Chapter 3

I began to develop a sick craving for Julian's bullying.

Because that was the only way I could justify running to Ethan.

And so, we spent over a decade together.

Year after year, I watched the love in my heart bloom into a dark, heavy flower.

But during my junior year of high school, Julian stole my lunch card and emptied every cent on it.

After all these years, tormenting me was still his favorite game.

But my tears had run dry. I had become numb.

He announced to the whole class, "My sister is buying Starbucks for everyone today! Grab whatever you want!"

He knew I wouldn't make a scene. I didn't have the power to.

My eyes were blurry with hunger, but my heart fluttered with the joy of having an excuse to see Ethan.

With a smile on my face, I pushed open his bedroom door.

But before I could step in, a sweet scent of grapefruit hit my nose.

Behind the grand piano, two figures were pressed together.

The sound of wet, breathless kissing filled the quiet room.

"Ethan, stop... someone’s here," a soft, breathless female voice murmured.

It was a beautiful, young voice. It was quiet, but standing at the door, I heard every syllable.

I instantly knew what was happening.

It sounded just like the bad boys and girls kissing in the school alleys.

Ethan was kissing another woman.

The smile on my face slowly died.

I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and wild, bordering on insane.

The room was dimly lit. I stood frozen in the doorway. The room fell silent.

I knew they were waiting for me to be smart enough to leave.

"Where did Ethan go?" I asked loudly, mimicking a clueless girl, and took a heavy step inside.

The breathing in the room hitched.

"Oh, I guess he’s not here."

I pretended I had seen nothing, slowly pulling the door shut.

Inside, a raspy, low voice whispered, "See? I told you she didn't hear anything."

"Vivian... let's keep going, okay?"

I stood by the oak tree outside Ethan's house until midnight.

What were they doing in there? Kissing her nose, her lips, biting her neck? What else?

The jealousy taking root in my chest sent a sharp, agonizing pain through my heart—a pain worse than any blow Julian had ever dealt me.

Ethan was the golden boy, the envy of everyone.

I had been by his side for years, and I had never seen him look at a girl.

He never touched women.

So I had proudly told myself that I was the closest girl to him.

But what if someone else had already claimed him?

The cigarette butt burned my fingertips. I looked at the pile of ashes at my feet and let out a silent, cold laugh.

To wash away the bitter taste in my mouth, I pulled a sour candy from my pocket and popped it in.

Orange flavor. Sour.

When life is bitter, you always crave something sweet.

But things never go your way.

I forced myself to stop thinking and waited for the woman to come out.

I needed to see what kind of woman had captured Ethan's heart.

The biting wind whipped my face, but when Vivian’s face appeared in the streetlight, my heart sank to the freezing ground.

She was Mrs. Vance’s younger sister—my step-aunt. A brilliant graduate from an Ivy League school, and Ethan’s private tutor.

She was indeed beautiful, vibrant, and incredibly kind.

Vivian never forgot to buy me Christmas gifts, and she never ignored me like Mrs. Vance did. But she was ten years older than Ethan.

That night, I smashed every gift she had ever given me. I ripped them to shreds and threw them in the trash.

Whatever affection I had for her turned into pure, unadulterated hatred the moment she stole Ethan.

I spent almost all my savings hiring a private investigator to take photos of them.

I didn't care if I had to starve myself.

A few days later, Julian stole my lunch card again.

"Give it back," I said, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. It was the first time I had ever looked him in the eye.

"Oh? You're actually talking back to me now? Look who got a backbone."

This time, I fought him like a wild animal.

My sharp nails dug into his face. I held a utility knife, hovering just an inch from his eye. In Julian’s terrified dark eyes, I saw my own reflection—a raving lunatic.

For the first time in his life, he backed down.

I won the fight, but I couldn't escape the punishment from my stepparents.

The night I was forced to kneel at the foot of the stairs, Ethan didn't show up.

In the past, whenever I was punished, he would secretly send a maid with ointment.

But that night, he was in the pool with Vivian.

Looking at the photos the PI sent me, I carefully cut Ethan's face out. As for Vivian, I crumpled her face, tore it to pieces, and stabbed it repeatedly with a knife.

I hated her. I hated her for stealing my light.

I opened the metal box hidden deep in my closet.

It was filled with little things Ethan had given me over the years—my deepest, darkest desires.

I calmly pulled out a tube of ointment that was almost empty.

I sliced my own knee with a knife, and then carefully applied the cream.

"Ethan, you do care about me."

"Only when I'm hurt, you show up."

I stared at the empty doorway with hope. But after a minute, my smile crumbled.

I threw the metal box across the room. In this tiny, suffocating room, I didn't even have the courage to scream.

He wasn't coming. My sun had been stolen by a filthy thief.

I packed up all the evidence.

I dropped the thick envelope of photos into the Sinclair family's mailbox. I took off my gloves and adjusted my hood.

It was going to snow again.

This year, there wouldn't be a third person standing between us.

No one can steal...

My sun.