Chapter 3

William Blake, Sophie Winters, and I all met in high school.

But unlike me, William and Sophie had known each other since they were kids.

Sophie, delicate and perpetually ill, was like porcelain. Everyone thought they were the perfect couple.

But their love story didn’t end like the fairy tales.

When William graduated from college, Sophie broke up with him.

He waited outside her house for several nights, hoping she’d change her mind. But she didn’t. She eventually collapsed and was rushed to the hospital.

I’ll never forget the way William clung to her hand, his voice trembling as if he was terrified she would disappear.

“Sophie, please don’t leave me. I love you. I went to med school for you. Please, just give me more time—I’ll figure out how to cure you. I promise.”

Sophie, struggling to stay awake, gently wiped the tears from his eyes.

“William, I know my body. I don’t have much time left.”

“I know your parents don’t approve of us. I know they’re pressuring you to get married.”

“Promise me… promise me you’ll be with Joanna. I know she likes you.”

Hearing my name fall from her lips, I froze.

It was as if a deeply buried secret had been dragged into the light.

I felt exposed, raw. Panic bubbled inside me, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

I had never expected Sophie to notice the feelings I had tried so hard to hide.

From the moment I met William in high school, I had secretly fallen for him—this boy who didn’t belong to me.

I envied Sophie. She had his love, his attention, his unfailing gentleness.

In the end, she chose to give him to me.

But in doing so, she pushed me into a pit I would never escape from.

I can still hear her voice, her trembling words as she held my hand.

“Joanna, promise me you’ll love William for me.”

There was a pleading look in her eyes, and I thought about the years I had spent quietly yearning for him.

So I promised her.

“Don’t worry, Sophie. I’ll take care of him.”

But I regret it now.

I should’ve listened to you, Mom.

I should’ve never reached for something that wasn’t mine.

It’s my fault.

It’s my fault you’re gone.