Zara Warner was about to marry Gavin Grant.
As she entered the code to unlock the door of his house, the thought crossed her mind again. In the past few days, they had been discussing their upcoming marriage. Gavin had asked her to visit his place beforehand to see if there was anything she needed to add to make it feel like home.
Gavin had always been her childhood sweetheart, the one she secretly admired. After being in a relationship for two years and finally deciding to get married, both of their parents were overjoyed. And, naturally, so was she.
Zara wandered through the spacious house to have a look at everything in it. She moved Gavin's toiletries a little to the side on the washstand, picturing her own things placed next to his in just a few days. The thought made her smile at her reflection in the mirror.
Returning to the living room, she poured herself a glass of water. However, as she turned, she accidentally knocked a mug off the table, the loud sound of breaking porcelain echoing through the room.
Zara's heart dropped when she looked down at the shattered pieces of the lily-white mug. Her face paled, and she crouched down quickly to pick up the fragments. The moment her fingers touched the shards, a sharp sting hit her skin. She glanced at her hand and saw a small cut, blood seeping out.
She hesitated for a moment, then snapped a quick photo of the broken mug. After a brief pause, she sent it to Gavin.
This wasn't just any mug. It was a gift from Gavin's ex-girlfriend, who had been with him for four years. Even though they had broken up, he had kept the mug until now. Zara had witnessed their entire relationship, from the passionate beginning to the inevitable breakup. She knew exactly how much Gavin had loved his ex.
But now, she was about to become his wife. Zara didn't think he would be upset with her for breaking the mug accidentally, especially since it had been years since the breakup.
Truthfully, she had always been slightly bothered by the mug's presence. Maybe this was fate—symbolically clearing away the last barrier between them before their wedding.
With that thought, she felt a little more at ease.
Gavin's reply soon came, "Wait for me at home."
Zara couldn't tell what emotion lay behind those five words, but she couldn't help thinking positively.
As she looked at her still-bleeding finger, she pressed a tissue against it. The pain was sharper than she expected. If she had known, she wouldn't have rushed to pick up the pieces.
Fifteen minutes later, Gavin arrived. His face darkened as he spotted the shattered mug on the floor. "Zara, what did you do?"
"I am so sorry, I accidentally knocked it over," Zara said, her voice softening as she faced him.
Gavin's chest rose and fell rapidly, anger bubbling beneath the surface. His voice was icy as he pointed to the mess on the floor. "Pick it up."
Zara's heart clenched. Was he really this angry over a cup? She opened her palm to show him the cut. "I already hurt my hand trying to clean it up."
If someone else had given him the cup, she might have picked up the pieces and tried to glue it back together. But knowing it was from his first love, she simply couldn't bring herself to do it.
Gavin's tone grew even colder as his voice rose. "I told you to pick it up. Did you not hear me?"
"I will buy you a new one. How about that?" She offered, reaching for his hand, but he yanked it away.
"Zara, you are not the careless type. You did not break it on purpose, did you?"
Zara felt a bitter mix of frustration and hurt surge through her. "It's just a mug! Why are you so angry at me over something so small?"
At her words, Gavin's restraint snapped. "Just a mug? Do you have any idea what this cup means to—" He cut himself off, his expression hardening. "Pick it up and glue it back together. Now."
Zara stood across from him, her body turning cold as his words sank in. He had never spoken to her like this before. Could it really be that a mug his ex gave him meant more to him than she did?
"Is this really because it was from your ex?" Her voice trembled, though there was anger beneath it. "We are about to get married, Gavin. Are you seriously planning to keep her things forever? If you loved her so much, then why did you want to marry me? I did not just break a cup, I broke the connection between the two of you, and now you're mad at me for it?"
SLAP—
The sharp sound of a slap filled the room. Zara's head snapped to the side, her hair falling messily across her face. Her mind went blank, and a ringing echoed in her ears.
Gavin stood there, his body rigid, his hand trembling as he growled, "Get out."
Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision as she whispered, "Gavin, did I do something wrong?"
Without waiting for an answer, Zara hurried out of his house. If she stayed a moment longer, she feared she would break down in front of him.
After she left, Gavin knelt down to gather the porcelain shards. His hand was still numb from the slap. Frustrated, he angrily threw the pieces back onto the ground, smashing them even further.
Zara ran outside, too hastily. Her high heel twisted beneath her, and she fell, scraping her palm and knee, leaving streaks of blood. But she quickly picked herself up and grabbed her purse, desperate to get as far away as possible.
In her rush, she passed a tall man on the street without noticing him.
The man had seen everything. His gaze followed her as she hurried off. He glanced down at the keys and lipstick she had dropped. He thought about calling out to her, but by the time he looked up again, she had already driven away, her car's tail lights disappearing in the distance.
When Zara reached home, she realized her keys were missing. Leaning against the door, her cheek still burning, the tears she had been holding back began to fall uncontrollably.
After a while, she wiped her eyes and decided to go back and find the keys. They must have fallen out when she tripped.
Just as she reached the entrance of her apartment complex, a man suddenly blocked her way. She couldn't even see him clearly through her blurred vision. Her voice was hoarse as she muttered, "I am not interested in whatever you are selling."
She tried to step around him, but the man held out his hand. "You dropped these on West Lane."
In his palm were her missing keys and lipstick.
Zara finally looked up. The man was tall. At least six foot two, taller than Gavin and strikingly handsome, though his demeanor was cold and distant. He gave off an aura of intelligence and composure.
His gaze flickered briefly to her face, and for a moment, he seemed caught off guard by what he saw.
She quickly took the keys, instinctively using her hand to cover her swollen cheek. "Thank you. I really appreciate you bringing them back."
As she fumbled with her phone, she offered, "Let me at least pay you for your petrol."
"There's no need. We were just strangers crossing paths."
Realizing it was impolite to stare at her, he quickly looked away and turned to leave.
...
Zara spent the next two days at home, completely disconnected from the world, her phone left untouched. On the third afternoon, the doorbell rang.
Weak and still in pain, Zara dragged herself out of bed to answer the door. When she opened it, her best friend, Lila Quinn, stood there, ready to reprimand her. But upon seeing Zara's pale face and disheveled appearance, Lila frowned and asked, "What happened to you?"
Sensing something was wrong, Lila gently brushed aside Zara's hair to reveal the swelling on her left cheek. Her face darkened instantly, and her voice was stern as she asked, "Who did this to you? Who hit you?"
Zara stayed silent. Lila didn't press further and instead walked inside to make her a bowl of noodles.
Once Zara had finished eating, Lila sat down beside her and asked again, "Tell me, who hit you?"