Rebirth: Love me Again

[ESTELLE]

I didn't know where I stood anymore. Were we still dating? Was I technically single? Was I emotionally attached to a man who might now consider me a distant stranger?

Was I back to square one?

Back to stalking him again?

Damn it.

So, I did what any reasonable woman would do in my situation.

I dressed up.

I put on my best dress—short, sparkly, tight in the right places, and 10% morally questionable. Paired it with heels that defied gravity and dignity. Threw on enough perfume to seduce an entire department store and set off to a charity gala I knew Damien would attend.

If I couldn't reach him at home, I'd ambush him in public.

Classic move.

The venue was glitzy, all glass chandeliers and overpriced hors d'oeuvres I couldn't pronounce. But I wasn't here for the ambiance.

I scanned the room.

And then—I saw him.

Damien Cole Frizkiel.

There he was, standing like a Greek god under the light, tall, aloof, so painfully beautiful I almost forgot he ghosted me for a month. Almost. But there was one slight problem.

He wasn't alone.

Next to him was someone I did not expect.

Kelsey.

What the ever-loving hell was she doing here?!

I froze mid-step. I wasn't ready for a two-player boss fight. I needed time to regroup, adjust eyeliner, plan my approach—but then she did the unthinkable.

She grabbed his hand.

Intertwined it like it was hers. Like she had the right. And then—smiled. Smiled at the room, at the guests, at me. Oh, she saw me. That smile was aimed with sniper-like precision.

"Yes," she said loudly, clearly wanting every single person to hear, "I've accepted Damien's proposal! Do expect some wedding invitations soon."

She laughed.

People cheered.

And I—well, I was rooted to the spot like someone had turned me into a decorative tree. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't understand.

Proposal? Wedding?

WEDDING?!

Was I dead? Had I been in a coma? Did I miss an entire romantic arc between them? The last I heard, Kelsey was still crying over her split ends and begging for Instagram brand deals. Now she's engaged to my man?!

I blinked. Once. Twice. Nope, still there.

Damien didn't say a word. He didn't correct her. He just stood there—stoic, blank-faced, like someone had stuffed his emotions into a drawer.

I laughed nervously, hoping this was all a joke. A prank. Maybe a publicity stunt? Yeah, that had to be it. Maybe they were faking it. Maybe he was secretly plotting a surprise proposal for me later. Right?

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I had been replaced.

Thrown aside like last season's fashion trend. And the worst part?

I didn't even get a memo.

I stood there, surrounded by glittering gowns and champagne glasses, trying not to cry in my lashes. My hands clenched at my sides as Kelsey blew a kiss at me like some Disney villain in heels.

Oh no. Oh hell no.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

Because if Damien Fay thought he could ghost me, let his long-lost sister block me, and then let Kelsey-with-the-boring-hair take my place?

Then he had no idea what kind of ex-girlfriend-still-maybe-girlfriend woman he was dealing with.

Then Kelsey stood on her toes and kissed Damien on the lips.

It was so soft, so natural, I almost believed it was rehearsed. Like some tragic scene lifted out of a film where the girl wins, and the other girl—me—stands off-screen with a plastic smile and a glass of something cold that suddenly tastes like ash.

I couldn't move. My feet felt like they were bolted to the marble floor, my limbs refusing to cooperate, as if even my own body was embarrassed for me.

And then—then he smiled at her. That smile. The one I thought was mine. The one I used to see in the mornings when he'd lazily pull me into his arms, whispering nonsense about dreams and breakfast. The one that made me believe—just for a while—that maybe I was the one.

But in that moment, watching them, I realized something I should've known long ago.

Damien had never truly chosen me.

He had lingered with me. Smiled. Touched. Whispered promises too fragile to last. But love? That wasn't what it was. I was the interlude. The in-between. A beautiful distraction while he waited for the one his heart had already claimed a thousand times over.

Kelsey.

It was always her.

Suddenly, the sound around me faded—the murmurs of nearby conversations, the clink of glasses, the distant, upbeat music meant to make this moment feel less tragic. All of it drowned beneath the roar of my own thoughts spiraling into something dark and suffocating.

I couldn't breathe. My tears spilling over. Not here. Not now.

I turned on my heel before they could see my face—before Damien could notice the devastation he had just etched into my features. If he had looked at me then, really looked, he might've seen it—the way my heart shattered behind my eyes, the way everything I'd built in my head came crashing down with a single kiss and a smile that wasn't mine.

But he didn't look.

He didn't call after me.

He was too busy looking at her.

I stormed out of the venue and caught the first car back to the apartment. No dramatic exit. No tears. Not yet. I stared out the window in silence, my hands trembling slightly in my lap as the city passed by like a blur. I didn't even take off my heels when I stumbled into the penthouse—we used to call it "ours," but tonight it felt like a stranger's home.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, and just like that, the dam broke.

I leaned back against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold tiles of the foyer floor, staring up at the ceiling like it held answers. My chest hurt. Like something sharp was lodged inside, twisting every time I tried to inhale.

I had always known, hadn't I?

But I was just an idiot and stubborn not to back down knowing still that there was no chance.