Chapter 2

• CHRIS’ POV
• The moment Judy stepped out in that dress, she was breathtaking. The dark green dress she was wearing clung to her frame in a way that were both elegant and striking, the colour bringing out the warmth in her complexion.
• The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, flowing gracefully as she moved, each step confident yet unassuming. The neckline highlighted the gentle curve of her collarbone, while the dress’ tailored fit accentuated her silhouette without being ostentatious.
• For a moment, I couldn't help but take in the sight of her. The way the dress complemented her natural beauty felt almost unfair, like she had stepped out of a painting. Then I caught myself staring and quickly masked my thoughts, straightening up as if nothing had phased me.
• A pang hit me, deep and sharp, an ache that felt so familiar it was almost comforting. It was as though every memory I had locked away had cracked open, flooding me with a wave of something I could not quite name—longing, regret, maybe both.
• My heart pounded in my chest, unearthing emotions I thought I had buried. For a split second, everything felt raw and exposed, like no time had passed, as if I was right back where I had left off.
• But as quickly as the feeling came, I forced it away, swallowing it down and steeling myself. I could not let her see anything slip, not even a flicker of weakness, and I especially wouldn’t give Jason the satisfaction of seeing how much I still cared.
• Jason stood beside her with an infuriatingly self-assured grin, his hand resting on her shoulder in a way that made my jaw tighten. He looked over at me, clearly pleased with himself, as if he had won some kind of prize.
• "Don’t worry," he said, his voice dripping with confidence, "I’ll take good care of Judy."
• The way he said her name—so casually, so possessively—ignited a fire in my chest.
• I could not help the sneer that twisted my face; I didn’t bother to hide it. Seeing him stand there, acting like he could just walk into my life and claim everything I had let slip through my fingers, was almost laughable.
• The words came out before I could stop myself, sharp and edged with disdain.
• "You even have an eye on the daughter of a servant," I said, letting the contempt seep into every syllable. "You must be really desperate, Jason."
• The insult hung heavy in the air between us. I could see his smug expression falter, the briefest flicker of annoyance crossing his face, but I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I turned on my heel and walked away, each step feeling like it was taking me further from something I wanted but could never reach.
• The tightness in my chest lingered, the ache I was so used to burying resurfacing with a vengeance. Her presence, her beauty, the way she had just lit up the room—all of it faded behind me as I forced myself to leave them both there, the weight of everything I had hidden pressing down once more.
• JUDY’S POV
• I could not understand why Chris had suddenly turned so cold or why he had felt the need to throw such hurtful words my way. Just years ago, we had been close—real friends, or so I thought.
• But tonight, his disdain had hit me harder than I wanted to admit, his bitter comment replaying over and over in my mind like an unwelcome echo. It was as if he had decided I was someone else entirely, someone he despised.
• After the ball, Jason offered to drive me home. The silence in the car was thick, almost oppressive, but I barely registered it, too lost in my own thoughts. Chris’ face, his harsh tone, the way he looked at me like I was a stranger—it all kept swirling through my mind, filling me with questions I could not answer.
• “Wait,” he said, his voice unusually soft, jolting me out of my thoughts.
• I turned to him, confusion written all over my face. I could not understand what he was doing, what he thought he was about to accomplish. Before I had a chance to react, he leaned forward, his lips crashing into mine.
• It was not soft or gentle. It was not anything I had wanted. It felt wrong, completely out of place. I stiffened, my body going rigid with shock as everything inside me screamed to pull away. The kiss lingered for a second longer than it should have, and the taste of it—like desperation and misunderstanding—made my stomach turn.
• Instinct took over. I didn’t even think. My hand shot out and connected with his face with a loud slap that rang in the small, cramped car. The sound echoed between us, leaving the air thick with disbelief and tension.
• We both froze, stunned by what had just happened. Neither of us spoke, but the silence between us was heavy, charged with everything that was left unsaid.
• “What the hell, Jason?” Finally I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and anger.
• “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, his words faltering as he clearly tried to process what had just happened. “I didn’t mean—”
• I didn’t let him finish. The words felt like they were suffocating me, and I could not bear to hear another second of his pathetic excuses. Without another thought, I bolted from the car, slamming the door behind me with a force that made my hands shake.
• My heart pounded in my chest as I rushed into the house, the sting of humiliation and anger burning across my cheeks.
• Inside, I barely paused. I stormed up the stairs, the world outside fading into a blur. I just needed to escape, to shut out everything that had happened tonight. But as I reached my room and pushed open the door, I froze in place.
• Chris was sitting in the darkness, like some haunting presence from a life I no longer recognised. His face was unreadable, and the tension in his posture made my chest tighten. He looked like a ghost, something from my past that I had never expected to see again—not like this.
• “Chris?” My voice came out barely above a whisper, fragile in the heavy silence.
• When I switched on the lights, he stood up slowly, his movements deliberate and calculated, as if he were preparing for something. The shadows stretched across his figure, casting him in an ominous light. There was something about the way he stood—so still, so imposing—that made my breath catch in my throat.
• I had never seen him like this before. It was like the person I once knew had been replaced by someone else entirely, someone dangerous, unpredictable. And suddenly, I was not sure what to expect next.
• “Take off your dress,” he said coldly, his tone devoid of the warmth I used to know. Instead, he clenched his jaw as if I did something unforgivable.
• “What?” I stared at him, bewildered.
• He held up a familiar set of keys—my father’s. The sight made my heart drop. Why was he acting strange?
• “If you don’t do as I say,” he continued, his voice steady and deliberate, “I’ll make sure your father loses his job. Your family won’t have a place to stay.”
• The words were like a slap to my face. I knew Chris well enough to understand he would not truly harm my family, but the threat itself was enough to send me spiralling.
• “Chris, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Why are you acting like this?”
• He did not answer. The silence stretched unbearably, and I realized he was not bluffing. Reluctantly, I complied, hoping to de-escalate whatever had taken hold of him. Therefore, I removed the dress in no time, standing in front of him with only my underwear.
• However, what happened next was even stranger. Chris unbuckled his belt, made me turn my back to him, to lash out in some symbolic act of frustration. His movements were sharp, but the force was restrained. Just when I had thought he would not hurt me…
• I yelped at the unexpected sting, spinning to face him.
• “Are you insane?”
• He didn’t meet my gaze, his expression clouded with something I could not decipher.
• “Stay still,” he ordered, his voice sharp yet brittle. “Or else…”
• Tears welled in my eyes, not from pain but from sheer confusion and hurt. This was not the Chris I knew—the one who had once been my best friend, the one I thought would protect me from the world, not turn into someone I barely recognised.
• I didn’t understand why he was doing this, and I didn’t know how to stop it. But as I stood there, humiliated and vulnerable, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it was fleeting, and he masked it quickly