The Unfortunate Card of Lies

elayed by a ridiculous family ritual where he had to draw a "Fortunate" tarot card. For three years, he dr

ared. We were finally free. But in a swift, practiced move, he swapped i

for four years. He couldn't marry me yet because of his assistant, Ariel. Sh

in I shared, was a lie. A charade performed for another wo

lies, shouting, "I can't believe I wasted ten years

loved was gone. So, I left. I flew

ld with regret, begging me to come back. And right behind him was

pte

one of ill omen. The ancient, worn deck, blessed for generations by the Livingston matriarch, held our fate, or so I thought. For three years, it

nis, the heir to the Livingston dynasty, could only marry his childhood sweetheart – me – aft

and fasting in the family's desolate mountain retreat. He came back skeletal, his eyes hollow, and col

s, leaving grotesque welts that took months to heal. He didn't cry out once, but I heard his muffled grunts from behind the closed doors of

comfort. He almost died from hypothermia. I remember the doctors shaking their heads, whispering about irreversible organ damage. I sat by his bedside, clutching his hand, tears strea

ged weaker, but his resolve, he claimed, burned

my unwavering love and convince his rigid family that our bond was stronger than any superstition. I slipped

es, took a deep

triarch's stern face softened, a faint smile touching her lips. It was fortunate. We w

nished, replaced by a dull, somber one. The "Unfortunate" card. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn

. "It seems my fate remains unchanged, Grandmother," he said, his v

d to Adonis's cousin, Brittain, who stood nearby. "Prepare th

table. He didn't question it. No one ever questioned it. It wa

reedom was literally in his hand? The betrayal hit me harder than any physical blow. It was a searing fire in my chest, turning ever

round the corner, near the old s

laced with exasperation. "Another year? You actual

, almost defeated. "I cou

jump into the fire with you! She' s been through hell because of

en my shadow for eight years. Eight years, Brittain. She gave up everything to follow me, to work for me. She loves me. She told me last ni

girl who always seemed to be lurking in the periphery. Eight years. He

ause it sounds a lot like manipulation to me, Adonis. You're sacrificing Ivory, your future, for a manipulative assistant. And

enuinely pained. "Her family, her background... she's got nothing, B

r loyalty, your honesty, your entire future! Not Ariel, who clings to you like a

cracking. "One more year to figure it out. To make sure

Four years you' ve drawn the 'Fortunate' card and swapped it for the 'Unfortunate' one. Four years you've

I' d watched him endure, had been a charade. A lie. He had chosen it. He had chosen Ariel over me, over our future, over our love. The

t. My head spun, a nauseating vortex of betrayal and disbelief. Ariel. It was always Ariel. The quiet assistant I' d barely registe

d now. A web of lies, carefully spun, designed to keep me tethered while he played a dangerous game of obligation and guilt with another woman. My b