Chapter 1
On the day of our engagement party, I didn't show up.
Amelia tore through the entire city of Chicago looking for me.
When she heard from her own mother that I had walked into a luxury hotel with another woman, she lost her mind. She smashed the engagement venue to pieces and sent me a single text:
"You can betray me, Daniel. But I want you to tell me to my face!"
I never told her that on the day we were supposed to get engaged, I was chained in a dark basement, enduring five days and nights of pure torture.
Staring at the bloody, bandaged stump of my right leg, I swallowed the blinding pain and typed out my final reply:
"Yeah. I fell in love with someone else. We're done."
~~~~~
I hadn't seen Amelia since I sent that heartless text. She left Chicago, taking her hatred for me with her.
I thought we would never cross paths again in this lifetime.
But I never expected to see her today, standing next to a handsome man.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered, only a little more mature.
I forced a stiff, practiced smile and greeted them politely:
"Miss, these boots would suit him perfectly. He'll look very sharp in them."
Amelia gave me a freezing glance before turning to the man beside her.
He nodded.
"Fine. Get me a size eleven to try on. If they pinch, I'm having this place shut down today."
Typical rich entitlement.
I cursed him in my head, but kept the humble smile plastered on my face. I crouched down, gesturing for him to take a seat.
As I bent down, the hard edge of my prosthetic socket dug viciously into my residual limb. The pain was so sharp my vision blurred.
In the past, I would have winced. But today, I just clenched my jaw and didn't let a single muscle in my face twitch.
I reached out to take his shoe, but he stared at my hands and sneered in disgust.
"Did you even wash your hands? They're disgusting. Don't touch my shoes with those gross hands."
With that, he lifted his foot and kicked me square in the chest.
"Get lost. A store this huge, and you don't even have a decent salesman?"
I crashed hard onto the floor. Instinctively, I looked up at Amelia.
She was just staring down at her phone. She didn't even lift her eyes.
Maria Thompson, the store manager, rushed over to do damage control:
"Sir, I am so sorry. He's new and doesn't know the rules yet. I'm the store manager—let me help you with the fitting."
The man rolled his eyes, still thoroughly annoyed.
"Why do you even hire male sales reps? Looking at him makes me sick."
I looked at his immaculate, pale hands, and then down at my own—calloused and peeling.
I lowered my head, a wave of shame washing over me.
He wasn't wrong. Between selling shoes, washing dishes at a diner, and delivering takeout at night, my hands were wrecked.
"My apologies. I'll leave right now."
I didn't want to ruin the store's business. I pushed myself off the floor and turned to leave, only to bump straight into Amelia.
She stepped right past me, walking over to the man and looping her arm through his.
Her voice was as gentle as it used to be:
"Baby, who's ruining your mood?"
That scene dragged me back to the past.
Whenever we used to argue, Amelia would always soften, look at me with that exact same expression, and call me sweetly:
"Baby."
Her expression and tone were exactly the same.
My chest tightened. I turned my face away.
The man pointed a finger at me:
"That guy. Can't even handle a shoe fitting without being a clumsy mess. He completely killed my mood."
Amelia let out a soft laugh and pulled a bank card from her purse, handing it to Maria.
"Fire this employee who upset Bradley, and I'll put ten grand on a store card right now."
"Ms. Hart..."
Maria looked at me, torn.
She was a good person. She had only given me this part-time job out of pity, and she even saved me lunch every day.
I wasn't going to let her take the fall for me. I gritted my teeth and stripped off my work vest right there.
"Ms. Thompson, I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
I gave Maria an apologetic nod.
Then, I limped out of the store, moving as fast as I could to escape Amelia's mocking gaze.
But even as she humiliated me, I couldn't bring myself to blame her.
After all, I was the one who had admitted to betraying her.