Chapter 2

I ignored the whispers and the stares, focusing only on Vivian. I needed to try, one last time, to see if there was anything left of the woman I thought I was marrying.

"Vivian, can we talk? In private," I said, my voice low and steady. I was trying to hold on to the last thread of dignity they hadn't stripped from me yet.

She hesitated, glancing at Kyle, then at her friends. She was weighing her options, calculating how to control the situation with the least amount of public fallout.

"Ethan, we have guests," she said, her tone dismissive. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

"No, it can't wait," I insisted, taking a step closer. "We're getting married tomorrow. This can't wait."

I remembered all the dreams we had, the plans we made. I remembered designing this house for us, for the family we were supposed to have. The memories felt real, but they were built on a lie. They were the foundation of a building that was about to collapse.

Vivian sighed, a sound of pure annoyance. It was clear I was an inconvenience, a problem to be managed.

"Fine," she said, her voice sharp. "What is it, Ethan? You're making a scene."

She didn' t care that she was the one causing it. She didn't care that her lover' s arm was still loosely draped around her. She was blaming me, pushing the responsibility for her actions onto my shoulders.

"A scene?" I asked, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "You think I'm making a scene?"

Before I could say another word, Kyle stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of Vivian. He was a predator protecting his territory.

"Hey, man, back off," he said, his voice a low growl. "You heard her. You're ruining the party."

"This has nothing to do with you," I said, my eyes still on Vivian.

"It has everything to do with me," Kyle sneered, his lips curling. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "Because after she' s done with you tonight, after she wipes that angry look off your face, she' s coming back to me. Just like the last time. And the time before that. Remember that time in the lab? You walked in and I was..."

He described one of the erased memories with graphic, humiliating detail. He wanted to provoke me. He wanted to see me break. It worked.

A red haze clouded my vision. I didn't think. I just acted. I swung, my fist connecting with his jaw. The crack of bone on bone echoed in the suddenly silent kitchen. Kyle stumbled back, surprise and pain flashing in his eyes before they hardened with rage.

He was faster than me, younger. He lunged, tackling me to the ground. We crashed into a small table, sending glasses and plates shattering across the floor. Pain shot through my shoulder as it hit the hard tile. He was on top of me, his fists raining down. I tried to defend myself, but he was relentless. My head hit the floor, hard. The room spun.

"Kyle, stop it!" Vivian screamed, but her voice lacked any real urgency.

I managed to push him off me, scrambling to my feet. My lip was split, and I could taste blood. My head throbbed, a deep, pulsing ache. I looked at Vivian, my vision blurry. I needed her. I needed her to choose me, just this once.

"Vivian," I rasped, holding out a hand. "Help me."

She looked at me, lying there among the broken glass, bleeding. Then she looked at Kyle, who was breathing heavily, a small cut on his cheek from my one successful punch. Her choice was immediate.

She rushed to Kyle's side, ignoring me completely.

"Oh my god, Kyle, are you okay? Let me see," she said, her voice filled with the genuine concern she had denied me. She gently touched the cut on his face, her expression one of pure adoration and worry.

I was invisible. My pain didn't register. Her friends stood around, watching, their faces blank. No one moved to help me. No one said a word. I was alone, on the floor of my own home, bleeding, while my fiancée tended to her lover.

The last bit of hope inside me died. The coldness of the tile floor seeped into my bones, a chilling finality. This was it. There was nothing left to save.