Durante años, mirarlas me había llenado de una extraña culpa. Ahora por fin entendía por qué. Brendan había convertido mi mayor logro en la excusa para mi castigo.
A las dos de la mañana, alguien golpeó con fuerza mi puerta .
—Chloe, abre la puerta ahora mismo —gritó Brendan desde el pasillo.
Mi corazón latía con fuerza, pero me acerqué sin abrir la puerta.
—Vete, Brendan —dije con firmeza.
—¿Qué demonios te pasa? —preguntó, con un tono ligeramente molesto.
Me reí amargamente.
“Hoy en la clínica lo he oído todo.”
Silencio.
Entonces preguntó: “¿Quién te lo dijo?”
No me preguntó si estaba bien ni qué había oído. Solo le importaba quién lo había delatado.
—Nadie me avisó —respondí a través de la puerta de madera—. Los oí a ti y a tus amigos con mis propios oídos.
Brendan hizo una pausa.
“Chloe, estás exagerando por completo, como siempre.”
—¿Exageras? —grité—. ¡Me hiciste donar sangre por un accidente falso!
—Solo era una broma inofensiva —se burló.
“¿Una broma inofensiva?”, repetí con incredulidad.
—Nadie te apuntó con una pistola a la cabeza ni te obligó a donar —replicó con desdén.
El amor que aún quedaba dentro de mí desapareció.
—Tienes razón, Brendan. Nadie me obligó —dije, respirando hondo—. Hemos terminado por completo.
Brendan soltó una risa seca.
“No te compliques la vida por una pequeña broma.”
—Hemos terminado —repetí con absoluta firmeza.
—¿Vas a acabar con nosotros por esto? —gritó, con un tono cada vez más airado—. ¿Después de todo lo que he hecho por ti?
“¿Qué has hecho exactamente por mí?”, le pregunté en voz baja.
Respondió al instante.
“Te di un lugar destacado en mi vida social.”
Antes, esas palabras me habrían hecho sentir agradecida. Esa noche, por fin comprendí lo poco que había aceptado de él.
—Nunca me diste un lugar, Brendan —dije con frialdad—. Simplemente me convertiste en un saco de boxeo emocional para vengar a otra mujer.
Golpeó la puerta con el puño.
“No menciones a Scarlett en esta conversación.”
Siempre se había tratado de Scarlett.
Me quité el collar de plata que me había regalado en nuestro primer aniversario y lo deslicé por la ranura del correo.
—Vete, Brendan —dije en voz baja.
—¡Te vas a arrepentir profundamente de esta decisión, Chloe! —la amenazó antes de marcharse.
Mis padres llegaron temprano a la mañana siguiente para ayudarme a cargar mis cajas en su camión.
Mi padre notó inmediatamente el moretón en mi brazo.
—¿Brendan fue el culpable? —preguntó en voz baja, con los ojos llenos de preocupación.
Asentí con la cabeza.
No pidió nada más.
Mi madre encontró mis zapatos de baile plateados encima del cubo de basura.
“Aren’t you going to pack these away?” she asked gently.
“I never want to see them again,” I admitted.
She closed the box and handed it back to me.
“Then we will buy new ones someday, but next time you will dance purely for yourself.”
That night, we stayed at a hotel near the airport because I couldn’t handle another night alone in Pasadena.
At ten thirty, an unfamiliar number called.
“Chloe, please don’t hang up,” a woman’s voice pleaded as soon as I answered.
Scarlett.
I almost ended the call, but she quickly continued.
“I knew Brendan held a grudge, and I knew about some of his petty tricks, but I swear I had no idea about the fake blood donation.”
“How comforting,” I replied sarcastically. “So you only approved of the minor humiliations.”
Scarlett went quiet.
“You have every right to hate me.”
“You aren’t important enough for me to waste my energy hating you,” I answered honestly.
Her breathing caught.
Then she said something unexpected.
“Brendan never actually did any of this for my sake.”
I sat upright.
“What do you mean by that?”
“When I lost that competition four years ago, I cried for one night and moved on with my life, but Brendan couldn’t let it go,” she explained.
“Then why did he do it?” I demanded.
“Because you won,” Scarlett answered with a heavy sigh. “Brendan was obsessed with the idea that someone like you should never beat me.”
A chill moved through me.
“Someone like me?”
“You had no wealthy family name, no high-society connections, and no elite tutors,” Scarlett clarified. “You came from a humble background, yet you danced better and forced the people he considered superior into second place.”
Silence filled the line.
“So it was never about defending your honor,” I whispered.
“No,” Scarlett confirmed quietly. “It was entirely about Brendan’s fragile ego. And Chloe, there’s something much worse you need to know.”
“What is it?” I asked, my heart racing.
“The ninety-nine acts of revenge were not just verbal jokes among his friends,” she warned. “Brendan has been meticulously documenting every single one for years.”
“Documenting them how?”
“He keeps a secured digital folder filled with exact dates, hidden photographs, screenshots, and videos,” Scarlett revealed.
“Why would he keep all of that?” I asked in horror.
“Because they planned to unveil the entire file to you tomorrow night,” Scarlett admitted. “Number ninety-nine was showing you the whole archive in front of everyone at a party, telling you that your entire three-year relationship was just an experiment to see how much humiliation you would tolerate for love.”
I looked toward the adjoining room where my parents were sleeping.
Brendan hadn’t just planned to leave me.
He wanted to break me completely.
“Chloe,” Scarlett whispered nervously before hanging up, “you need to know who helped Brendan organize this nightmare from the very start.”
“It was Liam,” Scarlett confessed right before the line went completely dead.
I stared at the hotel wall in disbelief.
Liam was Brendan’s cousin, but he had also been the first person to make me feel welcome when Brendan and I started dating.
He attended my birthdays, shared holidays with my family, and once sat beside my mother in a hospital waiting room when Brendan claimed he was too busy.
