Five years. Five years of loving him, and I still hadn’t managed to get a marriage license with my fiancé. Gavin lived his life by a transaction. He called it his “Relationship Points System.” Five points bought a hug. Ten points bought a kiss. A hundred points bought a night in his bed. And a marriage license? That required one hundred thousand points. To reach that impossible number, to finally become his wife, I spent years catering to everyone in the Pierce family, swallowing my pride to earn every single point. Finally, on our fifth anniversary, I hit the milestone. One hundred thousand points. But when I found Gavin, practically vibrating with excitement, his face was like stone. “Daisy, I can’t marry you,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “Cynthia reached her goal before you did. I have to keep my word.” Cynthia, my best friend, stood beside him with an innocent, wide-eyed smile as she pressed a gold-embossed invitation into my hand. “Daisy, we always promised we’d be each other’s maid of honor. You have to come!” She tilted her head, looking so sweet. “I was honestly just playing along. I never expected to hit ten points so quickly.” I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. “Ten points? What do you mean ten points? Why…” Gavin cut me off, cold and dismissive. “Her rules were different from yours.” He said it so casually, as if he were discussing a minor change in a corporate contract. “The system doesn’t stop here, Daisy. Once you earn another hundred thousand points, I’ll divorce her and give you another chance to pursue me.” I slowly shook my head, a hollow, self-deprecating laugh slipping from my throat. “I won’t be attending the wedding,” I whispered. “Keep the hundred thousand points. Consider it my wedding gift.” … Gavin let out a soft, amused sigh, reaching out to ruffle my hair the way he always did when he thought I was being difficult. “Alright, don’t be childish,” he said. “I’ll give you a goodnight kiss tonight. No points deducted.” I flinched, stepping out of his reach. Gavin’s brow furrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. Cynthia laughed, stepping forward to slip her arm through mine in a show of cheap affection. “Oh, Daisy’s just teasing. She’d never break a promise to me. Right, Daisy?” She nudged my shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a venomous sweetness. A bitter ache blossomed in my chest. I stared at her, searching the face of the girl I thought I knew. “Right,” I whispered. All my life, I had never said no to Cynthia. She was my only friend. My lifeline. Back in middle school, when the entire class ostracized me, locking me in bathroom stalls and screaming slurs at me, Cynthia was the only one who stood in front of me. She had absorbed their blows so I wouldn’t have to. Cynthia squealed, clapping her hands. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down!” Gavin exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. He looked at me, his voice returning to that smooth, patronizing warmth. “I hate that it had to be this way, Daisy. But a man has to keep his word. You’ve always been so mature, so understanding. You’re not going to hold this against us, are you?” Before I could even swallow the lump in my throat, Gavin leaned down and pressed his lips to Cynthia’s. A single kiss. Something I had to hoard five hard-earned points to receive. And he gave it to her for free, without her even asking. The kiss deepened. His hands slid down to cup her waist, while she slid her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush against him. They melted into each other, completely forgetting I was standing right there in the entryway. My nose stung, tears blurring my vision before I forced them back. Clutching the fabric of my skirt, I turned to slip away, to find any corner where I could breathe. “Daisy!” Cynthia’s voice cut through the quiet. She peeked over Gavin’s shoulder, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen. “Hey, we’re out of condoms. Do you mind running down to the drugstore to grab some?” I froze. She blinked, as if suddenly remembering something, and reached into her purse to pull out a small sticker. “Oh, silly me. I forgot. This counts as a chore, which means you get a point, right?” She stepped close and slapped the tiny sticker right onto my forehead. “There. Now can you go?” In the reflection of the full-length mirror by the door, I saw myself. My nose was red, my eyes brimming with unshed tears, and stuck firmly to my forehead was a bright red “+1” sticker. I looked pathetic. An absolute joke. A clown in my own tragedy. Gavin glanced at me, a brief shadow of guilt crossing his features. “Cynthia, let her be. I think we have some in the drawer.” Cynthia giggled, kissing his jawline and gently pushing him toward the hallway. “Go take a shower first, babe. I want to chat with Daisy for a minute.” Gavin hesitated for a fraction of a second, then turned and walked toward the bedroom. Cynthia dragged my numb body over to the sofa. She pulled up her iPad, tapping open a gallery of wedding dresses. “Daisy, you have the best taste. Help me choose a dress.” She pointed to a stunning, low-backed silk gown. “What do you think of this one?” I stared at the screen. It was a Vera Wang. My favorite designer. Every time we went window shopping, I would drag her to the boutique display and whisper, “Cynthia, one day I’m going to wear a Vera Wang when I marry Gavin. And you’re going to be my maid of honor.” Back then, she would roll her eyes and laugh at how naive I was. “I don’t know what kind of spell Gavin has you under to make you agree to that ridiculous points system.” Cynthia’s voice shattered the memory, dripping with casual arrogance. “Oh, actually, I forgot to mention—I’m pregnant. So this fitted style probably won’t work.” My blood ran cold. I stared at her, my skin turning paper-white. “Why?” I choked out. Cynthia let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Oh, sweet Daisy. What do you mean ‘why’? We didn’t use protection, so I got pregnant. It’s basic biology.” She traced a finger slowly over her bottom lip. “Actually, the first time Gavin and I did it… was right here. On this very spot where you’re sitting.” My entire body locked up. “Remember that day you asked why I was limping, and I told you I tripped?” Cynthia smiled, leaning closer. “It wasn’t a fall. Gavin was just so rough with me that my legs gave out. I could barely stand.” Watching her lips move, hearing the words spill from her mouth, a wave of violent, bone-deep nausea hit me. I violently pushed her away, stumbled blindly into the bathroom, and collapsed over the toilet, retching until my throat burned. I splashed freezing water over my face and looked up. The mirror reflected a ghost—pale, hollow-eyed, trembling. Memories crashed over me in a suffocating wave. I remembered that day. I had noticed her limping and spent the entire afternoon brewing a bone broth to help her heal, thinking she had hurt herself. When Gavin saw what I did, he had smiled and credited my account with a hundred points. He had stroked my hair so gently. “You’re such a good girl, Daisy.” I had practically leaped for joy. A hundred points! It brought me so much closer to being his wife. I had blushed like an idiot, teasing him: “Are you just giving me points because you can’t wait to marry me, Gavin?” What I hadn’t seen—what I had been too blind to notice—was the knowing, mocking look he and Cynthia had exchanged right over my head. Cynthia sauntered into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe as she watched me struggle to breathe. “You okay, Daisy?” I wiped my mouth, turning to look her dead in the eye. “Why, Cynthia? Why are you doing this to me?” She blinked, and then she giggled. “Oh, Daisy. Because I wanted him.” She tilted her head, her expression a horrific blend of innocence and malice. “Think about it. Since we were kids, whenever I wanted something of yours, you always just gave it to me, didn’t you? Your dolls, your stationery set, that vintage dress you loved… why should this be any different? Are you suddenly getting greedy?” Tears finally broke through, scalding my cheeks. “Gavin isn’t a doll, Cynthia! He’s a human being! He’s not something you can just take!” My voice cracked, raw with agony. “I loved him. I loved him for five years!” I had built my entire existence around him. For five years, I counted every single point, dreaming of the day we’d finally stand at the altar. I treasured every hug, treated every kiss like a rare, precious gift. To me, Gavin was everything. After my parents died, he became my protector, my family, the anchor that filled the hollow ache in my chest. When I was sick, he would cancel multi-million dollar board meetings just to sit by my bedside. Once, when a sleazy investor tried to force me to drink with him, Gavin had thrown the wine right in the man’s face, pulling me out of the room by my wrist. “I swear to God, Daisy,” he had said, his eyes blazing, “I will never let anyone make you feel small again.” I believed him. I believed he was the one person in this world who would never break me. Cynthia sighed, a flicker of boredom crossing her face. “Daisy, you always say you love Gavin, and you love me. The two people you love most are together now. Shouldn’t you be happy for us?” The sheer absurdity of her words shattered something inside me. With a raw scream, I swept my arm across the vanity, sending the glass perfume bottles and jars crashing to the tile floor. “No, I am not happy!” I shrieked. Cynthia flinched, stepping back in genuine shock. Tears blinded me as I stood there, ignoring the sharp pain of glass slicing into my palm. Warm, dark blood began to drip from my fingertips, staining the pristine white tiles. Hearing the crash, Gavin rushed in, a silk robe thrown hastily over his shoulders. He froze when he saw the blood. “Daisy! What happened?” He stepped forward, reaching out to grab my wrist to inspect the cut. I violently twisted away. My eyes caught the faint, red scratch marks on his exposed collarbone, and my chest felt like it was imploding. “How much does this concern cost, Gavin?” I choked out, my voice trembling violently as I cradled my bleeding hand. “How many points do I have to pay to get you to care? Can I even afford it anymore?” Gavin’s face darkened, the concern instantly hardening into defensiveness. “Are you seriously blaming me for this, Daisy?” He let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, his tone shifting to that familiar blend of exhaustion and disappointment. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to marry you.” “Why couldn’t you have just worked a little harder? If you had, you would have won!” He rubbed his temples, pacing the small bathroom. “The points system was the only way I could protect you, the only way I could justify marrying you to my family! You didn’t push hard enough.” He stepped closer, his voice rising. “Did you ever stop to think about the pressure I was under? Do you think the board at Pierce Enterprises would ever let me marry an orphan with absolutely no family background or status? You’re being incredibly selfish, Daisy!” “Besides, Cynthia is your best friend. If she and I are married, the three of us can be together forever. Isn’t that the perfect solution?” I stared at him, my entire body shaking with a profound, terrifying disgust. “Do you even hear yourself, Gavin?” my voice was barely a whisper. “You want me to be your dirty little secret? Your mistress? A pet that you and your wife share?” A flash of shame flickered in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with anger. “Don’t make it sound so cheap!” he snapped. “I told you, once you earn another hundred thousand points, we’ll have our chance again!” I looked at him, truly looked at him, and realized I was staring at a stranger. “You are a monster, Gavin,” I spat, the words tasting like poison. “Move. Get out of my way. I’m going home.” Gavin let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Home? What home, Daisy?” Behind him, Cynthia let out a soft, mocking snicker. She stepped up, pretending to soothe me as she laid a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Daisy, stop making a scene. Gavin is right. Ever since your parents died, you lived with my family. And after graduation, you moved straight in here. Where else would you go? You don’t have a home of your own.” The memories of the crash hit me like a physical blow. The smell of burning rubber, the screech of metal, my parents using their own bodies to shield me as the car crumpled around us. Don’t be scared, sweetie. Mommy and Daddy are right here… I had watched their blood pool around my feet, unable to move, unable to save them. A second later, the tank blew, and the world dissolved into a roaring furnace of orange flame. Since that day, the concept of “home” had been an empty word. It was Cynthia who had held my hand at the funeral, Cynthia who had brought me into her house and whispered, “I’m your family now, Daisy. I’m never leaving you.” I collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, curling into myself as the panic attack clawed at my chest. I couldn’t breathe. The air in my lungs felt like fire. Gavin watched me sink, and for a fleeting second, genuine worry flickered in his eyes. But Cynthia gently caught his arm, her voice light and dismissive. “Don’t fall for it, Gavin. She always plays the victim when she doesn’t get her way. She’s been doing this since we were kids to make me look bad. I’m sick of her little performances.” Gavin stopped. He looked down at me, his expression hardening back into that cold, detached mask. “Get yourself under control,” he said quietly. He took Cynthia’s hand and began walking back toward the bedroom, throwing one last sentence over his shoulder. “You’re not a child anymore, Daisy. Crying and throwing tantrums won’t solve anything.” I lay curled on the floor, the silent tears burning my eyes. I lost track of time. Minutes or hours could have passed before the silence of the apartment was punctured by a sound that made my stomach turn. From the master bedroom, muffled but entirely clear, came the soft, rhythmic groans of their intimacy. Gavin gasped out a low warning. “Shh… Daisy is still out there. She’ll hear us.” Cynthia’s laughter was loud, breathless, and utterly unbothered. “So what? Doesn’t that make it more exciting?” My eyes burned crimson. I staggered to my feet and rushed toward the front door, desperate to escape. But the deadbolt was engaged. I grabbed the brass handle, twisting and pulling with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. They had locked me in. Behind me, the sounds continued, a dull, rusted knife sawing slowly through my chest. Cynthia’s breathless gasps turned into sharp, needy whimpers, met by Gavin’s low, heavy grunts. I slid down against the locked door, pressing my palms against my ears until they hurt. But the noise still seeped through my fingers, sharp as needles, piercing my eardrums and carving directly into my heart until there was nothing left of me but blood. Finally, the bedroom door clicked open. Without the wall to support me, I slumped onto the hardwood floor. Cynthia stood above me, wearing one of Gavin’s crisp white button-downs. The collar was askew, doing nothing to hide the dark purple bruises blooming across her collarbone. She looked down at me, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “Enjoy the show?” I was entirely hollowed out, my voice a broken rasp. “Why, Cynthia? We were supposed to be best friends. When those kids bullied me in high school, you fought them off. You told everyone that no one was allowed to touch me…” Cynthia let out a soft, mocking laugh, cutting me off. “That was a lie, Daisy.” She knelt down to meet my eyes. “They bullied you because I told them you were a thief. I set the whole thing up.” My chest seized. I stared at her, unable to process the words. “And… and the night I had that terrible fever, and you climbed down the fire escape from the second-floor dorm just to get me medicine?” “Also a setup,” she said smoothly. “You got sick because I had been pouring expired milk into your coffee for a week.” Tears dripped silently onto my lap. “The time those thugs cornered me in the alley, and you took a blow to the shoulder protecting me…” “Fake, fake, all of it!” Cynthia snapped, her eyes flashing with a mix of boredom and triumph. “Honestly, Daisy, how are you this gullible? The night you got locked in the gym equipment room? My idea. The girls who slapped you in the locker room? I paid them. You thought I was your savior, popping up at the perfect moment? No, I was standing just around the corner, watching you cry. Once you were broken enough, I’d step in so you’d worship me.” A single, heavy tear fell, my throat so tight it felt like it was filled with ash. “And when my parents died… when you brought me into your home, when we lived as sisters for ten years… was that all a lie too?” Cynthia’s gaze flickered, a complex shadow crossing her face before she quickly suppressed it. “No, that part was real,” she whispered. She paused, her voice dropping into a cold, venomous register. “But the car crash… I was the one who tampered with the brakes.” The room went completely silent. My mind went entirely blank, as if my consciousness had been violently ripped from my body. Cynthia continued, her voice light, as if she were reminiscing about a childhood game. “Did you know we’re actually half-sisters? Your perfect father abandoned my mother and me so he could marry yours and build that beautiful, happy family of yours. Why did you get to have the white picket fence while I was stuck in a cramped apartment, getting mocked for not having a dad? I didn’t think it was fair. But I knew the tables would turn eventually.” “So when my mom finally married a wealthy venture capitalist from Chicago, I had the resources to learn a few things. Like how to cut a brake line so it looked like normal wear and tear.” She stared straight at me, a horrific, satisfied smile stretching across her face. “Honestly, I was just shocked you survived the crash.” A violent wave of grief and fury exploded in my chest, hot and blinding. I didn’t know where the strength came from, but I surged upward and slammed my palm across her face. “You monster!” I screamed. “How could you? How could you do that to them?” The force of the slap sent Cynthia stumbling backward, a bright red mark instantly blooming across her pale cheek. Gavin stepped out of the bedroom just in time to see her fall. With a roar, he rushed forward and shoved me backward, pulling Cynthia protectively into his chest. “Are you out of your mind, Daisy? She’s pregnant!” The force of his shove sent me flying back. My lower back slammed violently against the low windowsill, a sharp, white-hot pain shooting up my spine that made me gasp for air. Gavin cradled Cynthia, his hands cupping her face as his eyes scanned her for injuries. “Are you okay? Does your stomach hurt? Talk to me.” Cynthia whimpered, burying her face in his neck, but over his shoulder, she locked eyes with me. And she smiled. A small, victorious smirk. The pain in my back pulsed in heavy waves, but it was nothing compared to the slow, agonizing death of my soul. I looked at the two of them. And I realized my entire life had been nothing but a punchline. “The worst thing I ever did,” I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips, “was letting either of you into my life.” I turned away from them, looking out the open window into the dark, silent city below. I remembered a night years ago. A younger Gavin had stood beneath my balcony, his arms spread wide, calling up to me with a brilliant, boyish grin: “Daisy, I’m going to build us a home. I promise.” That was the first time in my life I had believed someone would actually catch me if I fell. I let out a soft, beautiful laugh. I placed my bleeding hands on the windowsill, climbed up, and leaped. The wind roared in my ears, the hard concrete of the driveway rushing up to meet me. Far behind me, echoing from the window I had just left, came Gavin’s desperate, shredded scream: “Daisy, no!”
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