The Seven Years of Secret Relationship Was Turned To Ashes

Albion’s POV

I’d been in a secret relationship with my sister’s best friend for seven years.

One night, after a few too many drinks, she looked at me and, in a joking tone, said, “Albion, I’ll find you a better woman. So, can you stop clinging to me from now on?”

I stayed calm, my expression unreadable.

In my past life, I hadn’t agreed to her proposal. I insisted on being with her instead. But long after, she avoided me, ignored me, and deliberately pushed me away.

When I was in a car accident, bleeding out and fighting for my life, she went to the Arctic with her first love to see the Northern Lights.

It was then I finally understood that sincerity could shatter in an instant and love couldn’t be forced.

——

So, now, I simply said, “Alright.”

Serena Adams froze, clearly caught off guard by how quickly I responded.

The private room was dimly lit, the lights flickering faintly. Her face, bare of any makeup, had an unusual flush to it, but her eyes were clear and sober—there wasn’t even a trace of drunkenness in them.

I sat up straight, meeting her gaze with a faint smile.

Her usual laziness was gone, replaced by a serious expression. “Albion, did you even hear what I just said?”

I nodded. “I heard you.”

In the past, if she’d said something like that, I would’ve pretended to be annoyed and interrupted her, telling her to stop joking around.

But now, I remained indifferent, as if she’d said something completely trivial.

“Albion, you—”

Before she could finish, Stephanie Erickson, my sister, who had stepped out to get some air, walked back in.

She glanced at Serena and smirked playfully. “Guess who I just saw outside?”

Without waiting for a response, Stephanie continued, “I saw your first love. He’s drunk and being dragged into another private room by a few wealthy-looking women.”

Before she even finished her sentence, Serena shot to her feet and stormed out of the room.

Not long after, the sound of arguing and breaking glass echoed from the hallway.

Despite that, I stayed in my seat, casually peeling and eating an orange from the fruit platter.

Serena loves fruit but hates peeling it. Every time, I’d carefully peel it and place it in front of her. Only then would she take a few bites.

Stephanie used to tease me about it, saying, “You’re so good to her. Why don’t I ever see you treating your actual sister this well? Don’t tell me you’re into her?”

There were so many times I wanted to reveal my relationship with Serena, but she’d always link arms with me playfully, cutting me off with a cheeky grin.

“Maybe Albion thinks I’m more like a real sister to him than you. Little brothers should dote on their big sisters anyway—any objections?”

Over time, I realized what she really wanted: to keep our relationship hidden. So I stopped trying to tell anyone.

For seven years, no one in our lives knew we were together.

Now, Stephanie was lingering by the door, watching for the right moment to step in. Turning back to me, still eating fruit, she teased, “Albion, your Serena is fighting someone out there. Aren’t you going to help her?”

I swallowed the last piece of orange and shook my head. “It’s a fight between women. Why would I, a man, get involved?”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, then stepped out to help.

Meanwhile, I stayed in the private room a long time, long enough for the noise outside to die down. Only then did I stand and walk out.

The first thing I saw was Serena holding tightly onto a man’s arm.

It was her first love, the one she could never let go of—Cyril Smith.

He was drunk, leaning limply against her as if his body had no bones.

Not only did she not push him away, but she held him even closer, her arms wrapped protectively around him.

Her dark, bright eyes were filled with anger—and something else she hadn’t realized herself: heartbreak.

Albion’s POV

Stephanie leaned closer with a sly grin. “Albion, do you think there’s a chance those two will get back together?”

Her voice was just loud enough for Serena to hear.

As expected, Serena’s head shot up. When she noticed me standing not far away, a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes. She quickly explained, “I’m not thinking about getting back together with him. He’s just drunk, so I’m helping him out.”

I gave her a calm smile and shook my head. “I understand, Serena. Cyril seems pretty out of it—why don’t you take him home?”

Her brows furrowed slightly at how I addressed her, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded and helped Cyril out of the room. Before leaving, she turned back to remind Stephanie, “You two should head home soon. Don’t wander around too much.”

Watching them disappear down the hallway, a sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart.

But all I could do was laugh bitterly at how pathetic it all felt.

In my past life, I got what I wanted—Serena became my girlfriend. Yet, happiness never followed.

On my birthday, I hoped for nothing more than a simple celebration with her. Instead, she told me, “I’m busy with work. Can you stop bothering me?”

Later, I saw pictures on Cyril’s friends’ social media. He and Serena had gone skiing in the mountains that day.

Not only that. When I was writhing in pain from a stomach ulcer and asked her to accompany me to the hospital, she brushed me off impatiently. “I’m not a doctor. If it hurts, go to the hospital. Why are you telling me?”

But not long after, I saw her at the hospital—standing beside Cyril, who had come in for nothing more than a cold.

Then there was also a time I planned a surprise for our anniversary. But on my way back, I got into a car accident.

The doctors called her, urgently asking her to come to the hospital to sign for my surgery.

Her response? “Is he dead? If not, don’t bother me.”

I heard Cyril’s excited voice in the background as she spoke. “Serena, look! The Northern Lights are beautiful. This trip was so worth it!”

When the call ended, my body was drenched in blood, staining half the hospital bed.

I could still remember the twisting pain in my chest as I lay there and died. Even now, the mere memory made it hard to breathe.

Clutching my aching heart, I let out a pale, bitter laugh.

Serena, if my love is such a burden to you, then I’ll never love you again.

That night, Stephanie and I didn’t linger. We went home early.

The next morning, I woke up groggily and reached for my phone to check the time.

But the first thing I saw was a message from Cyril.

He’d sent me a photo of Serena sleeping at his place accompanied with a message.

[Cyril: Serena stayed over at my house last night to keep me company.]

I stared at it without a hint of emotion and then replied with a simple response.

[Me: Oh.]

I didn’t give him much attention, but he wasn’t done.

Soon after, he sent me another photo—this time, it was of breakfast.

[Cyril: Serena made me breakfast this morning. She even cooked heart-shaped eggs just for me.]

Serena had never stepped foot in the kitchen when we were together.

She used to say, “I’m the princess of my family. My parents spoiled me, and I’m not about to lower my standards now that I’m with you.”

So, to take care of her, I’d gone out of my way to take cooking classes, learning how to make all her favorite meals. As long as I was around, she never had to eat anything cold or stale.

But realizing she’d gone to such lengths for Cyril made all of my efforts feel like the cruelest joke.

I stared at his message, didn’t reply, and set my phone down to finish my breakfast.

Five minutes later, I got a message from Serena herself.

She didn’t mention last night at all.

Instead, her message was:

[Serena: Those meatballs you made last time were pretty good. Make some for me today—I’ll be waiting at the office.]

Shortly after, another message from her came in.

[Serena: Oh, and don’t forget—no cilantro.]

Albion’s POV

As soon as I saw her last message, my expression quickly darkened.

Serena didn’t have an issue with cilantro. In fact, she loved it—she’d even order an extra portion whenever we had pasta.

Still, I thought for a moment before I replied.

[Me: Alright.]

After sending the message, I opened a food delivery app, randomly picked a home-cooked dish, and had it sent directly to her office.

Later that evening, after finishing up work, I went out for dinner with Stephanie.

But the moment we arrived at the restaurant we’d reserved, I spotted Serena walking in with Cyril. They were arm in arm, their faces lit with easy smiles.

When she saw us, Serena instinctively let go of his arm and walked over.

Meanwhile, Cyril’s expression shifted for a moment before he quickly followed, smiling as he said, “What a coincidence! But it looks like we’re late—no available tables. Mind if we share yours?”

Before we could respond, Serena seated herself right beside me, unbothered.

Stephanie’s eyes widened in shock. Without hesitation, she got up and switched places with her. “What are you thinking? Sitting me next to your first love—how’s that supposed to work?”

Now seated across from me, Serena looked slightly annoyed, as if waiting for me to say something.

Avoiding her gaze, I handed the menu to Cyril. “Here, Cyril. Go ahead and order. My sister and I have already decided on what we want.”

He took the menu with a casual smile. “Albion, your cooking is incredible. It’s so much better than anything you can get in a restaurant.”

His comment confirmed what I’d suspected—Serena had asked me to cook for him, not herself.

Even so, I only smiled faintly and didn’t respond.

Stephanie, with a mix of pride and teasing, chimed in, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it—he got it in his head to take cooking classes recently. He was the only guy in the class, but he stuck with it anyway. I thought he’d give up out of embarrassment, but nope. Now he’s great in the kitchen and outside of it. Whoever becomes his future girlfriend is going to be so spoiled.”

Serena had been smiling faintly, but her expression shifted at that comment. Her smile thinned, and she took a slow sip of tea. Calmly, she asked, “Albion, are you thinking about dating now?”

I looked at her, confused by the sudden question.

Recalling her words from the other day, I nodded slightly. “I’m 26 now—it’s about time I started thinking about that. If you know anyone suitable, Serena, feel free to introduce them to me.”

“You’re finally coming around!” Stephanie exclaimed, clearly more excited than anyone else. “I’ve been trying to set you up for ages, and you always turned me down. Now that you’re ready, I’ll make sure to find you the perfect girlfriend!”

As Stephanie finished speaking, Serena’s lips pressed into a tight line. Her eyes locked onto mine as if searching for something in my expression.

Cyril, noticing the change in her mood, laughed lightly. “Albion, you’re lucky to have such a caring sister. I’m honestly jealous. But, you know, I think Serena’s a great match for you. What do you think?”

“Don’t say things like that,” Serena cut in sharply, her brows furrowing. Though her tone carried a hint of reprimand, her expression was more resigned than angry.

I nodded in agreement. “Exactly. I only see Serena as a sister. Please don’t make jokes like that, Cyril.”

I paused, then added, “Besides, I think you and Serena make a better pair.”

The smile vanished from her face in an instant, replaced by a thin layer of anger. She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Is that so? Then how about I introduce someone to you? Would you take the time to meet her?”

“Of course. Thanks in advance, Serena.” My smile was bright, and I answered without hesitation.

For the next few days, I didn’t reach out to Serena, and she didn’t contact me either.

Albion’s POV

Instead, it was Cyril who came to find us.

When he arrived, Stephanie and I were both at my place.

“What do you need?” Stephanie asked, cutting straight to the point.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at me awkwardly before speaking. “Stephanie, you know how Serena and I grew up together. We were each other’s first love. Even though we’ve broken up and gotten back together a few times, there’s still something between us.”

Pausing for a second, he continued, “I was wrong to break up with her during our last fight. This time, I want to make things right—I want to confess to her and ask her to get back together. Can you two help me out?”

If I hadn’t experienced what I did in my previous life, I might have laughed in his face and told him outright that Serena loved me, not him, and she would never agree to take him back, so just gave up.

But because I had lived through it, I knew the truth. Deep down, Serena still cared for him. They were meant to be together.

“Of course! That’s easy enough to arrange,” Stephanie said with an encouraging smile. “You two have a history, and it’s obvious she hasn’t moved on. If you confess, I’m sure it’ll work out!”

Hearing that, a confident smile spread across Cyril’s face. When he looked at me, there was a glint of triumph in his eyes.

But I didn’t think much of it and brushed it aside.

Two days later, Stephanie and Serena’s close friends worked out the details for the confession. They decided that the perfect setting would be a countryside trip to watch a fire-dancing performance. After all, they said, true feelings reveal themselves in moments of excitement and chaos.

When we arrived at the venue, the crowd was massive. Since I wasn’t a fan of packed spaces, I planned to wait on the sidelines.

But Cyril wouldn’t let me off the hook. With the growing crowd, he grabbed my arm and pulled me right into the thick of it.

Soon enough, we found ourselves at the very front, where the view of the performance was crystal clear.

As the show began, fire erupted into dazzling sparks, lighting up the dark night.

Standing too close, Cyril flinched, startled by the flying sparks. Instinctively, he leaned toward Serena for protection.

Noticing his discomfort, Serena’s lips curved into a playful smile. Linking her arm with his, she teased, “You know you’re scared of fire. Why would you come up this close? Are you silly?”

“Well, as long as you’re here, I’m not afraid of anything,” he said, his tone soft and sincere.

Her eyes filled with warmth as she held his hand tightly.

In that moment, a memory from my past life flooded my mind. I remembered how things were just after Serena and I had gotten together.

Back then, I was full of hope for our future. I threw myself into our relationship, handling every little thing around the house to make her feel loved and cared for. I wanted her to feel like she truly belonged, that she had a home.

But one night, after she got drunk, I overheard her talking to Cyril.

“I feel like I have no husband,” she said, her voice slurred. “But a dad who has to micromanage me. It’s so annoying. He drives me crazy.”

Then, laughing softly, she added, “But you… you’re different. You know how to give me space. You never make me feel smothered.”

That memory hit me like a punch in the gut, and before I could dwell on it any longer, chaos erupted nearby.

A small dog suddenly darted out of nowhere, sending the crowd into a frenzy. People screamed and stumbled to get out of the way.

The commotion jolted me back to reality just as the dog charged toward me.

I reached out to pull Stephanie back, but before I could, someone shoved me hard from behind.

I lost my balance and stumbled over the safety line, finding myself dangerously close to the fired materials.

The crowd’s shouts and warnings blended into one chaotic roar.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure running toward me through the crowd.

For a brief moment, hope flickered in my chest. Was Serena coming to help me?

But no.

She rushed past me without hesitation and went straight to Cyril, who had also been pushed past the safety line.

What am I even hoping for?

I wanted to laugh at myself, but it felt too hollow. All I could feel was the sting of irony.

Thankfully, Stephanie appeared just in time. She helped me back over the safety line, supporting me as I limped on an injured ankle.

As we stepped away from the crowd, she turned to me, her voice filled with excitement. “The confession setup is ready! Let’s hurry back and see how it goes!”

Albion’s POV

Stephanie pulled me to the front entrance of the farmhouse inn.

Hanging from the love tree by the door were heart-shaped fairy lights, each one shimmering softly in the evening breeze. Among them were tokens of their past: handwritten love letters and photos of the two of them together.

Standing beneath the tree, Cyril held a bouquet of pink roses—Serena’s favorite. His voice trembled slightly as he poured his heart out to her.

Serena froze, clearly caught off guard by the spectacle.

The gentle wind brushed past, unsettling my supposedly calm thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel that even nature was testifying to the love between them. They were meant to be together. That was the best arrangement for everyone.

The crowd around us began to cheer and clap. Their voices echoed in unison: “Say yes! Say yes!”

Joining them, I clapped along and shouted, “Say yes to him!”

Serena’s head snapped toward me, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. “Albion, have you lost your mind? I’m your girlfriend!”

“What?” Stephanie, who had been quietly watching until now, widened his eyes in disbelief. “She’s your girlfriend?”