Scammed Heart

06

I never reached out to Graham again after that night.

Life continued as usual, with one small difference—Asher was now a part of it.

Some nights, we’d grab dinner or see a movie together. On weekends, we’d take walks in the park or browse through stores. Thanks to Asher, I was beginning to experience what it felt like to be in a normal relationship.

But sometimes, no matter how hard I tried, thoughts of Graham still crept in.

That weekend, I had to take a business trip to LA with a coworker.

And just as I was drifting off to sleep in my hotel room, a weak voice pulled me back.

“Rose… my stomach hurts.”

I sat up instantly. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

The nearest hospital was the one Graham worked at. My fingers hovered over my phone, typing in his number, then deleting it. Typing it in again.

In the end, I put my phone down.

I didn’t expect to run into him anyway.

But fate had other plans.

“Rose?”

I turned to see Graham standing in the ER, concern etched on his face. He stepped closer. “Are you feeling sick again?”

I hadn’t expected him to be on shift tonight. The encounter threw me off balance.

And… how did he know about my stomach issues?

“No, I’m fine.” I averted my eyes. “It’s my coworker.”

As I turned to leave, Graham followed. “Rose—”

“Dr. Graham.”

A woman’s voice cut in smoothly.

Silva.

She stepped between us, her hand wrapping around Graham’s arm. “Bed six called for emergency assistance. Can you take a look?”

Graham’s expression shifted—his warmth fading into professional calmness. He nodded at her, then turned back to me, as if he wanted to say something.

I took a step back.

“You should go.”

Then I walked away, as fast as I could.

“Hey, Rose…”

My coworker, still her their stomach, squinted in thought.

“Did you notice that girl just now? She kind of looks like you.”

I forced a smile. “I guess I just have common face and looks like anyone else.”

I played along, laughing at my own expense. But inside, my chest felt tight.

Later, when my coworker finally fell asleep, I slipped outside to the hospital’s rooftop for some air.

A message popped up on my phone.

Graham: Wait for me.

I didn’t reply.

Then my phone rang.

“What are you doing?”

Asher’s voice was steady, but I could hear the underlying concern.

“One of my coworkers got drunk. I’m keeping her company.”

There was a pause. Then, softly—

“Have you been crying?”

“No, my voice is just hoarse.”

“Send me your location. I’m coming over.”

“Asher, you really don’t have to. It’s not even me who’s sick. You’re overreacting.”

“If it’s about you, it’s never overreacting.”

His voice was warm, reassuring.

“Besides, this is a good chance to test my new car’s speed. Start the timer for me.”

One and a half hours.

That’s how long it took Asher to drive from San Diego to LA, just to be with me.

I stood outside the hospital entrance, waiting for him, when two voices called my name at the same time.

“Rose.”

Graham was standing barely six feet away.

“Can we talk?”

Before I could answer, Asher strode up, a cool night breeze trailing behind him.

Right in front of Graham, he took my hand. “How’s your coworker doing?”

I saw the brief flicker of surprise on Graham’s face.

I looked away. “Almost done.”

“I’ll drive you both back.”

Asher didn’t even glance at him. He simply led me past Graham as if he weren’t there.

I could feel Graham’s gaze on me the entire time.

Behind us, another voice spoke up.

“You’re done already?”

Silva stepped out of the hospital doors. She started to say something else but paused when she saw Asher and me together.

For a moment, the four of us stood there in awkward silence—two past lovers and their new partners.

If I weren’t directly involved, I might’ve found the scene almost funny.

Silva’s eyes flickered between Asher and me, her expression unreadable.

Then, as if making a statement, she looped her arm through Graham’s.

“Let’s go.”

Graham hesitated for a second, then let her lead him away.

I exhaled heavily. Before I could say anything, Asher draped an arm over my shoulders, half-dragging me toward the parking lot. His tone was lazy, teasing.

“Regretting your choices?”

I smirked. “Not at all. But you—seeing your ‘true love’ again, and not even flinching?”

He squeezed my shoulder lightly.

“My true love is standing right here.”

Huh...

07

No matter why Asher chose to be with me at first, our relationship had gradually settled into something stable.

The first weekend after we returned from LA, we got caught in a sudden downpour after our date. Asher walked me upstairs and said, “Should I just stay over tonight?”

I knew exactly what he meant.

When I didn’t respond, he flicked my forehead. “Fine, I’m leaving.”

I exhaled and, grabbed the hem of his jacket. “Stay. Take a shower first, or you’ll catch a cold.”

Our eyes met, the air between us heating up. In the end, I was the one who fled, mumbling, “I’ll grab you a fresh towel.”

Letting Asher stay was unexpected, but it was also a crucial step in cutting myself off from Graham.

I sat in the living room, listening to the water running in the bathroom, my mind drifting away.

Suddenly, Asher’s phone lit up on the table.

I picked it up without thinking and unlocked it—only to see a message pop up.

"You left halfway through last weekend. I even paid for the hotel. Not very gentlemanly of you. Free this weekend? You owe me double."

The profile picture was of a woman.

I scrolled up, but the chat history had been wiped clean. The only thing left was a message from Asher—a set of numbers, most likely a hotel room number.

I checked the date.

The day I had gone on a business trip to LA.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

“What are you doing?”

The bathroom door opened. Asher stepped out, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

I didn’t have time to hide the phone, so I simply handed it to him. “You got a message. I wasn’t sure if it was important, so I was about to bring it over.”

“You could’ve just checked.”

I feigned innocence. “I don’t remember your password.”

Asher didn’t call me out on the lie. He casually glanced at the message and said, “Oh, just a client. When you were in LA, I was assigned to her for a project, but I left midway and handed her over to a colleague. She’s probably still pissed about it.”

The explanation was almost too weak, but I didn’t bothered to argue.

Asher leaned in with a smirk. “Are you angry?”

“I’m actually quite happy.”Asher propped his chin, watching me. “That means you’re finally acting like a real girlfriend.”

Then, right in front of me, he deleted the woman’s contact. “No client is worth upsetting my girlfriend. Block her.”

“Well done.” I patted his cheek. “I won’t lie. I wasn’t thrilled about it. So, you should probably just go home tonight.”

Due to Asher’s dramatic protests, he was ultimately demoted to the couch.

What I didn’t tell him was that, when I saw that message, I wasn’t even angry.

Instead, I felt relief.

It was a strange, complicated feeling, one I was too exhausted to unpack.

The next morning, Asher and I went downstairs together—only to run into someone I hadn’t expected.

Graham stood right outside the building.

I had no idea how long he had been waiting.

When he saw us come down together, for the first time, I saw something crack through his usual composed expression—shock, maybe even loss.

Asher glanced at me. “Do you want to talk to him?”

I was surprised at his generosity. Shaking my head, I said, “We’ve broken up. There’s nothing left to say.”

Asher nodded at Graham before leading me away.

I forced myself not to look back, but my mind kept replaying every memory I had with Graham.

“What are you thinking about?”

Asher’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“I was just wondering why you were so generous, offering to let me talk to Graham alone.”

“I was bluffing.”

Asher didn’t even try to hide it. “I regretted it the second I said it. If you had actually gone over, I would’ve dragged you right back.”

I smirked. “Seems like you don’t treat me as well as Silva. You let her go chase her ‘true love,’ but when it comes to me, you won’t even let me talk to my ex.”

“It’s different with you two,” Asher said matter-of-factly. “You’re my actual girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t?”

Asher pressed his lips together. “…No.”

08

Later, I found out from my college group chat that Graham had resigned from the hospital in LA and returned to work in San Diego.

And he hadn’t come back alone—Silva was with him.

I did the math. He quit on the same day he came to see me.

So Graham came all the way here… just to tell me he was back?

I didn’t feel happy about it—just found it ironic.

When we were together, I had always hoped he would return to San Diego, but he kept putting it off, saying he needed more experience in LA. Now that we’d broken up, he had come back after all—this time with Silva. It was impossible not to wonder if she had something to do with it.

I had lost. Completely.

September 23rd was my birthday, but I had never mentioned it to Asher.

That day, I received a text message.

Just four words: Happy Birthday.

No name, no note—but I knew who it was from.

Graham.

I didn’t reply, but I also didn’t delete it.

Meanwhile, my actual boyfriend, was nowhere to be seen all day.

That had never happened before.

By evening, I finally called Asher.

It took a long time for someone to pick up. When they did, the voice on the other end was slurred.

"Mary…"

"Asher?"

He didn’t seem to hear me. His voice was hazy, almost dreamlike.

"Mary, I miss you so much."

"Asher, are you drunk?"

I called his name again. This time, he snapped out of it.

"Rose… I’m sorry. I had a business dinner today. I forgot to tell you."

"It’s fine. I was about to go to bed."

After hanging up, I hesitated for only a moment before pulling on a jacket and driving straight to the location he had mentioned on the phone.

Something felt off.

I didn’t care if he was lying to me—but I had the right to know the truth.

Sitting in my car outside the bar, I waited like a predator lurking in the dark.

Half an hour later, Asher finally walked out.

At least he hadn’t lied about being here.

But then, just seconds later, someone else stepped out of the bar.

My whole body stiffened.

Lula?

My best friend?

What was she doing with Asher?

I drove home in a daze, my mind as heavy as if it had been filled with cement.

Today was my birthday. Lula had never spent my birthday with me before—I had long since gotten used to that.

She once told me that I looked and sounded a lot like one of her childhood friends. But that friend had died in a car accident.

On September 23rd.

My birthday. Her friend’s death anniversary.

Maybe it was fate, but for that reason, Lula had always kept a distance from me on this day.

But Asher…

Why hadn’t he shown up today?

Suddenly, a realization crashed into my mind like a lightning strike.

Mary.

When I called, Asher mistook me for "Mary."

What was Lula’s friend’s name again?

I struggled to remember something Lula had told me years ago.

It was… Mary, wasn’t it?

A horrifying thought began to take shape.

Months ago, Lula told me Graham had cheated on me with Silva. Then I happened to run into Silva’s ex, Asher, right outside my apartment complex. Soon after, Asher asked me out.

Then there was that moment in front of my office, when Lula had insisted on giving me sushi.

My heart pounded faster.

Why did I suddenly come down with acute gastroenteritis that night?

And why was Asher the first person to appear at the hospital?

Did the doctor really call him?

And when I was at the hospital, the person holding me, comforting me—who was it really?

A terrible realization sent chills down my spine.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I turned the car around and sped off toward another destination.

I needed answers. Now.

09

On the way, I dialed Graham’s number.

It had been four months, yet I realized that I had never truly forgotten him for even a moment.

"Rose, why are you suddenly—"

"Where are you?"

I cut Graham off.

"The hospital."

I didn’t waste any time. "I’m coming over now."

"I changed jobs. I’m in San Diego now—"

"I know."

Graham stopped mid-sentence. He seemed to chuckle softly before speaking again in a slow, steady tone. "No rush. I’ll be right here waiting for you."

When I rushed to the hospital, Graham was already standing at the entrance.

I grabbed his sleeve without hesitation. "Graham, tell me—do I look a lot like Silva?"

Graham’s brows furrowed tightly. "Why would you suddenly ask that? I never thought you looked like anyone else."

I shook my head. "Where’s Silva? Didn’t she come here with you? Is she at the hospital now, or can you give me her contact information? I need to ask her something."

To avoid any misunderstanding, I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and added, "Don’t worry, I’m not looking for trouble."

"There’s something I should say, even if it doesn’t matter anymore." Graham looked at me seriously. "Rose, Silva and I were never together. I didn’t come back to San Diego because of her. And when I was with you, I never once betrayed you."

With Graham’s help, I met Silva.

I never thought there’d come a day when I’d sit face-to-face with my so-called "rival in love."

"You don’t deserve Graham."

That was the first thing Silva said as soon as she sat down across from me, shutting down every question I had before I could even open my mouth.

"I know why you’re here today—you want to ask me something about Asher, right?"

My eyes widened as I listened to Silva continue. "I was with him. Three months. He was the one who pursued me. Later, we broke up—he was the one who ended it. It wasn’t until I saw you last time that I finally understood why."

I watched Silva lean forward slightly, lowering her voice.

"Because you look even more like her than I do."

My heart pounded wildly. Deep down, I had already suspected it.

But I still forced the words out between clenched teeth. "Who… who are you talking about?"

"Mary. His childhood friend." Silva leaned back against her chair, speaking in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "I only found out by accident—I happened to use his computer. That was one of the reasons he broke up with me. After all, once a secret is exposed, the act can’t go on, right?"

This explanation was completely different from what Asher had told me.

Asher said Silva was his childhood friend, someone he longed for but could never have. He knew she liked Graham, yet he was still willing to be her back-up.

Suddenly, my hand flew up to cover my mouth, and my eyes widened in shock.

Maybe… it’s not Silva Asher was talking, it’s Mary.

The one who had fallen for Graham.

The one Asher had secretly loved all along—was Mary.

So the truth was that Graham had "taken" Asher’s childhood friend and gotten together with Mary—until Mary passed away.

Now I knew how the story ended, but it involved two people.

In both relationships, I was nothing more than a substitute.

10

It was Graham who brought me back. In the car, I felt completely drained.

I couldn’t say who hurt me more.

“I’m sorry I never tell you about Mary.”

According to Graham, Mary had confessed her feeling to him, but he turned her down.

“I also feel guilty about Mary's passing. When I was with you, I didn’t think Mary would affect our relationship, so I never mentioned her to you.”

"I have just one question," I said, turning to Graham. "Did you agree to be with me partly because I look like Mary?"

"Graham, please, I need you to be honest with me."

Graham stayed silent for a long time, so long that I thought I wouldn’t get an answer. But finally, I heard him say “Yes.”

I closed my eyes, and tears slowly streamed down my face.

"But after being with you, I realized you two are nothing alike. You're vibrant, passionate, and direct. Rose, I never had feelings for Mary, but I truly fell in love with you."

"Love me enough to never read my letters? Too indifferent to explain anything? Always taking your time to reply to my texts?"

"I'm sorry."

I felt too drained to argue. "Forget it. It doesn't matter anymore."

When I got out of the car, Graham handed me a package.

“There’s something for you, take a look when you get home. Please, give me a favor.”

I hesitated for a moment but still accepted it.

However, I didn’t open it. I just placed it on the shelf at home.

All I wanted was a good night’s sleep, hoping that when I woke up, everything would somehow reset itself.

I took two days off work and slept straight through them. Eventually, loud banging on my door pulled me from my haze.

Barefoot, I shuffled over and pulled it open.

Asher’s eyes were bloodshot, and he had lost the composure he had when we first met.

“Rose, what do you mean by this?”

“What?”

“You broke up with me without any explanation, then disappeared. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

“Worried about what? Worried I’d die in a car accident and you couldn’t find a new replacement?”

I said it, and just stared as Asher stood there, stunned.

I almost wanted to laugh at the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Barefoot, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a cold soda, and casually popped it open. “Asher, I’m done playing along with whatever this is. I have my dignity. I don’t curse people. If you really feel bad, just send me some wine tomorrow—I’ll drink it off and ward off the bad energy.”

Asher stood frozen in the doorway, his hair hanging lifelessly over his eyes.

“I don’t agree.”

I blinked. “Excuse me, what did you just say?”

Did I hear him wrong? Or was he really shameless enough to stand there and tell me he didn’t agree?

Asher stepped inside, his gaze steady. “I admit, my intentions weren’t exactly pure at first. I even pulled some questionable moves. But aside from Silva, I’ve never lied to you about anything else. Rose, can you honestly say that while we were together, Graham never crossed your mind? You say I treated you like a substitute—but what about you? What do you really feel for me?”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Wow, Asher. I never realized just how good you are at twisting things around.”

“Rose, be fair. We’ve both used each other. But can we give each other another chance?”

Asher’s persistence was something I hadn’t expected.

“I’ve tried, but I can’t do it.”

I put down the soda and finally calmed myself.

“Asher, I don’t love you.”

“Then how do you know if you don’t try!” Asher’s voice was filled with urgency. “How would you know if you don’t try? If you can’t love someone else after falling for one person, then why, why did I fall for you...”

“Rose, Graham doesn’t love you. He’s with you because he wants to atone for something. Otherwise, why was I able to slip in so easily, why did you break up with him so easily, and why was he so calm when he saw us together?”

“That’s none of your business. Don’t come looking for me again.”

By the time he finished talking, I was too tired to even argue. I just pushed him out the door.

After Asher left, my world finally quieted down.

I looked up and saw the package Graham had given me, sitting on the table.

I remembered it was from him.

I opened it and a stack of letters fell out.

I picked them up and realized they were the letters I had torn apart when I broke up with Graham months ago.

Each piece was carefully put back together by Graham, taped, and then sealed in plastic.

At the end of all the letters was a new stack of A4 papers.

I checked the date—starting from the day I broke up with him, up until the last time we met.

Inside were the mundane details of his life, his longing for me, his frustration when he saw me with Asher, and his struggle when he decided to quit his job and go back to San Diego to win me back.

One letter every day—106 letters in total.

Until the last page, where only a few lines were written.

“Mary, I’m sorry for everything.”

“Rose, maybe I’m not a good boyfriend. The time we were together, your frustration was always greater than your happiness. But I never treated you as anyone else. I love you, and I know who that is clearly.”

The torn letters, I put them back together.

But my heart, the one that was torn, can it be stitched back together?