could see was that tiny scratch on Cleo's leg.

All he could see were her tears, her weakness, her pain.

He even trampled on me, humiliated me.

For a moment, it was more ridiculous than bitter.

"Fine, I'll go."

James was clearly surprised—he didn't expect me to agree so quickly.

I spoke first.

"Don't worry, I'll be a good bridesmaid and send you two off to 'happily ever after.'"

James looked at me with a mocking smile.

I knew he was thinking I was playing hard to get again. Too bad for him—this time he was wrong.

"I hope you mean it."

With that, he took Cleo's hand and left without looking back.

The door slammed shut. I looked down and touched my belly.

"Baby, let's leave, okay?"

My belly moved slightly, as if agreeing.

I smiled and picked up my phone, booking a flight to Astoria for one week later.

James, the baby and I don't need you anymore.

One week from now, at your wedding, I'll let you have each other.