Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

99. A Victim To Villian

As I retreated to the kitchen, my ears couldn't help but stay tuned to the conversation, each word like a sharp dagger. One of the guests asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity, "Did she threaten to take her life or something?"

Uncle chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no, nothing like that. But she followed my son around, always insisting that she was in love with him. Things really took a turn when his mother caught them in her room together. Poor Ryan wasn't at fault -- she called him over urgently to her house. Can you imagine? A girl calling a boy to her room in secret. It's shameful for me to even talk about it."

My fist clenched tightly around the dish I was holding, the anger boiling up inside me. It took everything not to storm back into that room and shout out the truth. How they twisted the story, how they made me out to be the villain, was too much to bear.

Just then, I heard my name being called. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Putting on a mask of calm, I returned to the dinner.

Nitya said, her voice calm but commanding. "Pour me some water, will you?" she ordered, barely glancing in my direction. "And then bring me another scoop of ice cream."
I reached for the water jug and about to pour it into her glass, Ryan suddenly grabbed my hand, stopping me in my tracks. He stood up abruptly, his eyes locked on mine.

"Why are you silent? Why aren't you saying anything back?" His voice was sharp, frustration seeping through every word.

I stared at him, startled, too stunned to respond. Before I could find my voice, his father interjected sternly, "Ryan, what's going on?"

Ryan turned toward his father, his tone rising with pent-up emotion. "That's enough, Dad. She's been silent out of respect for you, not because she has to follow your orders. Don't mistake her quietness for weakness. She knows exactly how to stand up for herself and how to treat people."

The room fell into a thick, tense silence. I was speechless, unsure how to process what was happening, completely caught off guard.

His father's voice grew firmer, commanding attention. "Ryan," he warned, "you don't talk to me like that."

But Ryan didn't flinch. "You pushed me to it, Dad. You've been insulting her and her family just because she's married to me. But you're wrong -- she didn't force me into this marriage. I forced her to marry me."

The shock was palpable, filling the room as every gaze turned toward Ryan. Including mine.

His voice remained steady, his eyes unwavering as he continued, "I spread the rumor. I insisted to sneak into her room. Why? Because I was crazy about her. I was afraid of losing her to Vicky."

I felt the weight of his words hit me like a wave, each revelation more shocking than the last.

"So, Dad, how is this solely her fault?" His frustration boiled over. "I could've refused the marriage, but I didn't. I didn't want to because I loved her."

I stood frozen, utterly speechless, as Ryan’s words echoed in my mind. Each revelation felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I couldn’t process the whirlwind of emotions that surged through me—confusion, betrayal, and a profound sense of despair. His father’s face contorted with rage only added to the chaos, and I felt a desperate need to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room.

I slipped away upstairs. The moment I closed the door to my room, a single tear escaped, followed by another. Soon, I was overwhelmed, a river of tears flowing down my cheeks as I grappled with the magnitude of what had just unfolded. How could he confess to all that, and why was it so hard for me to reconcile my feelings for him with the truth of his actions?

My mind raced with questions: Was I a pawn in his game? Did he truly love me, or was playing with my feelings like he did eight years ago? I felt trapped, as if the walls were closing in around me, suffocating me in a haze of uncertainty and heartache.

I heard footsteps approaching, and panic surged through me. I hurried to wipe my tears away, but it was too late. My red, swollen eyes betrayed my distress.
I dashed to the washroom, seeking refuge from the chaos outside. Leaning against the cool tiles, I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

In a moment of desperation, I grabbed my phone and typed a message to Krystal, my hands trembling as I sent, "How do I file for a divorce?"