Chapter 5

Fae Ware POV:

I drifted in and out of consciousness, a blurry haze of pain and fragmented sounds. Voices. Glenn's. Karis's.

"...she just fell, Glenn, I swear!" Karis's voice, shrill and theatrical. "She's so clumsy! And she always causes so much trouble..."

"...Karis, darling, are you hurt?" Glenn's voice, anxious, laced with concern. "Did she drag you down with her?"

My vision swam. It wasn't an accident. It was her. She pushed me. She caused this. And Glenn, his blind devotion to her, his complete disregard for me, sickened me. He was covering for her, even now, when I was lying broken on the ground.

When I finally fully woke, I was in a hospital bed. My head throbbed, my ankle was in a cast, and my arm, the one Karis had caused to be cut, was bandaged. But the emotional pain, the crushing weight of their betrayal, dwarfed any physical discomfort.

A nurse bustled in, checking my vitals. "You're lucky, dear," she said, her voice cheerful. "Your fiancé, Mr. Christensen, has been so worried about you. He hasn't left your side. Such a devoted man!"

Fiancé. Devoted. The words tasted like ash in my mouth. "He's not my fiancé," I stated, my voice flat, emotionless. "And I don't want to see him."

The nurse blinked, surprised, but before she could respond, the door swung open. Glenn. He rushed in, his face etched with feigned concern.

"Fae! Oh, my love, you're awake!" He took my hand, his touch cold and unfamiliar. "I was so worried. What happened? The doctors couldn't figure it out. Just said you had a bad fall."

He was still lying. Still gaslighting. Still trying to control the narrative. My eyes narrowed. "What happened, Glenn?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Or rather, who happened?"

He flinched, his gaze darting away. "Fae, don't be ridiculous. It was an accident. Karis was just so distraught. She told me you just... tripped."

His eyes were cold, calculating. He wasn't trying to comfort me; he was trying to assess my mental state, to see if I remembered anything. A flicker of triumph crossed his face when I didn't immediately refute his story.

"She felt so terrible," he continued, smoothly spinning his web of lies. "She wanted to come visit, but I told her you needed your rest. She' s so sensitive, you know."

He was a master manipulator. He was twisting the knife, making Karis the victim, and me the instigator. I remembered the way he used to defend me, to protect me from the harsh realities of the world. Now, he was protecting her, at my expense.

"Don't worry, Fae," he said, his voice saccharine sweet. "I'll take care of everything. Just focus on getting better. We'll leave all this unpleasantness behind us."

His patronizing tone, his dismissive words, solidified my resolve. I was done. Done with his lies, his manipulations, his betrayals. I would get better. I would leave. And he would never see me again.

I spent the next few days in the hospital, recovering, planning. Glenn visited every day, playing the part of the concerned lover. He brought flowers, chocolates, magazines. He talked about our future, our plans, as if nothing had happened. I listened, my face impassive, my heart cold. I was a ghost, a shell of my former self.

When I was finally discharged, Glenn was there, waiting with an expensive car and a forced smile. He took me home, but it no longer felt like home. It was a tomb, a monument to a love that had died a brutal death.

"Look, Fae," he said, his voice attempting enthusiasm. "I booked us a trip to Paris. A romantic getaway. Just us. We'll forget all about this silly misunderstanding."

He was still trying to buy my affection, to distract me with luxury. But the allure was gone. All I saw was the price tag, the cost of his deceit.

Later that week, a picture flashed on the news. Karis, receiving an award at a Juilliard ceremony. She was beaming, clutching a golden statuette. Rising Star Karis Hubbard Honored for Musical Achievement.

My stomach twisted. She was living my dream, basking in the spotlight that should have been mine. Glenn had kept me hidden, suppressed my talent, while she thrived. He was always so careful to keep my Juilliard attendance a secret, even from his most trusted staff. He always said he wanted me all to himself, that my talent was too precious to share. Now I knew the truth.

"She's really talented, isn't she?" Glenn said, his voice laced with admiration as he watched the news report. "A true prodigy. You know, you could have been like that, Fae, if you'd just focused more."

His words were a dagger, twisting in the wound. He was belittling my talent, my passion, while praising hers. He was rewriting my history, diminishing my worth.

"No," I said, my voice sharp, clear. "I'm done with music. It's not for me." I had said it before, to him, to myself, when he first started to control my life. But this time, it was a lie, a shield.

He looked at me, surprised, then a smug smile spread across his face. "That's my girl. Smart decision. You're too good for all that fuss. You belong with me."

His words, once again, were meant to control, to confine. But this time, they filled me with a fierce joy. He thought he was winning. He thought he had extinguished my flame. But he was wrong. He had just poured gasoline on it.

The next day, I called Dr. Petrova again. "I'm ready," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed excitement. "The European conservatory. I'm taking it."

"Excellent!" Dr. Petrova exclaimed. "I knew you had it in you, Fae. Your parents would be so proud."

Parents. The word hung in the air. I had no parents. I was an orphan. But the words, her belief in me, sparked a new hope. A new path.

Later that evening, I was making my final preparations for my departure. Glenn would be out, at another one of his "business meetings." As I was about to leave, the doorbell rang.

Glenn. He stood there, surprised, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He was back early. Too early. He looked me up and down, his gaze possessive. "Fae," he said, his voice laced with triumph. "Where are you going?"