❤️To Love ❤️

Here's a rewritten version of your story: **❤️TO LOVE ❤️** **EPISODE 1** What does my perfect Mr. Right look like? Hands Gentle? Caring? For me, it’s much simpler. I just want someone to love me for who I am, an ordinary girl. But that seems to be the hardest wish to fulfill. I dragged my bags away, turning away from everything I thought I knew. I wasn’t even sure if I was drenched in rain or my own tears. Glancing up, I realized the sky remained clear, with no clouds in sight. Six months ago, I was engaged to my Mr. Right. Then everything spiraled out of control the moment I introduced him to my best friend, Nadia, two years back. "You should have seen it coming, lol! I’m going to name our daughter after you, bestie,” Nadia laughed, her arm wrapped around my ex-boyfriend’s waist. In that moment, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I didn’t dare to look back. Dizzy and weak, I fought to remain upright. I had pleaded with him for hours that we could make it work. "You and I were just a mistake. I didn’t know what I wanted when I got engaged to you. You’re not my type. I’m sorry,” he had said coldly. "But we've been together for five years! You never complained about anything. Where did I go wrong?" I cried out desperate for answers. "Five years doesn't mean we’re meant to be. Please act like an adult and stop embarrassing me. People are watching," he retorted, his voice sharp. I stood, stunned, as coworkers gawked, knowing he had come to my workplace to end our relationship in front of everyone. Our giant picture, the symbol of a perfect romance, loomed over my desk like a cruel joke. "Just tell me what I did wrong!" I pleaded. "What is it you don’t understand?” His voice was harsh, causing my heart to race, fearing he might raise his hand. My colleague Sam intervened, "Man, can you tone it down?" “Stay out of our business,” he snapped. “This is a workplace, not your living room! Where’s the security?!” Sam shouted back, anger rising. The security intervened, telling Luke to either leave peacefully or be forcibly removed. As his words hung in the air, I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "Just a minute, please!” I called out, before turning to my ex. "Can we just talk for a moment?" "Don’t call me that. Your things are outside. Pick them up," he spat before leaving. “Wow, our perfect relationship!” Kate, a colleague, mocked. Laughter erupted around me with a biting sting. I felt frozen, unable to chase after him. I sat down slowly, hands shaking, while a passerby looked at me with sympathy. “Madam, your name please,” the customer asked. I tried to put on a brave front. “You should take the rest of the day off. I’ll come back tomorrow before leaving. I bent over my desk, helplessly crying. No one here cared enough to console me. I heard whispers around me. I needed to pull myself together; I was about to lose my job. I rushed to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. After work, I hurried to my ex's place, only to find my belongings tossed outside like trash. A sharp pain filled me as I tried to comprehend my wrongs. How many times had I forgiven him? How many lives had I sacrificed to save our relationship? I crumpled down, sobbing, my heart feeling like it was bleeding. The door creaked open, and Nadia stood there. Shock washed over me; I had no idea she was part of this betrayal. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” she asked, concern etched on her face. I broke down in her arms. “Shhh, it’s alright. I’ve talked to him,” she reassured me. “How did you know?” I stammered through my tears. Just then, Luke appeared, and they exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. My heart sank. “Poor Presh,” Nadia said. “I told you that marriage wouldn’t happen before mine. I can make your man mine! You underestimated me, babe. Look She flaunted her curves, confidence radiating. “I don’t understand,” I whispered. She held a ring up. “I’m engaged—our wedding invitation card is for you.” Luke handed over a card to her; she dropped it at my feet, a cruel smile on her lips. I bent down and picked it up, wanting to laugh out of disbelief. “This is a joke, right? You two, getting married?” “Just life, honey. When you can’t keep your man, someone else will.” The room spun, a reality I couldn’t process. Hadn’t we built something together? Luke was my first love, the one I had fought for. As I replayed everything, despair overtook me. I climbed into an Uber and drove away, hopeless thoughts consuming me. Maybe the pain would stop if I just ended it all. In the rain, I searched for poison, ignoring persistent calls on my phone. I couldn’t find the means I needed, so I opted for something easier at a nearby shop. “Precious ?” I turned to see Sam from work. I plastered on a smile, hiding my turmoil. “Hey, Sam. What are you doing here?” He handed me a large bottle. “Here's your sniper,” he said casually. “Those pesky rats won’t know what hit them,” I joked bitterly. He frowned. “I called you several times. You weren’t answering. Can I walk you home?” Delighting in his concern, I agreed. With his umbrella shielding me, we walked in silence. What would he think if I told him my thoughts? As we reached my place, I tried to hurry him away. “I have a visitor,” I muttered. “Can I stay?” he asked, glancing at the bag I held. The impatience bubbled within me. I had to act normal. “Sure.” He stepped in. I stripped off my wet clothes and dried off, turning on the television to avoid the growing tension. "About what happened at work…" he started, but I hastily cut him off with a smile, dismissing the topic. "Are you sure you’re alright?" he pressed, noticing my red, puffy eyes. “I’m fine,” I managed with a forced grin. “Your ex was a jerk! I can’t believe you let him treat you like that for so long,” he said, frustration evident. “Luke isn’t a jerk! He was just… confused,” I defended feebly. Sam sighed, “He proposed to you at work, and what about today, huh? The way Jane and the others laughed?” I snapped. “What do you care, Sam? Just let me be! If they want to mock me, let them. I don’t care anymore!” Regret washed over me instantly. I didn’t mean to lash out at him; he had been my only friend. “Fine, but you need to understand—” “Ugh, no!” I interrupted, and he paused, hurt etched on his face. In a gentle tone, he said, “If you don’t have a reason to live, can I be that reason? You’re more important than you realize, Precious . You deserve to see yourself as I do.” I thought back on all I had lost—my trust, my dignity, my dreams. “I’ve had seven abortions, Sam! All because I wanted to save my relationship and held on to a fantasy. I feel like a monster,” I choked out, the weight of guilt suffocating me. “You’re not alone in this. Forgive yourself,” he urged. He left, and I crumbled to my knees. The tears flowed freely as I let my pain out, feeling more trapped than ever in a web of betrayal and remorse. This was only the beginning of my story, and even then, it felt hopeless. ---