Farewell to False Love

Five years into our relationship, a catastrophic earthquake struck, forcing Declan to make a life-or-death choice.

He completely ignored my crushed leg. Instead, he frantically clawed through the rubble to dig out his childhood sweetheart, a girl who barely had a scratch on her.

He threw a bank card onto my chest. "There is a million dollars on this. It is more than enough to cover your amputation and let you live out the rest of your life in comfort."

"Don't ever contact us again. Alice is easily frightened, and seeing an amputee will give her nightmares."

I didn't scream or cry. I simply watched him scoop her into his arms and sprint toward the medical tents without a single backward glance.

Meanwhile, I was left alone in the dirt, surviving the terrifying aftershocks and losing my leg just to stay alive.

One year later, walking on a high-tech prosthetic, I ran into Declan at a luxury charity gala.

He gripped my wrist like a vice, his voice trembling violently. "Aria... you are alive? I only saved her first because I thought her injuries were fatal!"

He pleaded that his hands were tied, begging me for just one more chance to make it right.

I smiled, gracefully peeling his fingers off my arm. "That is unfortunate. I am already married, and I just found out I am pregnant with twins."

The aftershocks of the massive earthquake had barely faded when David threw the glossy black bank card onto my dust-covered chest.

All around us, the terrifying sound of snapping concrete and the distant screams of trapped survivors filled the air.

My right leg was pinned beneath a massive concrete slab. The flesh was mutilated beyond recognition. I had long since lost all feeling below my knee.

"The pin is your birthday."

David did not even bother to bend down. His arms were wrapped tightly around a trembling Alice.

Alice had a superficial scrape on her cheek. A few tiny beads of blood welled up from the scratch.

"David, I'm so scared. We need to leave right now, the roof is going to cave in again."

Alice buried her face into the crook of his neck. Her voice was soft, fragile, and quivering with tears.

David immediately tightened his grip on her. When his eyes flicked down to me, they held nothing but impatience and disgust.

"Did you hear me, Aria? A million dollars. That buys out the last five years we spent together."

"That money is more than enough for you to get an amputation at a top-tier hospital. You can buy a high-end prosthetic and move to some quiet suburban town. You'll live a comfortable life."

I gasped for air. My lungs felt like they were lined with crushed glass, and every breath tasted like copper and blood.

I stared at the man I had loved for five long years.

He was Manhattan's golden boy, the heir to a massive empire. He always wore a mask of cold indifference to the world, reserving his rare moments of warmth solely for me.

I used to think that warmth was love.

Now I realized I was nothing more than a convenient, well-behaved stand-in. He only dated me because his childhood sweetheart had moved to Europe.

Now that his true love was back, and we were staring death in the face, the stand-in naturally became dead weight.

"Are you really going to leave?" I asked, my voice completely hoarse, fighting to keep my tone steady. "With my leg trapped like this, I might not survive until the rescue teams get here."

David frowned, his jaw tightening as if weighing his options.

Right on cue, Alice let out a pathetic little whimper. "David, I think the concrete is shifting again..."

The color drained from David's face. He shot me one final, chilling look.

"If you're meant to live, you'll survive. If you don't make it, that's just fate."

"Alice is easily frightened. Seeing you covered in all this blood is going to give her nightmares. Don't ever show your face to us again."

Without a single ounce of hesitation, he turned his back on me. He carried Alice over the jagged ruins and sprinted toward the flashing lights of the emergency responders in the distance.

He never looked back.

I lay alone in the freezing rubble, my fingers curling tightly around the bloodstained bank card.

What an absolute joke.

Five years of devotion and my right leg, all traded for a million dollars.

David probably thought he took a massive loss on this deal. I thought I made a profit.

Finding out the man you loved was a heartless animal is an expensive lesson to learn.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the chaotic shouting above me.

"We've got a survivor down here! She's pinned under a structural beam!"

"Bring the stretcher! Now!"

Blinding flashlight beams hit my face, forcing my eyes shut.

I forced my cracked lips to move, speaking to the blurry silhouettes above me. "Thank you. I'm not dead yet."

Just before the darkness took me, I heard a paramedic's grim voice. "The leg is completely crushed. We have to amputate right now."

That was fine.

Whether it was a useless leg or a worthless man, rotting things needed to be cut off completely.

When I woke up, I was staring at the canvas ceiling of a temporary military hospital tent.

The anesthesia had worn off. The space where my right leg used to be was entirely empty, yet a bone-deep, agonizing phantom pain flared through my nerves.

It felt like thousands of ants were chewing through my nerve endings, constantly reminding me that I was permanently disabled.

A nurse was changing my bandages. Seeing my eyes open, her own eyes welled with tears.

"You are so incredibly brave, honey. You didn't make a single sound during the entire operation."

I wanted to smile, but my facial muscles were stiff and unresponsive.

I wasn't brave. My heart was just so completely shattered that my body forgot how to process physical pain.

An older man in the cot next to mine let out a heavy sigh and handed me a peeled orange segment.

"As long as you're breathing, you're winning. There is always hope."

I took the orange and popped it into my mouth.

The citrus was so intensely sour that tears immediately streamed down my face.

I reached for my phone on the bedside table. The cell service was spotty at best.

I opened Twitter, expecting to see news about the earthquake casualties. Instead, the number one trending hashtag completely paralyzed me.

[Manhattan Elite Heir Shows True Love in Earthquake Debris, Refuses to Abandon Girlfriend].

Attached was a grainy photo taken in the dark.

Against the backdrop of the ruined resort, David was fiercely shielding Alice in his arms. His eyes were wide with panic and profound devotion.

The comment section was throwing a massive parade for them.

[Oh my god, this is cinematic true love. Standing together in the face of death!]

[I need a man who makes me feel this safe. He is literally a knight in shining armor.]

[Wishing them a lifetime of happiness. Real love thrives in tragedy!]

Scrolling further, I finally spotted a single, dissenting comment.

[Am I crazy, or didn't David have a long-term girlfriend he's been dating for five years? Where is she?]

A verified account immediately replied beneath it.

[Oh, her? I heard she was so terrified of dying that she pushed people out of the way and ran off by herself. Alice actually got injured because she refused to leave David's side.]

[Trash women like that deserve to be dumped. Good riddance.]

I locked my phone, my stomach churning violently.

I was the coward who ran away?

Alice's ability to completely invert reality was truly a masterclass in manipulation.

She was the one who threw a tantrum and forced David to bring her to this specific mountain resort for the weekend. When the earthquake hit, I was the one who physically shoved David under the reinforced doorframe, taking the direct hit from the collapsing ceiling.

And now, I was the villain who abandoned my lover.

Incredible.

I stared down at the flat, empty space beneath my hospital blanket. The tiny trace of sorrow left in my chest completely evaporated, replaced by a freezing, calculated rage.

David. Alice.

We had a massive debt to settle, and I was going to collect every single penny.

A month later, I was transferred to a top-tier private hospital back in the city.

The million dollars, combined with my own savings, was more than enough to afford a private luxury suite and the best physical therapists in the country.

The doctors told me my stump was healing perfectly, and I was ready to begin fitting for a prosthetic.

Rehab was a brutal, endless nightmare.

During the adjustment period, the friction from the socket rubbed the scarred skin of my stump raw. Every single step felt like walking barefoot on shattered glass.

But I never shed a single tear.

Compared to the suffocating despair of being buried alive beneath concrete, this pain was absolutely nothing.

One afternoon, I was walking through the hospital's private garden, heavily leaning on my forearm crutches.

A young man was sitting on a park bench. His right arm was encased in a thick plaster cast, suspended by a sling around his neck.

He was screaming into his phone, looking absolutely feral.

"I'm not going! If the old man wants to go on a blind date, he can marry her himself! My arm is literally broken, and he wants me to go network for a corporate marriage?"

"It's broken! I'm going to be a one-armed bandit! Can you just find me a nurse to bring me a beer instead?"

"I don't give a damn about the family business! I want to race my cars! I want to live my life!"

He aggressively ended the call and chucked his brand-new iPhone onto the manicured grass.

He looked up, huffing like an angry bull, and locked eyes with me.

He had an obnoxiously handsome face, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, though he looked like he severely lacked common sense.

Realizing I was staring, he blinked, the tips of his ears turning a faint shade of red.

"What are you looking at? Never seen a gorgeous guy throw a tantrum before?"

His tone was aggressive, like a golden retriever trying to act tough.

The next day, I ran into the human golden retriever again.

My physical therapist told me his name was Jaxon Cole, the youngest son of the absurdly wealthy Cole family.

He was a victim of his own good intentions. During the earthquake, he had driven up to the disaster zone to volunteer with the rescue teams. A secondary landslide crushed his arm with a boulder, landing him in this hospital for the past month.

His elite family was constantly pressuring him to take over the corporate empire, but he was obsessed with extreme sports and professional racing. He was currently staging a dramatic runaway attempt from his own family.

His backstory sounded remarkably familiar.

I ignored him and focused on placing one crutch in front of the other.

But Jaxon was apparently the type of person who had never met a stranger in his life. Or maybe he was just bored out of his mind.

He walked over, picked up one of my resting crutches, and swung it around like a golf club.

"Hey, how did you lose it?" He pointed down at my leg.

If anyone else had asked me that so bluntly, I would have swung my remaining crutch at their head.

But his eyes were entirely clear. It was pure, unfiltered curiosity. There was no pity, no malice, and no awkward tiptoeing.

"Earthquake. Crushed by a ceiling," I said flatly.

"No way, me too." He tapped his plaster cast. "But I got hurt pulling people out. Let me guess, you were one of the people getting pulled out?"

"You could say that," I replied, not bothering to explain the betrayal.

"That prosthetic leg looks insane, though. You look like the Terminator." He squatted down, genuinely fascinated as he inspected the sleek, exposed carbon-fiber shaft of my new leg.

I couldn't help but laugh at his absurdity. "Looking cool is useless. I can't even run."

"Who says you need to run? Once my arm heals, I'll take you out to the track. You don't need a right leg to drift a sports car."

Jaxon thumped his chest proudly, which instantly jolted his broken arm. He hissed in pain, his face contorting into a grimace.

Just like that, we became bizarre hospital friends.

He never shut up. He complained constantly, told terrible jokes, and spent hours roasting his strict older brother.

Having him around made the grueling, agonizing rehab sessions significantly more tolerable.

Just when I thought my life was finally stabilizing into a peaceful routine, the past decided to crawl out of the gutter to ruin my day.

I was at an upscale mall shopping for shoes.

Because of my prosthetic, I only needed to try the shoe on my left foot.

The sales associate was incredibly sweet, bringing out a pair of soft, flat-soled leather loafers for me.

Just as I slipped my foot into the shoe, a sickeningly familiar voice echoed behind me.

"David, look at these heels! Aren't they gorgeous? But do you think wearing flats would make my legs look too short?"

I froze completely.

The floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of me reflected two figures walking into the boutique.

David was wearing a bespoke tailored suit, looking every bit the pristine aristocrat.

Alice was clinging to his bicep, dressed in a flowing white sundress. The absolute picture of a fragile, innocent saint.

Of all the boutiques in Manhattan, they had to walk into this one.

I had zero energy for their drama. I grabbed my purse and stood up, ready to pay and leave.

But Alice's eyes were like radar. She spotted me instantly.

"Oh my gosh, is that Aria?"

She dramatically covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes darted down to my exposed prosthetic leg. A flash of twisted satisfaction danced in her eyes, but she immediately arranged her features into a mask of pure terror.

"Oh my god, your leg... you really had it amputated? It looks so terrifying. It's like a robot part."

She shrank backward, burying her face into David's chest, acting as if my very existence was a horror movie.

David's gaze swept over my mechanical leg, his eyebrows instantly knitting into a tight, disgusted knot.

"Aria, didn't I explicitly tell you to stay out of our sight?"

"You know Alice is incredibly sensitive. Are you walking around like that just to purposely give her a panic attack?"

A dry, harsh laugh escaped my throat.

Did he think his family owned the entire city?

I turned around, my eyes locking onto the two of them with absolute zero-degree hostility.

"That's a fascinating perspective, David. Last time I checked, the earth doesn't revolve around your ego. I'm just here buying shoes. How exactly does my presence traumatize your fragile little princess?"

"And please, spare me the theatrics. She looks perfectly healthy going on a luxury shopping spree. I thought she was on her deathbed back in the rubble?"

Alice's face turned completely pale. Tears pooled in her eyes on command.

"Aria, I know you hate the fact that David saved me first. But it was a life-or-death emergency... do you really have to be so cruel and aggressive?"

The other wealthy shoppers in the boutique started whispering, throwing judgmental glances my way.

"Wow, what is her problem? The girl literally apologized."

"Right? I mean, it's sad that she's disabled, but she doesn't have to guilt-trip them like a psycho."

Hearing the crowd take his side, David's posture straightened. He looked down at me like a god judging a peasant.

He pulled out his wallet, slipped out a sleek black titanium credit card, and tossed it onto the glass display counter.

"I am buying every single pair of shoes in this boutique. Except for the cheap ones she has on her feet. Aria, take your garbage and get the hell out of here. Stop polluting our air."

The heavy metal card spun on the glass, making a sharp, mocking sound.

It was a perfect reenactment of the day he threw the bank card on my dying body.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, drawing crescent moons of blood. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the absolute freezing hatred in my chest.

This was the man I gave five years of my life to.

To save him, I sacrificed a piece of my body and almost bled to death in the dirt.

And now, just to make his manipulative new girlfriend smile, he was perfectly willing to strip away my dignity and stomp on it in public.

The sales associate looked completely panicked, glancing between the black card and my face.

"Sir, we have a policy of first-come, first-served. This lady was already purchasing this pair..."

"Shut up and swipe the card," David ordered, not even looking at the employee.

"I want the entire inventory. Everything except what she's touching."

Alice tugged at his sleeve, putting on her best empathetic, angelic voice.

"David, don't be so harsh on her. Aria is physically disabled now. Her mental state must be so fragile and insecure."

"Those loafers are incredibly cheap and poorly made, they totally don't fit our lifestyle anyway. But to Aria, they might be the only thing she can afford. Let's not fight her over trash."

She took a deliberate step back, raising a silk handkerchief to her nose as if my proximity carried a disease. Her eyes lingered on the metallic joint of my prosthetic for one second too long.

"Life as a cripple is hard enough. It's totally normal for her to wear bargain bin shoes. Let her have them, she's pathetic enough as it is."

The crowd of onlookers grew larger by the second.

David let out a cold, arrogant scoff.

"Did you hear that, Aria? My Alice is an absolute saint. Consider this an act of charity."

I took a slow, deep breath.

Hold it in?

Screw that.

If you give sociopaths an inch, they will bury you alive.

I reached out and grabbed the soft leather loafer off the display. If he loved throwing money around so much, I was going to introduce the heel of this shoe directly to his arrogant face.

My arm tensed, ready to swing.

Before I could launch the shoe, a large hand wrapped in white medical bandages suddenly slammed down onto the glass counter, pinning David's titanium card in place.

A lazy, highly amused, and utterly arrogant voice echoed through the quiet boutique.

"Well, well. If it isn't the great David. Running around in broad daylight playing Sugar Daddy?"