Her Delusion, Their Love

Some people are born believing the world owes them kindness.Others learn to survive by imagining a story where it does.She always believed she was chosen.
Not because she was special—but because she had to be.After all, misery needed a reason. Poverty needed compensation. Pain, surely, was only the opening chapter of something beautiful.
She learned early that smiles were useful. That kindness could be worn like a costume. That if you believed hard enough, reality would eventually bend.
Love stories had taught her that fate was dramatic. Loud. Obvious.That the male lead would appear eventually—cold, powerful, impossibly rich—and recognize her worth without her needing to earn it.
She mistook proximity for destiny.
Glances for longing.
Tolerance for affection.
What she didn’t understand was this:
Not every story has a female lead.
And not every love is meant for the one who wants it most. While she's busy chasing her delusion, two hearts were writing something real.

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