Chapter 3
“Ronan,” Blake sighed, leaning in to speak more privately, “don’t you think this might blow up in your face? Something seems off about Anya. What if she really did get married?”
“No chance,” Ronan scoffed confidently. “She’s just putting on an act. You’ve seen how desperate she is–she’ll come running back the second I snap my fingers.”
Remembering my unnervingly calm expression as I left, he shifted uncomfortably before adding, “Besides, I’m getting bored with this game. After the wedding, I’ll suddenly ‘recover‘ my memory, act all devastated about what I’ve done, tell her she’s the only one I’ve ever truly loved–trust me, she’ll come crawling back like the pathetic ex she
is.”
“Man, you’re a legend,” Tyler laughed, raising his glass. “You got to live your best life for five years while she sat around waiting like a lovesick puppy.”
Sylvia pouted, tracing her finger along his chest. “So what happens to me after your miraculous recovery?”
Ronan squeezed her waist suggestively. “Same arrangement as always, baby. Besides,” he smirked, “isn’t sneaking around behind her back way more exciting than being all boring and official?”
I stood frozen just outside the doorway, having heard every word. Something inside me turned to ice.
I rushed to the hotel entrance, gulping down deep breaths to keep from throwing up right there in the lobby.
What Ronan never knew was that on the night of his “fatal” accident five years ago, someone had sent me a video.
With shaking hands, I pulled up the file on my phone.
His voice came through crystal clear, laughing casually with his friends: “I mean, I love Anya and all, but God, she’s so damn boring. The thought of being stuck with just her for the rest of my life? Kill me now.”
“I’ll fake my death, disappear for a few years, live it up a little. When I come back, I’ll just say I have amnesia. Make sure you guys record her falling apart–I can’t wait to see her totally destroyed, begging me to remember her.”
The day the doctor pronounced him dead, I reacted exactly as he’d hoped.
That crushing despair left me too numb even to cry.
I considered ending it all that night. His “grieving” friends dramatically stopped me.
I never noticed their phones discreetly recording my breakdown.
I never caught the smirks they hid behind their tissues.
I locked my phone and slipped it back into my purse.
From that moment on, Ronan may have faked his death, but to me, he truly died that day.
10:28
Addio To The Stand–In Past, This Time I Chose To Reclaim My Own Life
19.09%
Chapter 3
News of Ronan’s survival broke alongside the announcement of his engagement, causing a social media firestorm.
That evening, Sylvia flooded her Instagram with updates.
Photos of the exclusive venue they’d booked.
A video of her twirling in the custom designer dress.
Close–ups of the flawless diamond ring sparkling on her finger.
Everything Ronan had once carefully chosen for me.
The photos showed them with fingers intertwined, captioned with sickeningly sweet promises of eternal love.
I was about to close the app when a notification popped up from Ronan: “Dying of jealousy yet?”
I immediately blocked him.
Then came Sylvia’s message: “See it all, sis? You were just our entertainment. I’m the only one who deserves to be Mrs. Quinn.”
Without hesitation, I blocked her too.
10-28
