Chapter 1 The Breaking Point
I gave Carlo Neller seven years of my life–and all of my heart.
When he lost the family power struggle and ended up paralyzed, even his glamorous fiancée walked out on him.
But I stayed.
Against my grandfather’s wishes, I took a leave from school just to be by his side.
I cooked his meals, pushed his wheelchair, rebuilt his shattered career from scratch. I even paid for the world’s top surgeons to attempt his
recovery.
And every time he looked at me, he’d say,
“Kathryn, I swear–I’ll never let you down.”
The day he stood up again without assistance. I cried with joy.
I bought flowers. A ring.
And I was going to propose,
But outside the hospital entrance, I froze,
There he was–holding Monica Basom in his arms, the same woman who left him when he was broken.
His voice was clear:
“Kathryn? She’s just a maid. How could I ever love her?”
Chapter 1 The Breaking Paint
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
My fingers went cold. My chest tightened. But I didn’t cry,
I tossed the flowers and ring into the trash.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed the doctor.
“Cancel Carlo’s final surgery, please.”
***
IN
“Ms. Fermor, the most important thing in life is to know your place. With your status, you’re still far from being able to get into the Neller family.”
Monica gracefully swirled the red wine in her glass, her words dripping with condescending superiority.
“You’re clinging to Carlo for money. After all these years, you must have made a fortune. Take my advice–a smart person knows when to quit while they’re ahead.”
I looked at Monica with amusement.
She had left Carlo without a backward glance when he was paralyzed. But as soon as he stood up, she rushed to find him.
“How dare someone like her accuse me of being after money?” I thought to myself.
“Ms. Basom, this is a matter between Carlo and me. I don’t think it’s your place to interfere.”
Monica’s expression shifted as she forcefully placed the wine glass on the
table.
“Kathryn, you should understand your position. Carlo loves me, and we’re
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tying the knot soon.”
That’s how things stood,
My heart tightened, and I nervously curled my fingers.
Noticing this, Monica grinned with satisfaction.
“If you doubt me, I’ll show you. Just wait and see.”
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When she departed, she brimmed with confidence and arrogance, leaving me utterly unsettled.
Once back home, I nestled into the couch, scrolling through countless photos on my phone as silent tears fell.
They captured moments from my college years to the recent days spent with Carlo during his rehabilitation in the hospital.
Each picture encapsulated seven years of my youth and love. How could I let go so easily?
When Carlo arrived home, the house was completely dark.
He switched on the light, puzzled, and his expression shifted to a frown as soon as he spotted me.
“Didn’t I mention I’d be back for dinner? It’s so late, and you haven’t turned on the lights or cooked anything. Are you trying to let me starve?”
He removed his coat, clearly displeased, and headed toward the bathroom, only to return shortly after.
“Why didn’t you even get the bathwater ready?”
I gazed vacantly at the man I had cherished for seven years, a part of my heart crumbling in an overwhelming collapse.
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I used to be a high–born lady from New York’s elite circle, never having to do any household chores.
To win Carlo’s affection, I taught myself how to cook and care for others. Countless blisters had formed on my hands, and my palms were covered in calluses.
Yet now it feels as though my hard work not only failed to resonate with him but led him to take it all for granted.
Carlo finally picked up on my unusual demeanor.
“Are you okay? Are you ill?”
When his hand met my forehead, I involuntarily shivered a bit.
“Carlo, what am I to you? Am I only your maid?”
He seemed taken aback but then offered me a tender smile.
“What’s going on with you today, silly? You could never be just a maid. You’re my favorite person.”
I gazed at him in silence, tears starting to form in my eyes.
Until today, I had never questioned Carlo’s sincerity.
I was the only one who remained by his side after his paralysis.
He had explicitly promised never to let me down, yet the moment he regained the ability to stand, he planned to marry Monica, the one who had left him.
With a raspy voice, I tentatively asked, “Did you hear the news? You don’t need a household register for marriage registration anymore. Why don’t we go get our license?”
