In the dark underground garage, a masked man with a weapon lurked in the corner. Aidan's mom didn't know, seeing danger approaching.
I didn't care about my safety, rushing in front of the attacker to let Aidan's mom escape.
Aidan's mom worried about my safety, calling the police while running.
When the police arrived, the attackers were gone.
Aidan's mom feared for my safety, urging her son and the police to find me.
When the police found me, it was three days later.
They found me in an abandoned building. The attackers had long gone.
When the police found me, my clothes were disheveled, deeply traumatized, signs of violation.
Aidan's mom hugged me, guilt filling her eyes. "Sweetie, you've suffered."
Aidan, seeing me like that, his eyes welled up.
Trembling, he held my hand. "Lucie, it's okay now; it's all over. Can I take you home?"
I was diagnosed with PTSD and struggled with severe mental illness, even considering suicide.
After the news broke, public opinion turned against me.
News of the suspected assault instantly topped the trending charts.
I faced online harassment, scrutiny, afraid to even step outside.
Every time I close my eyes, scary images pop into my head.
Aidan was scared I'd do something stupid, so he stuck with me twenty-four-seven, never taking his eyes off me.
During my hospital stay, he was all hands-on deck for me.
The lady in the next bed quietly asked me, "When are you two tying the knot?"
Thanks to my boyfriend's tender care, the darkness in my heart slowly lifted.
Whenever nightmares tortured me and I broke down in tears, he'd gently hold me, soothing my hurt soul.
He'd say, "It'll get better! Everything will be okay!"
Those painful memories have started to blur.
As I started forgetting, Aidan boldly exposed my scars to him.
It reopened wounds I thought had healed.
I was sure Aidan loved me and we'd walk down the aisle together.
But he never brought up marriage and even badmouthed me to him.
Turns out Aidan had his doubts; marriage was never on his mind.
We dated for seven years—seven long years! How many of those does a girl get?
He took up my whole youth and filled every memory.
I gave him my best years, but he didn't want them.
Outside, lightning cracked and thunder roared. I dashed into the pouring rain, letting it soak me.
I squatted on the ground, crying loudly, tears flowing freely down my face. I felt like a pitiful creature abandoned by everyone.