I Chose Myself

I once believed the five years Victor gave me were a testament to true love. He laid the best of the world at my feet. It wasn't until I was holding the positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy and ready to surprise him, that I stumbled upon the truth. Everything he had done, every grand gesture, was a calculated move to help his sister steal the man I truly loved.

When I confronted him, Victor offered me two choices, as if tossing scraps to a beggar: take ten million dollars and disappear forever, or pretend nothing had happened and continue to bask in the warmth of his "love."

Everyone thought I would choose the latter. After all, I had loved him so deeply.

But without a moment's hesitation, I chose the money.

That's when Victor truly panicked. He grabbed my hand, his voice cracking as he pleaded, "Zoe, why can't you just love me one more time?"

I pulled my hand away and told him, my voice calm and steady, "Victor, I don't want you anymore. This time, I'm choosing to love myself."

For thirty consecutive days, Victor had sent me extravagant, one-of-a-kind gifts.

Today, he burst through the door covered in blood, cradling a single, delicate flower in his hands. I recognized it. It was the same type of flower that had been the only splash of color in our bleak world that winter we lived under a bridge.

"Zoe, the flower, it bloomed again! I brought it back for you!"

His face was alight with a desperate hope, as if this single blossom could erase all the darkness between us.

I watched him, my expression a mask of ice. The light in his eyes slowly died. Without a word, he forced a smile, found a vase, and placed the flower on the windowsill where I often sat.

I wanted to tell him that his smile was more painful to look at than any tears.

Two of his bodyguards rushed in after him, their faces etched with anxiety. "Mr. Augustine, you're injured! You need to go to the hospital, now!"

A drop of blood trickled from his forehead and landed on a pristine white petal.

"Zoe, I'll wipe it off," he said, his voice frantic. His hands were smeared with blood. I remembered that winter, how he had tried to pick one of those flowers for me then, too. He'd scratched his hands and twisted his ankle in the process. I had thought those were scars of our love. Now I knew they were just part of the act, another scene in the play designed to win my devotion.

My gaze was cold. The crimson on the white petal was jarring.

"Don't bother," I said. "Once it's stained, it's stained." I turned to my housekeeper. "Mrs. Gable, throw it out."

Victors hand froze mid-air. His face went white as he watched Mrs. Gable take the vase and toss the flower out the window. He wanted to stop her, but he was powerless.

He turned back to me, that painful smile returning. "Zoe, I'll... I'll come back tomorrow?"

It was a placating question, an attempt to pretend this horror wasn't happening, just as he had always done after hurting me. The once-dashing tycoon, now covered in mud and blood, looked pathetic. I sighed, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

"Victor, don't come back. I never want to see you again."

He stumbled, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from his body. But his guards caught him, and he managed to straighten up, that awful smile still plastered on his face.

"You must be tired, Zoe. Get some rest."

Then, as if fearing another rejection, he practically fled.

Mrs. Gable looked from his retreating back to me, then went outside and retrieved the flower, placing it back on the windowsill.

"I don't know what happened between you two," she said, her tone reproachful, "but I can see that Mr. Augustine is truly sorry. He really loves you. Can't you find it in your heart to forgive him?"

I looked at her, my smile full of a weary sadness. "But, Mrs. Gable," I whispered, "I don't have the chance to forgive him anymore."

That very morning, I had lost my sense of taste completely.

Five years ago, two men stood before me, and I chose Victor.

We were together for five years. At our lowest, we lived under a bridge, scavenged for food, and slept under the open sky. I was with him through poverty and despair, all the way to his triumphant return, when he reclaimed his family's empire. For those five years, he would have given me the stars from the sky and the moon from the water. He made his devotion to me a public spectacle, a love so grand it overshadowed even the affection he had for his precious sister, Amelia.

I believed it was real.

Until...

The day I found out I was pregnant.

I rushed to find him, the test results clutched in my hand, ready to share the joyful surprise. But I found him with Amelia wrapped in his arms.

"Victor," she was saying, "Noah finally proposed! Thank you. If you hadn't sacrificed yourself to win over Zoe, I might have waited forever for this day!"

Victor stroked her hair, his smile gentle. "As long as you're happy, my sacrifice was worth it."

A lightning bolt struck, and all the strength drained out of me. The pregnancy test slipped from my fingers, but I felt nothing.

[Host, you have failed.]

Years ago, I had gone against the System's warnings and changed my mission target to him. The System had been clear: [He is not your destined one. Failure to complete the mission will result in your annihilation.]

I had traversed many worlds, completed many missions. This was the first time I had ever let personal feelings interfere. "I want to make a choice for myself, just once," I had told the System.

I lost. I accept that. But...

I laid a hand on my flat stomach. A new life was growing there, a life I had yearned for. "Can't you..."

[No! You know the rules!]

I laughed, covering my eyes as hot tears streamed through my fingers.

In the private room, everyone was celebrating Amelia's engagement and Victor's "liberation."

"Vic, once Amelia marries into the Sterling family, Zoe will be useless. What are you going to do with her?"

"Hey, how about you give her to me? I'm not ambitious. I just want a taste of the woman who could captivate Noah Sterling and keep you entertained for five years..."

"Get lost!"

Laughter filled the room.

My tears had run dry. I looked at the people inside and pushed the door open.

The room fell silent. When they saw it was me, strange, knowing smiles spread across their faces. I'd seen those smiles before, but only now did I understand their true meaning. It was the look of the wealthy elite observing a plaything they had tired of.

Victors hand, holding a glass of wine, paused. He looked at me, his eyes devoid of emotion.

"You heard?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Everything."

A brief, tense silence. Everyone looked at Victor, waiting to see how he would dispose of his "plaything."

He set his glass down, his voice cold and unfamiliar. "Two choices. One, take ten million dollars and disappear. Never show your face in front of Noah Sterling again. We go our separate ways."

"Or two..."

He paused, walking over to me. He gently stroked my hair, the coldness in his eyes replaced by a deep, seductive affection. "You can choose to stay with me. We'll pretend this never happened. I'll continue to be good to you."

The same old tenderness, as if nothing had changed.

Amelia couldn't help but let out a sneer. "Zoe, you really are pathetic."

Everyone, including Victor, probably thought I would choose the second option. After all, I had loved him so much. I had stayed with him when he had nothing, living under a bridge for six months, surviving on instant noodles for three, ruining my health to the point that getting pregnant was a miracle.

I looked at the man I had loved with all my heart for five years and managed a faint smile. I took a step back, out of the warmth of his hand, away from the embrace I had once craved.

"I choose option one."

The answer stunned everyone.

Victor's face changed, his hand freezing in mid-air before slowly clenching into a fist. By the time he tucked it into his pocket, his expression was once again cool and detached. I suppose it didn't really matter to him. One plaything gone, another could be found. He was a prince, after all, his pride untouchable.

"Since it's your choice, I respect it."

I walked out of that room like a zombie. ...

Back at the villa, I began to put my affairs in order.

That evening, Victor arrived with his friends to move his things out.

"This villa was bought for you," he said, his voice flat. "It's yours."

I didn't look up, just grunted in acknowledgment. He stood there for a long moment, waiting for a reaction. When he got none, he stormed upstairs, the sounds of him packing echoing through the house like angry thunder. I ignored it.

I was busy writing, trying to jot everything down before my memory failed me completely.

Mrs. Gable had taken care of this house for years. She was getting older and had arthritis. I would leave most of the cash to her, hoping she could live out her remaining years in comfort.

My neighbor, a woman starting her own business, needed designer clothes and bags to make a good impression. She had borrowed from me before, always returning them with a small gift, her face flushed with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. I understood her struggle. I had been there, too. Victor had bought me countless designer items over the years, most of which I'd never even used. They would all go to her.

The jewelry, I decided, would be donated to charity. I doubted Victor would object.

My biggest worry was Pip. He was a stray dog we'd adopted during our time under the bridge. A scruffy mutt of indeterminate heritage, with a perpetually messy coat, a bad temper, and a comical underbite. If I was gone, what would happen to him? Who would tolerate his moods, who would love him despite his scruffy appearance?

Pip and Victor had been close. I considered leaving him with Victor, but Amelia despised him. She only liked purebred show dogs and would openly kick Pip away if he got too close, even in front of me. If I were gone, all it would take was a word from her, and Victor would probably abandon him. Pip was old. How long would he survive on the streets?

I stroked the fur of the dog curled at my feet. "Maybe you should come with me, Pip? At least you wouldn't have to suffer anymore..."

For a moment, I understood the mothers in the news who took their own lives and their children's with them. I quickly pushed the horrifying thought away. I would ask my friends at the dog park. Surely one of them would take him.

Lastly, I signed an organ donation form. In the end, I would leave nothing of myself behind in this world.