Hopeless Love

A bitter chill settled over the night, and the air felt sharp against the skin. Snow did not simply fall. It whipped across the mountains in wild gusts, and the entire range lay buried beneath a heavy sheet of white.

Alone in the open, Millie Morgan remained still as if she had been carved into the frost. After lifting her wrist, she checked the time again and realized that three long hours had slipped by. Disappointment pressed against her chest, yet she forced it down the way she always did. Darren Evans, her husband, was not going to show up.

Even before setting foot in this place, she had sensed how it would end. Still, a stubborn flicker of hope clung to her and refused to fade. She told herself that perhaps he would at least remember the meaning of this date. It was supposed to be their wedding anniversary.

A faint movement crossed her chapped lips. Instead of sharp pain, a dull emptiness spread through her chest, as though her heart no longer had enough feeling left to truly ache.

Without warning, a thunderous blast tore through the silence above her.

Startled by the sudden sound, she lifted her gaze. Fireworks exploded across the sky in dazzling waves, each burst painting the darkness with bold, lavish color.

So he did come after all.

As the brilliant glow shimmered in her eyes, warmth returned to her expression. Hope surged through her veins, and she hurried toward the vacation villa.

However, the moment she swung the metal gate open, her steps halted. The courtyard overflowed with people who were laughing loudly, calling out to one another, and exchanging playful jokes.

Near the center of the courtyard, someone had pitched a triangular tent that stood firm against the cold. In front of it, a bonfire crackled and sent sparks into the dark sky. Strings of decorative lights hung overhead, and they cast a gentle glow that softened the harsh winter night. From the grill nearby, thin streams of smoke drifted upward and mixed with the cold air. Altogether, the place looked inviting and warm, almost like a scene from a holiday postcard.

Not far from the fire, Darren had already taken off his coat and draped it over another woman's shoulders so she would not feel the cold. With barely any space between them, he leaned closer as she tilted her face toward him, and they held each other's gaze as though the world around them had faded away.

Suddenly, another explosion echoed across the sky.

High above them, a massive firework burst open, and its sparks slowly shaped themselves into a blooming red rose. In the center of that glowing flower, bright letters formed the words, "Happy Birthday, Zoey."

At that exact moment, something inside Millie seemed to break beyond repair.

Memories rushed back without warning. When they were younger, he had once stood in this very place and promised her that it would belong only to them. He had said that on every important day, he would come here with her and with no one else.

A crushing ache spread through her chest, and it refused to loosen its grip.

From somewhere within the crowd, a voice rang out. "Isn't that Millie? Why is she here?" The man who spoke did not bother to hide the disgust on his face.

Hearing the commotion, Darren shifted his attention toward her. Millie steadied herself and forced the tears to retreat before they could fall. By the time their eyes met, the only thing she could see on his face was a chilling lack of emotion.

After noticing the change in Darren's expression, Zoey Murray curved her lips into a pleased smile and made her way over. "Millie, did you come to join my birthday celebration too?" she asked in a light and playful tone.

Instead of answering right away, Millie slowly shifted her eyes away from Darren and focused on Zoey.

Dressed in a fitted white sweater and a pair of jeans that traced her curves, Zoey looked polished and effortlessly charming. A faint blush colored her smooth skin, and it was clear she had been drinking.

In contrast, Millie stood there with tangled hair and a thick puffer jacket that swallowed her frame. Fatigue clung to her, and she seemed completely out of place among the lively crowd.

Without bothering to consider Millie's feelings, Zoey reached for the elegant three-tier cake and cut herself a neat slice. With steady hands and quiet confidence, she held it out. "I had no idea you planned to come. We have almost finished everything, but if you would like some cake, you can have this."