Ten times better

Blood ties, broken promises

Coming out from a chattering scene she could not go straight to her parents residence, She hailed a cab and told the driver to take her to the nearest hotel, any place that would let her hide under a thin blanket and pretend the world hadn't just turned upside‑down.

The hotel room was a bland beige, the kind of place where the TV never quite caught the right channel. She dropped her suitcase on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and sank onto the bed. The pillow was cold, but it was the only thing that felt real.

She pulled out her phone, thumb scrolling through a slideshow of happier times: Billie and Alex laughing on a rooftop in Paris, the way his eyes lit up when she handed him a croissant, the goofy selfie they took in front of the Eiffel Tower with a filter that made the sky look pink. Each picture was a tiny stab, a reminder of what she'd lost in a single, cruel moment.

Tears blurred the screen, they fell onto the cheap hotel sheets, soaking into the fabric like a secret she couldn't keep. She cried until her throat was raw, until the night outside the window turned from dusk to deep black.

Just as she was about to drift into an exhausted sleep, her phone buzzed. It was her mother. Billie stared at the name, heart hammering, Lena must have told them, she thought— she answered the call with a shaky voice "Hello?"

"Billie," her mother's voice was calm, almost too calm. "The driver will be at the hotel tomorrow morning to pick you up, send him your location and be ready We'll talk when you get home."

The call ended. No "I love you," no "Are you okay?" Just a directive, as if the world had already moved on without her.

The next morning, the driver—a polite man in a crisp black suit—picked her up from the hotel. The ride to her parents' house was quiet and the occasional glance at the city she'd left six months ago, reminded her of every single thing she'd lost in a moment. When the car pulled into the driveway, the garden was already buzzing with a quiet, unsettling energy.

Her parents were sitting at a wrought‑iron table under a pergola, sipping tea from delicate porcelain cups. The steam rose in thin curls, mixing with the early morning mist. Beside them, Lena—her sister—sat with a smile, her hands clasped around a teacup. Alex stood a few steps away, his shoulders hunched, eyes darting between the ground and the garden path.

"Good morning, Billie," her father said, his voice smooth but edged with something Billie couldn't place. "Come, have some tea."

Billie took the seat opposite them, the cold metal of the chair biting into her skin. She looked at Lena, then at Alex, then back at her parents. The garden, once a place of childhood games and summer barbecues, now felt like a stage set for a performance she hadn't rehearsed.

"Billie," her mother began, setting her cup down with a soft clink, "we need to talk about Alex and Lena."

Lena's smile widened, a flash of triumph flickering in her eyes.

Her father spoke first "it's obvious that alex and Lena are in love and wants to be with each other" he said avoiding her gaze

Alex shifted his weight, his gaze flickering to Billie for a brief, apologetic moment before he looked away.

Her mother cut in, her tone firm. "You were selfish, Billie. You left the country, all because of a project that haven't fetched us money for the past 6 months, you left Alex alone with no one to keep him company, he was lonely and Lena...— her gaze turned to Lena rubbing her cheek "she stepped in she was there for Alex"

Her father leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table he spoke in whispers not wanting Alex to hear him "You know the Don's family is offering a massive investment if one of our daughters marries into their line. Alex is the youngest son. This could save our business, Billie. Our company is going bankrupt so we can't afford to lose this opportunity."

Billie's mind raced. The project she'd been pouring her life into for six months—just two weeks left to finish up the project in Paris and her so called fiancé couldn't wait?

She turned her gaze to Lena, the sister who had once shared secrets and midnight snacks, the one who now sat across from her with a smirk that said, "I AM BETTER OFF WITH HIM"

"Are you really going to do this to me?" Billie asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but steady enough to cut through the polite veneer.

Lena's eyes softened she tried to act innocent "I'm not taking anything from you, Billie. I'm just... helping."

Her mother's lips pursed. "You're being selfish, Billie. Think about the family. Think about what we've built."

The garden seemed to close in around them, the scent of blooming roses suddenly cloying. Billie felt the familiar surge of anger and hurt, but also a strange, quiet resolve. She pushed her chair back, the legs scraping against the stone.

She stood, looking at each of them—her parents, her sister, Alex—her eyes lingering on the man she had once imagined a future with. The words she wanted to say tangled in her throat, but she didn't need them. She simply turned, her heels clicking against the garden path as she walked away.

"Billie—" her father called, but she didn't stop.

She didn't look back. The garden gate swung shut behind her, the soft click echoing like a period at the end of a sentence.

She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time since she'd landed in the usa she felt the weight of her own choices—not the expectations of others—settling on her shoulders. And that, she realized, was enough to keep moving forward.