Fated Love, Unwritten Endings

experimental cancer treatment, and in return, the brilliant, proud student played the part of m

a concussion. I woke up with the horrifying knowledge that my entire life wa

, Frances. I was the obstacle he had to overcome. My pre-written fate was

of was the vintage watch I spent months restoring for his birthday. A week lat

on her wrist was supposed to make me fly in

ess is destined for a tragic end, then this villai

"I want to be declared dead," I told the man who sp

pte

ppear," I said,

uit that probably cost more than a car, but his eyes were like a reptile's, c

ad?" he asked, his tone flat.

ody, or one that's unidentifiable but matches my

We guarantee a clean slate. New identity, new life. The arrangements for the 'a

me, only a number. "That's the deposit. The rest will be

s economical. "Understood. We will

t building and into the bustling noise of a New York afternoon. A slee

sborne," he said, his h

ar pulled smoothly into traffic, heading towards the Upper East Side.

skyscraper. This wasn't my family's home. It was th

he top floor. The doors opened directly into a vast living room with

beautif

was still at Columbia, where he was the brilliant

glass of water, my hand perfectly stea

one shoulder. He was beautiful, with sharp cheekbones, intense dark eyes, and an air of quie

Just n

ich had been neutral, cooled. He

ce in a few strides. He reached out to cup my face, hi

ad away, his hand falling t

ity gala planning committee?" His voice held a faint, almost unnoticeab

irely wrong.

to him to place the glass in the sink. It w

nd resignation. "Alright. I'm going to my

id, keeping

y entrance. "You've bee

around. "I'm

red enough to. He disappeared into his wing of the penthouse. I lis

paid for his younger sister's experimental cancer treatment. It was a cold, transactional relationship. I

me when he thought I wasn't watching. A deep, simmering res

y. That he would see me. I had hoped my devotion, my qui

fool I

horse left me with a concussion. When I woke up in the hosp

le novel, laid out f

st. A brilliant, proud man who would eventually

ess who used her money to trap the hero, separating him from his on

l's true heroine. And I, driven mad by jealousy, would try to destroy them. My attempts at rev

it. It was absurd. A halluc

t. A chance encounter with Frances, a specific line of dialogue from Cale

oring it for Caleb's birthday, even having it custom-engraved. A week later, he gave it to Frances, te

d my fate. Or rather, the

roy me. And I would not let that happen. If the story demanded a tragic end for th

eath. I would sever every tie to this world,

lked out, already shrugging on a jack

ce softer than I'd ever heard it. "Do

s expression hardening again. "

heroine. I knew there was no real emergenc

d have. I would have demanded it, maybe even

st nodde

ated for a second, a flicker of something unreadable

. He turned and walked out, the e

use was si

ndow, looking down

ed to the empty room. "I ho

was going