His Belated Confession

The night before our engagement party, I accidentally broke the crystal ball Olivia had given him.

His eyes turned bloodshot. He slapped me across the face.

In that moment, something inside me cracked.

I said, “Leo, we’re done.”

He laughed wildly.

“Fine! Let’s see if you even have the guts not to marry me!”

Marrying Leo had been my only dream for the past ten years.

But in the end, he was the one who got down on his knees and begged me to stay.

—

Crash!!

The sharp sound of glass shattering made my heart skip a beat.

I turned my head and saw the crystal ball lying in glimmering ruins on the hardwood floor, having slipped from its brass stand on the desk.

Under the spotlight, the scattered fragments looked like a field of broken diamonds.

It was the only gift Olivia had ever given Leo, a souvenir from her study abroad semester in Prague.

I’d seen him countless times late at night, alone in his study, turning that crystal ball gently in his hands, his gaze drifting far away.

I didn’t have time to think. I dropped to my knees, trying to gather the shards. But just then, Leo walked in.

He stood at the doorway, his expression so dark it felt like the air in the room had turned to ice. The pressure dropped instantly.

He was furious.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say a word, his rage rolled over me like a tidal wave.

“Fix it!”

“It wasn’t me—”

“Mia, do you not even have the courage to admit your own mistake?” He stormed forward and yanked me up from the floor. I lost my balance, nearly stepping on the sharp glass.

My eyes stung. My chest felt like it was being crushed under a boulder. I couldn’t breathe.

It really wasn’t me who broke it.

But at this point, whether I did or not—it didn’t matter anymore.

“We’re getting married in a few days. What more do you want?”

“Why do you keep pushing my limits?”

“You know how much it meant to me!”

Leo took several angry breaths. Then he dropped to his knees, frantically trying to pick up the broken pieces as if he could undo what had happened. He left me standing there, bleeding from a cut in my palm where a shard had sliced through the skin. Blood beaded and dripped onto the floor.

It felt like Olivia was punishing me from beyond the room.

For a moment, I couldn’t tell which hurt more—the sting in my hand or the ache in my heart.

Of course. If Olivia hadn’t taken that job in London after graduation, I never would’ve become Leo’s fiancée.

Ten years could change a lot—but not the fact that he never loved me.

“It wasn’t me,” I said quietly, setting the bloodstained shard aside. The red shimmered through the crystal, strangely beautiful and haunting.

“I didn’t break it.”

He was still furious. Hearing that only made him scoff. He threw the shard he’d just picked up back at my feet.

“If you can’t fix it, then get on your knees and pick up every last piece.”

He saw my bleeding hand. He just didn’t care. This was punishment.

He didn’t believe me.

“For a crystal ball, Leo? You’d treat me like this over a crystal ball?”

I tried to stay calm, to talk things through. But he didn’t give me the chance.

“You’re saying you didn’t knock it off? So what—did it grow legs and jump off the desk?”

“You’re so jealous of her, you can’t even bear to see the things she left behind!”

“So you’re furious with me over something from a girl who isn’t even here?” My voice finally broke, all my resentment pouring out.

“We’re about to get married, and you still cling to her memory like she’s the love of your life!”

“Leo, get it together—who’s your fiancée here?”

Smack.

The air froze.

My face whipped to the side. My hair stuck to my cheek, the heat and pain blooming across my skin in seconds. It swelled almost instantly.

I turned back slowly, in disbelief.

His eyes were still red with fury. Veins bulged on his forehead.

He’d really hit me.

“You don’t have to be,” he said coldly.

I staggered, barely catching myself on the bookshelf behind me.

Suddenly, I just felt tired.

“Leo, let’s break up.”

He shattered our future with one slap.

Shattered the last of my love—and the last of my dignity.

“You want to call off the wedding?” He pointed at me and burst out laughing.

“You think I even want to marry you?”

“I only pitied you!”

The blood on my palm had begun to dry. I peeled the scab open again, welcoming the fresh sting.

“Go ahead. Don’t marry me. Just don’t come crawling back!”

“Alright.”

I smiled, kicked the glass out of my way, and walked out of the room without looking back.