Chapter 2: The Genesis of Betrayal

Elliott's breath hitched audibly. He didn't ask for details.

"…Understood. Stand by for my message. Keep your line open."

I leaned back in the cold chair, staring vacantly at the expensive Steinway in the music room. This house, this cage built from my love and talent that had produced the cruelest joke, would soon be nothing to me.

The cut on my finger and the void in my heart ached dully.

Closing my eyes, I was met with endless darkness, and all the moments over the past five years I had noticed but dismissed with foolish hope.

Five years ago, the three of us graduated together.

Amid deafening applause and cheers, I stood at the edge of the stage in my cap and gown, my palms slightly sweaty with nerves and anticipation. The spotlight was on me. Below were countless familiar faces, the proud smiles of my parents, and—standing in the front row, in a sharp suit, holding flowers—Adrien.

After the dean moved Adrien's tassel, he took the microphone, his gaze sweeping tenderly across the crowd. My heart hammered as if trying to escape my throat.

"Today is an immensely important day for me," he began, his voice deep and pleasing, with an intoxicating magnetism. His eyes locked onto a specific direction, but it wasn't toward me. "The most important person in my life is here right now."

I shyly looked down, ready to receive my moment.

"Olivia," his voice rang out clearly, like a thunderclap splitting the noise, "you are the most beautiful, most unexpected blessing in my life."

My head snapped up, disbelief washing over me. The spotlight followed him as he walked straight to Olivia, seated diagonally behind me. He dropped to one knee, opening a blue velvet box containing a dazzling diamond ring.

"I ask you, marry me. Be my wife, let me protect you for a lifetime."

The hall erupted! All eyes swung from Adrien and Olivia on stage to me, rooted to the spot, stunned. Shock, pity, schadenfreude… it felt like countless needles stabbing into me.

I felt stripped naked and thrown into a blizzard, immense humiliation and heartbreak making it hard to breathe.

Olivia covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide as if in utter shock. She looked at me flustered, her eyes innocent and panicked: "Kayla?! Oh my god! What is this? Adrien, what are you saying?!"

She turned to me, her voice tearful, "Kayla! You have to believe me! I really didn't know—"

The world crumbled and spun before my eyes. I fled that suffocating auditorium almost on instinct.

A week later. I hid at home like a ghost. The doorbell rang countless times; I ignored it. Until Adrien's hoarse, agonized voice came from outside: "Kayla! Please open the door! Let me explain! I know I deserve to die!"

I finally opened the door. He stood there, unshaven, eyes sunken, holding a huge bouquet of my favorite white roses, his eyes filled with thick, palpable "remorse."

"Kayla!" He rushed in, gripping my hands tightly, his strength frightening, his voice choked. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I've made a terrible mistake! With Olivia—it was just a momentary lapse, I misunderstood my feelings for you, I thought she was my true love—"

He dropped to one knee, looking up at me, tears falling. "But I've figured it out now—only you, Kayla, only you are the meaning of my life! Let me spend my lifetime atoning, proving my love to you!"

Looking into his tear-filled eyes, hearing his earnest pleas, my shattered heart actually kindled a pathetic flicker of hope amidst the despair.

Maybe—maybe he really was just momentarily confused? Maybe he truly regretted it?

Olivia, her eyes red and swollen, also appeared at my door.

She rushed forward and hugged me tightly, crying hysterically: "Kayla! I'm so sorry! I really didn't know this would happen! Don't blame Adrien, he was confused, it's all my fault!"

She sobbed, "Seeing you two like this because of me hurts worse than death, you know I've always wished you well… You believe me."

Her tears and "sincere" words were like a thin veil, temporarily shrouding my doubts. Seeing her "agonized and remorseful" appearance, I actually softened. I chose to "forgive."

Adrien and I got married. Even though my parents were strongly against it, they ultimately couldn't sway my stubbornness—Olivia, as my maid of honor, witnessed our vows.

Back then, I thought life had returned to its most familiar state. Family care and protection, a happy marriage, friends by my side.

Except—the marriage always felt somewhat lonely and cold. Aside from our wedding night, Adrien often seemed distant and reserved.

Every time I mustered courage, with desire and a hint of shyness, gently approached Adrien lying beside me, my fingers tentatively stroking his firm chest.

His body would always stiffen noticeably. Then, he would gently but firmly grasp my wrist and move it away.

"Baby," his voice would sound in the darkness, still gentle, yet carrying an undeniable distance, "you're too precious. Like rare crystal, needing the most perfect moment to be unveiled."

He would turn over, his gentle expression blurry in the dark. "I don't want to ruin this purity hastily, and I don't want you to suffer the pains of childbirth. Let's wait, okay? Wait for us—wait for a, perfect moment."

I'd freeze, my outstretched hand awkwardly suspended mid-air, forced to smile and say, "Okay."

Then my heart would sink, bit by bit. Again. Since marriage, every time I tried to get close, he always had a perfect excuse—"treasure," "perfect moment," "spiritual connection." These magnificent excuses were like layers of ice encasing him, isolating me.

And that family gathering. I had carefully chosen an emerald necklace to match a new dress. Olivia "accidentally" spilled red wine on my gown.

"Oh my god! Kayla! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She apologized profusely, flusteredly dabbing with napkins. "It's all my clumsiness, this dress was expensive, right? I should pay for it."

Barely containing my annoyance, before I could speak, Adrien immediately stepped in to smooth things over, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible reproach: "It's fine, Kayla? You don't mind. Right, Kayla?"

He looked at me, his eyes urging me to be "magnanimous." The relatives' gazes also held approving nods, as if making a fuss would be my fault.

After that, time and again, I could sense Adrien speaking up for her at certain moments. He'd say—"It's my fault she's seen as the homewrecker among friends, I owe her this" and "Kayla, I just want others to see you as perfect as I see you."

These seemingly reasonable words deceived me again and again. Now, they felt like poison-tipped daggers, repeatedly stabbing my already riddled heart.

My eyes snapped open, gasping for air as if struggling up from deep water. Cold sweat soaked my back, the cut on my cheek stinging from tensed muscles.

It wasn't my imagination! Never was!

Adrien! He knew the truth from the very beginning! He married me just to provide Olivia a "safe" identity cover, shielding her from the "other woman" label!

He used the lie of "treasuring" me to cover up his indifference and rejection. He cooperated with Olivia, step by step shaping me into the image of a "sensitive," "suspicious," "possessive," even "achievement-stealing" resentful wife.

And I, a complete and utter fool! Blinded by their performance for five years! Nourishing their hypocrisy and schemes with all my love and trust.

And the moment of truth revelation—was not far away!