He Chose Her, I Wed My Rival

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My old wrist injury flared up at the French Open finals.

But Lucas sent the medical team to Serena. She'd only sprained her ankle.

After seven years together, his constant favoritism finally killed our relationship.

He had sex with her in our bed.

Then came the acid. A thug threw it at us. He didn't hesitate. He shoved me aside to protect her.

I was done. I posted about calling off our engagement.

My longtime rival Griffin called. "Want to switch fiancs? How about me?"

Stella's POV

France, Roland-Garros Stadium.

On the clay court, I was drenched in sweat, my right hand trembling uncontrollably as I gripped the racket.

A Grand Slam final. Match point. My old wrist injury had flared up.

Piercing pain shot through my nerves, making it nearly impossible to hold the racket.

During the mid-match break, I looked toward the family viewing section, my face pale.

It was empty.

My boyfriend of seven years, Lucas Luton, hadn't come.

Not only had he not come. The top-tier medical team he'd promised to accompany me hadn't shown up either.

"Your wrist needs immediate ice and physical therapy. Where's your medical team?"

My foreign coach asked anxiously.

I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and dialed the number I knew by heart.

The phone rang for a long time before being answered. Lucas's characteristically cold voice came through.

"Is the match over?"

"Lucas, my old wrist injury flared up."

My voice trembled slightly.

"Why didn't the medical team come to France?"

A pause. Then he answered, his tone almost casual.

"Serena sprained her ankle skiing the day before yesterday and has been very emotionally unstable. I wasn't comfortable leaving her alone in the country, so I had the medical team stay to take care of her."

I felt like I'd plunged into an ice cave.

Serena, Lucas's mentor's daughter.

"She just sprained her ankle, and I'm playing in a Grand Slam final!"

I bit my lip hard.

"Lucas, you promised me that if I won this championship, we'd get engaged."

"Stella, can you not be so selfish?"

Lucas's voice turned cold.

"Serena has been frail since childhood and can't handle shocks. You're in great physical condition. What's the big deal about getting through one match without the medical team? We'll talk about the engagement later. I need to accompany Serena for her checkup. I'm hanging up."

The dial tone cut through me like a dull knife.

I took a deep breath, forced myself through the excruciating wrist pain, and walked back onto the court.

But no miracle occurred.

The severe injury caused me to make frequent mistakes. I ultimately lost 0-2, missing the most important championship of my professional career.

At the awards ceremony, I held the runner-up plate in silence for a long time.

Back in the locker room, my phone vibrated.

It was a message from Serena.

A photo.

In the photo, Lucas was bending down, gently putting ice on Serena's swollen ankle.

His profile was impossibly gentle. A tenderness I'd rarely seen in seven years.

The caption read: "My ankle hurts so much, but with Lucas here, it doesn't seem to hurt anymore."

I stared at that photo for a long time, until my eyes felt dry and sore.

I didn't cry.

I used to get angry. I used to argue. Every time I saw Lucas's special care for Serena.

But now? I just felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

Seven years.

I fell in love with Lucas at first sight when I was eighteen. To pursue him, I gave up the opportunity to study at a top tennis academy abroad and stayed in his city.

Lucas was famously aloof in our circle. Cold and noble.

Everyone said he had no heart, but like a little sun, I pestered him relentlessly until I finally warmed this block of ice.

I thought I was special.

Until Serena returned to the country.

With just one phone call from Serena, Lucas could abandon me when I had a high fever.

With just one word about being scared, Lucas could miss my birthday party.

Now, even the most important final of my professional career, even the medical team I desperately needed. He could strip it all away without hesitation, just to treat Serena's sprained ankle.

I closed my eyes and turned my phone face-down on the table.

So in Lucas's heart, my dreams, my pain, my seven years of youth. None of it compared to one cry of pain from Serena.

I stood up and carelessly stuffed the runner-up plate into my tennis bag.

The pain in my wrist continued, but what hurt more was a heart that had gone completely cold.

Stella's POV

After more than ten hours of flying, I dragged my luggage back to the city alone.

The moment I pushed open the villa door, deafening music hit me.

The spacious living room had been transformed into a luxurious party. Champagne towers. Balloons. Streamers. A crowd of elegantly dressed guests.

At the center of the crowd, Lucas stood in a haute couture suit, holding a wine glass, looking tenderly at Serena beside him.

Serena wore a white designer gown like a proud little princess, holding a golden trophy.

It was a championship from an amateur tennis club's friendly match.

"Lucas, thank you for throwing this party for me!"

Serena smiled radiantly.

Lucas reached out and ruffled her hair, his tone indulgent.

"You deserve it."

Standing in the entryway, I watched this scene and found it utterly absurd.

For my Grand Slam final, he wouldn't even provide a medical team.

For Serena's amateur competition, he threw an extravagant party.

My appearance instantly silenced the noisy living room.

Lucas turned around. Seeing my face and the tennis bag in my hand, he instinctively frowned.

"Why did you come back early? Didn't you say you were staying in France for rehabilitation?"

His tone held no concern, only displeasure at being disturbed.

I didn't answer, just looked at him quietly.

Seeing this, Serena immediately walked over and spoke up.

"Stella, you're back! I watched your match. What a shame. you were so close. Don't be too upset. Lucas said your psychological resilience is just too weak. You'll do better next time!"

Psychological resilience too weak?

I laughed coldly.

If not for the excruciating wrist pain without medical intervention, how would I have lost?

"My business isn't yours to comment on."

I gave Serena a cold glance.

Serena's eyes immediately reddened as she shrank behind Lucas, looking aggrieved.

"Lucas, did I say something wrong and upset Stella?"

Lucas's face darkened. He pulled Serena behind him and scolded me harshly.

"Stella, why are you taking it out on Serena? You lost the match because you weren't good enough. Coming back here with that attitude. Who are you trying to impress?"

Not good enough.

Those four words coming from Lucas's mouth felt like a resounding slap across my face.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitterness in my heart.

"Lucas, come upstairs with me."

Without waiting for a response, I headed straight to the second floor.

A few minutes later, Lucas pushed open the bedroom door. He tugged at his tie, looking somewhat impatient.

"What are you making a fuss about now? Serena finally won a championship, and you have to spoil it at this moment?"

"When are you planning to arrange our engagement?"

I looked directly into his eyes, not beating around the bush.

Lucas's movements paused. His eyes shifted away briefly before his face turned cold.

"Didn't I tell you on the phone? We'll discuss it later."

"How much later is 'later'?"

"Stella, can you be reasonable?"

Lucas's voice rose several notches.

"Serena's depression has relapsed recently. The doctor said she can't handle any stress. If we make a big deal about getting engaged right now, she won't be able to handle it. My mentor entrusted her to me before he died. I can't ignore her."

I laughed until tears nearly came.

"She can't handle stress, so I deserve to be mistreated? Deserve to have no official status?"

"It's just postponed, not canceled."

Lucas frowned, seeming to find me unreasonable.

"When did you become so calculating? What happened to the understanding Stella from before?"

Looking at this man before me, I suddenly felt he was completely unfamiliar.

That understanding Stella had been killed long ago by his repeated favoritism and coldness.

"Fine. I understand."

I looked away.

Lucas, thinking I'd yielded, nodded with satisfaction.

"Get some rest. I'm going downstairs to help Serena cut the cake."

The door closed, shutting out the laughter and joy from downstairs.

I stood in the empty room, looking down at my slightly swollen right wrist, my heart growing cold.

Stella's POV

The next day, I went to the downtown hospital to have my wrist checked.

The doctor looked at the scans with a grave expression.

"Stella, your wrist has severe soft tissue damage. Because it wasn't iced and treated immediately, chronic inflammation has now formed. You need at least three months of rest, or it will affect your professional career."

I listened silently, got my prescription, and left the hospital.

Passing by a luxury residential complex downtown, I stopped the car.

This was where Lucas had bought a large flat six months ago, saying it would be our future marital home.

At the time, Lucas gave me the keys and let me handle all the renovations.

I put a lot of thought into it, decorating the place in my favorite minimalist wood style.

I took the elevator upstairs and pulled out my key to open the door.

However, the lock made a "beep beep" error sound.

The password had been changed.

I froze for a moment, about to call property management, when the door opened from inside.

Serena stood inside wearing silk pajamas. Seeing me, she also froze, then revealed a triumphant smile.

"Stella? What are you doing here?"

I looked at the pink slippers by the entrance and the pink sofa and curtains that had replaced my carefully chosen furniture in the living room. Blood rushed to my head.

"Why are you here?"

I stared at her intently.

Serena blinked innocently.

"Lucas didn't tell you? My old apartment had poor security. Lucas was worried about me, so he let me stay in this place. Oh my, Stella, don't mind. I'm just staying temporarily."

Temporary? They changed the password. They replaced all my furniture. And called it temporary?

I ignored Serena and called Lucas.

"Lucas, what's going on with the Cloudwater Bay property?"

On the other end, Lucas's voice carried a hint of impatience.

"Serena is all alone in the country with no one to rely on, and something happened at her previous apartment. I let her stay at Cloudwater Bay for a few days. What's the problem?"

"That's our marital home!"

I gripped my phone tightly.

"It's just a property. Do you need to make such a big deal out of it?"

Lucas's tone was self-righteous.

"Serena has trouble sleeping and prefers warm tones, so I had the soft furnishings changed a bit. If you really don't like it, we'll just buy another place later."

Just a property.

With one casual phrase, he erased six months of my effort and completely crushed my last bit of hope for this relationship.

"Lucas, do you think that as long as it's for Serena, I should yield no matter what?"

I said calmly.

"What are you making a fuss about now? I told you, I only see her as a sister!"

Lucas impatiently cut me off.

"I have a meeting soon. I don't have time to listen to your unreasonable complaints."

The call ended.

I looked at the screen. A sense of relief washed over me.

Seven years of obsession. Gone in an instant.

I didn't spare Serena another glance and turned to enter the elevator.

Back in my car, I pulled out my phone, opened Ins, and edited a post.

"Engagement canceled. Seven years fed to the dogs. Now looking for a new fianc. Any takers?"

I clicked send and blocked Lucas.

I thought this was just an emotional vent post that no one would take seriously.

However, just three minutes later, an unfamiliar yet familiar number called.

Griffin.

Seeing that name, I froze.

Griffin and I grew up together. We were also lifelong rivals.

We fought from kindergarten all the way through high school, until college when I gave up studying abroad at a top tennis academy to stay in Lucas's city, while Griffin went overseas. That's when we lost contact.

I'd heard he now ran the family business and had become the head of the country's largest sports conglomerate.

I answered the call. Before I could speak, a deep, magnetic male voice came through, with a hint of barely detectable nervousness.

"Stella, if you want to switch fiancs, how about me?"

Stella's POV

The car interior fell deathly silent.

I held the phone, taking a long time to find my voice.

"Griffin, what kind of joke is this?"

"I'm not joking."

The voice on the other end became utterly serious.

"Stella, since Lucas doesn't treasure you, let me. We grew up together. I absolutely won't let you suffer even the slightest grievance."

I lowered my eyes, looking at my bandaged wrist.

Seven years of love. I'd lost completely and utterly.

But I, Stella, was never someone who would wallow in the mud.

Since I'd decided to cut ties, I would cut them completely clean.

"Okay."

I took a deep breath.

"Give me half a month to handle things here, then I'll come find you."

"You don't need to come back."

Griffin laughed lightly, his tone carrying unquestionable authority.

"I'm flying there tomorrow to pick you up. Your wrist needs the best doctors. I've already made arrangements."

After hanging up, a long-absent warmth surged in my heart.

So this was what it felt like to be firmly chosen and properly taken care of.

The next morning, I arrived on time at the "Starshine" tennis club where I was based.

Just as I reached the manager's office door, I heard Lucas's voice.

"Give the US Open wildcard to Serena."

Lucas's tone was a command that brooked no refusal.

I froze mid-reach for the door handle.

Lucas's Luton Corporation was Starshine Club's biggest sponsor.

The manager looked troubled.

"Mr. Luton, this isn't right. Stella earned that wildcard. Serena is an amateur. This..."

"Stella's wrist is injured. She needs to rest."

Lucas coldly interrupted him.

"Serena's been emotionally low lately. She needs a high-profile competition to rebuild her confidence. This is decided."

"Not only that,"

Lucas paused, then continued,

"Have Stella serve as Serena's practice partner during this time and coach her technique."

Standing outside the door, I was so angry I had to laugh.

Make a Grand Slam runner-up serve as practice partner for an amateur? And hand over the US Open wildcard I'd fought for with my life?

Lucas, just how shameless could you be?

I pushed open the door and walked straight in.

Seeing me, Lucas showed no embarrassment at being caught. Instead, he spoke matter-of-factly.

"Perfect timing. You heard what I just said, right? Your wrist can't handle high-intensity matches anyway, so give the wildcard to Serena. The practice partner arrangement is for your own good too. Keep your touch."

I looked at this well-dressed, handsome man and felt my stomach churn.

"Lucas, what makes you think I'd agree to such an absurd demand?"

I looked at him coldly.

Lucas frowned.

"Stella, can you not be so selfish? Serena needs this opportunity!"

"She needs it, so I must give it to her?"

I walked to the desk, pulled a document from my bag, and slammed it down heavily.

"This is my contract termination application."

I looked at the manager.

"I'll pay the penalty. Every cent."

The manager was shocked.

"Stella, don't be impulsive!"

Lucas's face instantly darkened.

"Stella, you're threatening me with termination?"

"Threaten?"

I smiled mockingly.

"Lucas, you think too highly of yourself. I just feel that staying in a club that can't even guarantee basic athlete dignity is disgusting."

"You!"

Lucas shot to his feet, his eyes sharp.

"Fine, very good! Stella, you've grown bold! Let me see which club dares sign a defective product with a ruined wrist!"

"No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Luton."

I turned around, spine straight, and walked out of the office without a backward glance.

Lucas watched my retreating figure and laughed coldly.

I didn't need to look back to know he must be thinking I was just throwing a tantrum and would come crying back to him within three days.

After all, he thought I loved him that much.

Stella's POV

The termination was handled smoothly. Though the penalty was a huge sum, my prize money and endorsements over the years were enough to cover it.

That afternoon, I returned to the villa and started packing my belongings.

I packed clothes, rackets, and trophies into boxes one by one, my movements efficient and resolute.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to find Serena standing outside with several shopping bags, smiling innocently.

"Stella, Lucas said you were resting at home today, so I came specially to see you."

Serena spoke while walking right in uninvited.

She placed the shopping bags on the sofa, deliberately revealing a dazzling diamond bracelet on her wrist.

"Stella, do you think this bracelet is beautiful? Lucas specially accompanied me to the mall today to pick it out. He said I wear it better than you ever could."

I glanced at the bracelet. It was the one I'd chosen last month, planning to use as an engagement gift.

"Done showing off? Then get out."

I couldn't even be bothered to give her an extra glance and continued packing.

Seeing my reaction, Serena bit her lip, malice flashing in her eyes.

"Stella, actually you packing up and leaving is the right thing to do. Lucas doesn't love you at all. He's just used to you throwing yourself at him. Now that I'm back, you should have known to make way."

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her coldly.

"Serena, do you think picking up garbage I threw away is something to be proud of?"

"You!"

Serena was livid.

Just then, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the villa.

Several extreme fans wearing masks and carrying banners broke through the residential security and rushed toward the main gate.

"Stella! You match-fixing fraud! Give us back our hard-earned money!"

It turned out my loss in the French Open finals had caused some underground gambling extremists to lose money, and they'd come for revenge.

The situation instantly spiraled out of control.

At that moment, Lucas's car pulled up at the villa entrance. He'd just gotten out when he saw the chaotic scene.

"Lucas! Help!"

Serena screamed in terror, stumbling as she ran outside.

An extreme fan holding a glass bottle filled with unknown liquid aimed viciously at Serena and me.

"Go to hell!"

In that critical moment, Lucas rushed over.

I was closer to him. I thought he'd pull me aside.

But Lucas walked right past me. He pulled Serena into his arms and shoved me out of the way.

"Serena, watch out!"

I was shoved off balance and fell hard onto the gravel driveway.

The bottle of unknown liquid splashed onto the wall beside us, releasing a pungent acidic smell and instantly corroding the paint. It was sulfuric acid!

If I hadn't reacted quickly and rolled to the side, that sulfuric acid would have splashed directly on my face.

But my right wrist slammed hard against the sharp corner of a step when I fell.

Piercing pain instantly engulfed my entire body. I broke out in cold sweat and nearly passed out from the agony.

Security finally arrived and subdued the extreme fans.

Lucas nervously checked over Serena in his arms.

"Serena, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Serena cried, her face covered in tears.

"Lucas, I was so scared."

After confirming Serena was unharmed, Lucas finally turned to look at me, sitting collapsed on the ground.

I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes.

"Stella, are you okay?"

Lucas walked over, looking down at me from above, his tone carrying irritated explanation.

"You react fast and have good physical conditioning. Serena's body is weak. She couldn't dodge. I could only protect her first."

I raised my head, looking at this man I'd loved for seven years.

The excruciating wrist pain reminded me that my professional career might truly be finished because of that push he just gave me.

No anger. No hysteria.

"I understand."

I steadied myself against the wall and struggled to my feet, not sparing Lucas another glance as I limped back into the villa.

In that moment, I didn't know if panic surged in his heart.

I only knew that something was completely leaving me.

Stella's POV

The villa was terrifyingly quiet that evening.

After Lucas calmed Serena down, he finally came home.

I didn't need to guess to know he expected my accusations and arguments. He'd already prepared his explanations.

But the living room was empty.

He went upstairs to the bedroom and pushed open the door. I sat at the vanity, clumsily rewrapping the bandage on my right wrist with my left hand.

Lucas cleared his throat and spoke.

"Today was an accident. To make it up to you, I booked your favorite restaurant. I'll take you for a good meal."

I paused my movements but didn't refuse.

"Okay."

Half an hour later, we arrived at the restaurant.

Pushing open the private room door, my steps halted.

Serena sat inside. Seeing us, she smiled sweetly.

"Stella, Lucas said you were frightened today, so he specially brought me to apologize to you."

I said nothing and pulled out a chair to sit down.

Lucas called over a waiter and ordered a whole table of dishes without even looking at the menu.

"Lobster, king crab, oysters..."

All seafood.

After the dishes arrived, Lucas pushed almost all the seafood in front of Serena.

"You were scared today. Eat more to recover."

Serena thanked him shyly, then looked at me with only a glass of lemon water.

"Stella, why aren't you eating? This seafood is expensive. You probably can't usually afford it, right?"

I looked at the table full of seafood and smiled.

Seven years.

Lucas didn't even know I was severely allergic to seafood.

Or maybe he knew. He just didn't care. His mind was full of only what Serena liked to eat.

"I'm not hungry."

I stood up.

"You two take your time. I'm heading back."

"Stella, what's wrong with you now?"

Lucas slammed the table, furious.

"I take you out to eat, and you give me that attitude. Who's that supposed to be for?"

I looked at his angry expression and almost laughed.

"Enjoy your food, Lucas. Don't let it go cold."

With that, I walked out of the private room without looking back.

Returning to the villa, I pulled out several large black trash bags.

I swept it all into trash bags. The matching outfits Lucas bought. The necklaces. Even the matching toothbrush cups.

Then I took down our photos from the wall and fed them into the shredder without a second thought.

Finally, I took off the engagement ring I'd worn for three years.

Lucas had bought it on a whim three years ago, after my first tour championship win, just to keep me happy.

But I'd treated it like treasure.

I set the ring on the living room table, using it to hold down a sticky note.

The note had only one line.

"Lucas, we're done. I'm going home to marry someone else."

Then I dragged two suitcases out of the villa. The place that had trapped me for seven years.