Dylan and Taylor
Author's pov
This is how Daisy and Sadie became not just friends, but sisters. Daisy eventually broke up with her boyfriend because he was cheating on her, and she got engaged to Ryan, the man her grandma introduced to her.
Juliana and Johnson got married, and Luke and Stephanie started dating again and got married a few years later.
Sadie gave birth to twins, and they exchanged their marriage vows, becoming husband and wife and Sadie's mother eventually accepted Sadie's choice of marrying Justin.
The twins were named Taylor and Dylan. Taylor was Justin's favorite, while Dylan was Sadie's favorite. They didn't always get along well from a young age. As they grew up, something happened and Dylan decided to leave the city angrily, and after three years, he needed to attend his parents' important wedding anniversary and this time, Taylor and Dylan were twenty-three years old. It was during this time that Dylan met Larisa, Taylor's girlfriend.
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Larisa couldn't stop thinking about her passionate secret night with Dylan. As she considered ending her relationship with her controlling boyfriend, Taylor, she was caught off guard when Taylor unexpectedly presented her with an engagement ring. Now Larisa faced a challenging decision. Should she accept the ring and continue enduring her suffocating relationship, or should she escape to be with Dylan? How could Larisa and Dylan start a relationship without Taylor finding out? Could we speculate that Dylan pursued his twin brother's girlfriend out of a desire for revenge?
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Larisa's pov
"Why on earth did you buy something like this?" Taylor bellowed at me as I turned around to reveal the red gown I had purchased for his parents' anniversary. Those were not the words I had anticipated. I had hoped for a compliment, but instead, his words pierced my heart. I gazed at him, stunned, as he continued his verbal assault.
"Is it because I didn't go with you to the boutique? Is that why you chose something like this? Did you buy it yourself, or did some young man at the boutique purchase it for you?" His words struck me with force, and my expression shifted accordingly.
"Why are you saying things like this? I bought it myself," I blurted out, my hands involuntarily spreading wide. He remained deadly serious as he delivered another blow.
"Did you think I would allow you to flaunt your figure in front of other men at my parents' anniversary? Tell me honestly, did you buy this gown to attract attention at the party? This is the type of outfit that women wear in public places to entice men."
"What?" I exclaimed, taking a few steps back. This was Taylor, my boyfriend, sitting in a wheelchair. Just a few weeks ago, no one would have imagined him moving around his house with a broken leg. It was still unbelievable that he had suddenly taken up intense exercises to strengthen his muscles merely two weeks before his parents' anniversary, only to end up breaking his right leg in the process.
"You seize every opportunity to reveal your true colors," he said, delivering a painful remark.
He hadn't changed, I thought to myself. I wouldn't have come to his house to help him if it weren't for his broken leg. This was a crucial time for him, and I knew he had done a lot for me, particularly financially supporting my mother's extensive medical bills. But I couldn't continue like this. I paused, lost in contemplation.
About four weeks ago, he surprised me by showing up at my workplace with my lunch. As I was wrapping up my sales, he witnessed a customer exchanging pleasantries with me. Suddenly, Taylor erupted, accusing me of cheating on him, just as the man's wife emerged from the restroom. He even insinuated that I wanted to exchange numbers with the man. It was incredibly humiliating, especially in front of other customers waiting to pay and my colleagues. I nearly lost my job because our managing director happened to be present. Thankfully, my manager intervened and whisked me away from the cash desk to defuse the situation. It was then that I realized we needed more breathing space in our relationship, and if it weren't for his injury, I wouldn't have found myself in his house.
This wasn't the first time he accused me of infidelity whenever other guys glanced in my direction. He would claim that I purposely sought their attention. We would argue briefly, but I always managed to find a reason to come back, just like now when he needed my assistance.
When I asked him why he suddenly started going to the gym, his explanation seemed absurd to me. He said it was because his twin brother was visiting. I couldn't fathom the connection between the two. Moreover, I hadn't even met his brother throughout our thirteen-month relationship. According to him, his twin brother resided in London, and both of them were set to visit their parents' place tomorrow morning.
I couldn't stand Taylor's behavior any longer. His jealousy had pushed me to my limit. Every time it happened, I forgave him and fell back into his arms. But now, I have reached a breaking point. If wearing this red gown meant the end of our relationship, so be it. Enough was enough.
"You will not wear this gown to the party. Hand it over to me, and I'll set it on fire," he declared.
"Set it on fire?" My voice raised involuntarily.
"I'm willing to pay you double the amount you spent on the gown," he added.
"I'd rather not go to the party with you than witness this gown burning," I replied firmly.
I had believed that after his promise and genuine apology for his actions at my workplace, I had regained the freedom to buy whatever I pleased. But just a few weeks later, he had made up his mind to either destroy my gown or forbid me from wearing it.
He swiftly maneuvered his wheelchair towards me, determined to take the gown by force. However, I quickly evaded his grasp, and I could see the pain in his eyes. If he weren't confined to a wheelchair, I felt he might resort to violence before taking the gown. It was the first time I had stood up to him so courageously. For once, he was powerless, and I relished in this newfound sense of strength. If it weren't for his disability, he might have lashed out at me. The agony in his eyes was very clear.
"Are you doing this to me just because I can't move freely?" His words were filled with anger, and strangely, they were the sweetest I had ever heard from him. I wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain he had inflicted on me, all in the name of love.
"This is the dress I want to wear. I don't see anything wrong with it," I said again.
"Are you challenging me? Are you shouting at me? When did you start behaving like this?" His face displayed annoyance and concern.
"Why am I even here in the first place?" I said with a regretful tone.
I pulled the gown and began packing the few belongings I had brought. I was ready to leave. Taylor couldn't believe what he was witnessing at first.
"Are you leaving me?" he asked incredulously.
"That's enough. I'm going home. You just called me a whore," I responded firmly.
"I didn't call you a whore, but wearing this gown gives off that impression. Don't twist my words," he finally lowered his voice, realizing that he needed my presence due to his condition. I couldn't bear it at that moment. I grabbed my bag, slammed the door, and left.
As I walked out of his house, I let out a heavy sigh. I didn't know what had come over me, but I felt a sense of relief as I distanced myself from his grip.
His good looks and tall stature weren't worth all this trouble. That's what initially attracted me to him. I thought I was the luckiest woman when he first showed interest in me. Despite my slightly overweight figure at the time we met, he made me feel like the queen of his world. I decided to work on my body, hoping to make him even prouder of me. My efforts paid off, and I achieved the shape I have today, which he was thrilled about. He would take me shopping on numerous occasions, proudly introducing me to his friends and encouraging me to visit his workplace, all with the intention of showing me off and showering me with compliments. I mistook this for affection, but over time, his words and actions became invisible chains that bound me to him.
Taylor had become my addiction. Every time I grew weary and wanted some space, something mysterious or extraordinary would occur, drawing us back together. I became hooked on his methods of winning me back, convincing myself that he was the one I needed and deserved above all else.
I noticed this pattern eight months ago, and I knew it wasn't healthy in a relationship. But I held onto the hope that as our relationship progressed, things would improve, or I would find a way to mold the relationship according to my desires. I never divulged his negative side to my close friends, who only saw the glamorous aspects of our relationship. Deep down, I was searching for my own path.
It was 9:30 AM, and my entire weekend had just been completely disrupted over a choice of outfit. I stopped a white taxi, my face brimming with anger, as I climbed into the back seat.
A few minutes later, my phone began to ring. I immediately knew it was Taylor, but I refused to answer. Seconds later, my phone rang again. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, but my expression dissuaded him from saying anything. After four unanswered calls, the ringing ceased, and there was silence in the car for a few minutes. Then, I received a text message notification. Initially, I didn't want to read it. I had made up my mind to take a long break from Taylor, or even end our relationship if possible. I was so determined not to go back, but eventually, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to open the text message.
"Hi Larisa! This is the worst possible time for us to have this misunderstanding. You know about my current health condition, which prevents me from helping myself. My twin brother is arriving in the country later today, and we had agreed that you and I would go and pick him up from the airport. You know I can't drive because of my broken leg. Who do you expect to pick him up for me? You can wear whatever you want. Please come back. Not just for me, but for the sake of my twin brother who is coming. I need someone to take me to the airport and welcome him. Remember how I helped with your mum's medical bills, how I almost emptied my bank account. Are you leaving me stranded at home?"
After reading this message, my brain froze for a few seconds. What should I do? Should I ask the driver to turn around and go back? I never expected him to send such a conflicting message.
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