Chapter 3

"I've already shattered Melinda's dreams for you. Why are you being so cruel to her?"

I lay on the chilly ground like a discarded puppet, motionless, with tears streaming down my face.

Zayn's countenance softened as he observed me, his own eyes brimming with tears. He crouched beside me, clasping my shaking hand in his.

"Xandra," he uttered softly, as if his words could erase the recent events. "Don't fret."

"I was cautious," he added, his tone disturbingly composed. "You won't be able to dance anymore, but you'll still have the ability to walk. It's not the end of everything."

He spoke these words with such genuineness, as if his brutality was an act of mercy—as though robbing me of my aspiration was some kind of warped present.

I rested my head against the wall, feeling suffocated by the heaviness in my chest. My heart felt as if it had been crushed by the same weapon he had used on my leg. I never imagined the man I cherished would not only break my heart but also ravage my body.

For years, I had clung to the memory of the boy who fell for me at first sight, the boy who once vowed, "Xandra, I'll love you forever. Even if your grandma's gone, I'll shield you with all I have."

For that boy, I had given him my faith, my soul, and my entire being. I had strived to be the ideal girlfriend, loyal and steadfast. But throughout all the hardships I endured over the years, when had he truly stood by my side?

A metallic flavor rose in my throat and tears blurred my vision. I gazed at Zayn, the man I thought I knew, for a prolonged moment before speaking.

My voice wavered as I said, "Zayn, let's end this relationship."

His hand, which had been gently wiping away my tears, halted mid-air. His lips quivered as he stared at me, his eyes wide with shock, "What... what did you just say?" he stammered, as if unable to comprehend the words. "End this?"

In a flash, his expression turned incredulous, "I've already said I'll take care of you! The venue for our wedding has already been reserved. And you're ending things with me over something so insignificant?"

I leaned my head against the wall and let out a sardonic chuckle. Insignificant?

To him, crippling my leg and stealing my life's ambition was just a minor setback.

Zayn quickly masked his rage and leaned in closer, attempting to embrace me. "I apologize," he mumbled. "I didn't intend to cause you harm."

"After all we've been through, Xandra... are you really willing to discard everything like this?" His gaze dropped to my injured leg, which continued to bleed. He exhaled deeply.

"There are matters you don't comprehend yet. I'll explain everything to you later. For now, let me take you to get medical attention."

He reached out to touch me, but before his hand could meet mine, his phone vibrated. It was another call. From her.

I didn't need to see the caller ID to know.

"Oh, Zayn," Melinda's voice whined through the speaker, feigning vulnerability. "I just received my award and was about to celebrate, but... but these intoxicated men—they tried to grab me! I'm terrified..."

Zayn's entire demeanor changed. His eyes narrowed, his expression darkened with fury.

"Those scoundrels," he snarled. "Don't worry, Melinda, I'm on my way."

Her voice wavered, tinged with poorly concealed amusement. "But... Zayn, what about Xandra? I don't want to create problems for you."

His jaw clenched, his voice sharp and resolute. "She wouldn't dare stop me. And if she tries, I'll break her other leg too."

He ended the call and immediately turned to me, his face softening again as though he hadn't just uttered that cruel threat.

"Xandra, don't misinterpret," he said, his tone almost condescending. "Melinda's a fragile girl. If I hadn't said that, she wouldn't allow me to leave."

"You stay here and rest. I'll take you for treatment as soon as I've resolved things for her."

I wasn't taken aback by his choice. I'd ceased being surprised long ago. No matter what promises he made to me, once Melinda appeared, I would always be cast aside. Every single instance. My heart felt vacant, as though it had been carved out with a knife and left to bleed. I watched him turn to depart, his resolve unwavering.

"Zayn," I called out, my voice barely audible.

He paused in his tracks, but when he turned to face me, his expression was already laced with annoyance.