Chapter 3

Arthur raised the black garment bag high above my head with one hand.

Inside was the gown my mother had sewn for me right before she passed away.

I reached out. "Give it to me."

"Take me off your block list, and I'll give it back to you."

I stared at Arthur's arrogant face, my stomach churning uncontrollably.

He seemed to have completely forgotten that I'd nearly died from an allergic reaction.

His reaction back then was assuming I was faking it just to give his precious little freshman a hard time.

"Stop throwing a tantrum. I'm heading to closed training for the playoffs. You won't see me for two whole weeks."

I took a step back.

"I don't care where you go. Even if you drop dead, it's none of my business. We're done, Arthur."

Arthur's expression darkened. He forcefully grabbed my wrist and yanked me flush against his chest. A heavy, suffocating kiss landed on my cheek.

"What exactly do I have to do to make you happy?"

I shoved him away hard and turned on my heel, marching toward the exit.

It wasn't until I was sitting in my car that I realized I still didn't have the dress.

I texted him in frustration.

[I need that dress for the charity gala tomorrow night. Have it sent to me. Now.]

A few minutes later, my screen lit up.

[I'll bring it to you tomorrow.]

Leaving no room for argument, he went completely offline.

I closed my eyes and fought the urge to smash my phone against the dashboard.

The next day, backstage at the charity gala.

I dialed Arthur's number for the twentieth time. Straight to the cold, automated voicemail.

The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers: "Next up, a special collaborative dance by Lily and Arthur!"

The spotlight hit center stage. There was Lily, dancing in my dress.

It was a classic waltz. The exact same song Arthur and I had danced to the night we made our relationship official.

A few people standing near me whispered in hushed tones.

"They look like they were made for each other."

Without a word, I dropped my freezing gaze and turned toward the backstage exit.

Just as I reached the end of the hallway, hurried footsteps echoed behind me.

"Vivian! Wait!" Arthur held out the garment bag.

"Lily's dress ripped at the last minute. She was in a panic, so I just let her borrow it to save face. You have hundreds of couture gowns in your closet anyway; missing out on wearing this one won't kill you."

I snatched the garment bag from his hand.

The silk hem was torn with ugly rips from being stepped on by sharp heels.

Worst of all, the pure white lining was stained with glaring red wine spots.

The seams were practically frayed, trailing broken threads from obvious, violent tugging.

Arthur's eyes shifted nervously. "I... I didn't know it would get this bad. Look, I'll just buy you a new one."

"My mother made this for me with her own two hands!" My chest heaved heavily.

"Vivian, you can't blame Arthur for this!"

Lily suddenly grabbed the bottom of the garment bag, yanking it toward her chest. "It's all my fault, I shouldn't have worn it! I'll take it back and fix it! I promise I'll make it look exactly like it did before!"

I immediately yanked back, trying to rip the bag from her grip.

But Arthur stepped between us, locking his hand around my wrist. "Vivian, calm down! I promise you, I'll get the dress fixed and return it to you!"

While he held me back, Lily turned and ran off with the dress.

Arthur leaned in close to me. "Trust me this once. I swear I'll return it to you looking brand new."

I jerked my hand out of his grasp. The look I gave him was nothing but absolute, freezing indifference.

Two days later.

A new text popped up on my screen.

[Dress is fixed. Want it back? Come ski with me tomorrow morning. Show up, and it's yours.]

The next morning, I arrived at the meeting spot. I called his number over a dozen times, but Arthur's phone was off.

"Stop calling." Lily appeared out of nowhere, holding up her phone screen.

In the photo, Arthur was standing in a snowy clearing, surrounded by ribbons and heart-shaped balloons.

"Arthur is waiting for me at the summit," Lily said, a smug smile spreading across her face. "This confession setup? It's all for me. You're only here to be our little audience."

"You two make me sick." I turned around to leave.

Lily's voice rang out behind me. "The dress is right here in my bag. If you dare to head down the mountain right now, I'll take a pair of scissors and shred this pile of rags to pieces."

My feet froze in place.

I gritted my teeth and began trekking up the snowy trail.

The higher we climbed, the steeper the trail became.

Suddenly, a blinding, piercing agony shot through my ankle.

A massive, rusted metal bear trap had snapped shut, tearing right through my snow pants. The rusted steel teeth bit deep into my calf.

I screamed, collapsing hard into the snow. Hot blood immediately soaked through the fabric, staining the pristine white snow a dark crimson.

"Oops," Lily sneered, looking down at me. "Looks like you aren't making it to the top. I guess the dress is mine now."

Fighting through the agonizing pain, I pulled out my phone.

Lily snatched the phone. "Trying to call for help?"

With a flick of her wrist, she threw it.

My phone tumbled over the edge, disappearing down into the snow-covered ravine.

Without a backward glance, Lily turned and jogged up the trail toward the summit.

I grabbed the rusted steel jaws, using all my strength to pry them open. It was completely useless.

The bleeding was getting worse. My body heat was dropping dangerously fast.

The agonizing pain, the dizzying blood loss, and the sheer terror of freezing to death alone finally shattered my walls.

Tears bled from my eyes, dropping uncontrollably into the snow.

Suddenly, a deep, resonant male voice spoke from above me.

"Why is it that every time I find you, you're crying?"