Shattered illusions

The rain battered against my body like icy needles as I stood at the gate of the Shawn villa, my hair plastered to my face. The white mansion loomed above me, its grandeur dulled by the gray skies. My clothes clung to my skin, heavy and soaked through, but I didn't bother to shield myself anymore. What was the point? I had made it this far, and the rain had already won. 

I hated this. I hated everything about it. Delivering Jessy's ring myself wasn't just humiliating—it was a reminder of all the ways I had been reduced to nothing more than Christopher's errand girl. 

The gateman's voice broke through the pounding of the rain. "Who's there?" he called, his face appearing briefly in the small window on the gate. 

I straightened up, forcing my voice to remain steady. "It's me, Olivia. I'm here to deliver a ring for Miss Jessy." 

He opened the gate with a loud creak, his umbrella shielding him from the deluge as he gestured me inside. "Young miss is in," he said simply. 

I nodded without a word and trudged toward the front door of the mansion. The rain hadn't let up for a second, and I could feel it dripping down my back, soaking me to my core. My phone, left back at the office to avoid water damage, was probably the only dry thing in my life right now. I hadn't expected the weather to turn like this. I hadn't expected *any* of this. 

The doorbell echoed through the house as I pressed it, my finger trembling slightly from the chill. I rang it again, and again, until finally, the door swung open. Jessy stood there, her perfect features marred by a scowl the moment she saw me. 

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice sharp and cold. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and held out the box. "Christopher asked me to deliver this to you." 

She snatched it from my hand without so much as a thank you, her lips curled in disdain. I stared at her, wondering how someone could look so flawless and yet harbor so much cruelty. 

The rain continued to pour, the sound filling the heavy silence between us. I wanted to leave, to step back into the storm and away from her piercing glare, but something rooted me in place. Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion. Maybe it was the weight of everything else. 

"Did you open this box, Olivia?" Jessy's voice cut through the air like a blade. 

Her question startled me. I turned to face her fully, my wet hair sticking to my face. "I—I'm sorry," I stammered. "The receipt had my name on it, so I thought it was mine at first." 

Her eyes narrowed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the edge of the box. "You opened it," she repeated, her tone venomous. "How *dare* you?" 

Before I could react, her hand lashed out, the slap cracking against my cheek with enough force to make me stumble. My jaw throbbed as I held it with one hand, the sting radiating through my face. 

I blinked at her in disbelief, the rain outside suddenly seeming warmer than the cold hatred in her eyes. 

Jessy's fury didn't stop there. She threw the ring box to the floor, the diamond ring tumbling out and landing with a soft clink. Without hesitation, she stomped on it, her heels grinding the delicate metal and stone into the floor until it cracked. 

"You've broken my ring!" she shrieked, her voice rising with hysteria. "This is all your fault!" 

Before I could even process what was happening, she raised her hand again, but this time, I caught her wrist. My fingers tightened around her arm as I pushed back, the frustration and anger boiling over inside me. 

Jessy staggered slightly, her eyes widening in shock. And then, just as the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears, she let herself fall to the floor. 

"She pushed me!" Jessy wailed, her voice dripping with fake tears. "Christopher, she's gone mad! I only confronted her about breaking the ring, and she slapped me before shoving me!" 

I turned to see Christopher standing in the doorway, his piercing gaze locking onto me. My heart sank as I saw the flicker of anger in his eyes. 

"No," I said quickly, my voice shaking. "I didn't—" 

"Olivia," Christopher interrupted, his tone icy. "I *saw* you push her just now." 

I froze, the words catching in my throat. He didn't even ask for an explanation. He didn't care. 

"Apologize to her," he ordered, his voice as cold and commanding as ever. 

"Pardon?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"Apologize to her," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

I stared at him, the disbelief washing over me in waves. He couldn't possibly mean this. He couldn't seriously be asking me—no, *ordering* me—to apologize for something I didn't do. 

"Between your job and your apology, choose one," Christopher said, his words slicing through me like a dagger. 

I stood there, rooted in place, my drenched clothes clinging to me as I stared at him. My chest tightened as his ultimatum hung in the air, the weight of it pressing down on me. 

Jessy smirked from where she still sat on the floor, her fake tears glistening under the dim light. "Start now," she said smugly, her voice dripping with triumph. "Start apologizing, Olivia." 

I laughed, the sound bitter and hollow as it escaped my lips. My gaze shifted to her, taking in her perfectly coiffed hair, her designer clothes, her smug expression. Then, I turned to Christopher, the man I had once believed was worth everything I had done for him. 

He looked back at me, his expression unreadable, but his posture screamed indifference. 

"Olivia," he said again, his voice as detached as ever, "I'm giving you five minutes." 

I let out another hollow laugh, my body trembling—not from the cold, but from the sheer absurdity of it all. For a long moment, I said nothing, my gaze locked on his as the seconds ticked away. 

This wasn't just about the rain, or Jessy, or the ring. It was about everything. Every unspoken word, every ignored effort, every time I had been overlooked, dismissed, and treated like I didn't matter. 

And now, Christopher was asking me to choose.