Chapter 2

My mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"I never treated you like a boyfriend," Olivia said, frowning. "And I won't have a boyfriend much longer."

My heart lurched with her words, spinning in place. My thoughts clung to the second half of her sentence. A part of me, long buried, began to hope again.

She reached into her bag and handed me an invitation.

"I'm getting married."

The incident at the hotel was left unresolved. But as the project at the institute moved forward, I inevitably ran into Olivia more and more.

I began to suspect she was following me on purpose.

After clocking out of my shift at the coffee shop, I put on the mascot suit under the blazing sun and handed out flyers. Then I grabbed a hoe and headed to the rooftop fields. Her gaze followed me quietly, always vanishing just as silently.

I was now a graduate student in agronomy.

It was a far cry from the life I once envisioned. But it was a government-prioritized field, offering good benefits and decent pay.

I used to complain about doing the dishes. Now, my hands were calloused. I wielded a sickle with speed and precision.

The current project with Olivia and her team had strong prospects. Given my performance and family circumstances, Dr. Jenkins was considering pushing me for a bonus share.

After finishing my work, I stood staring blankly at the test field. My head throbbed dully.

Earlier, some local kids had bashed the mascot's head while I was handing out flyers. I still felt dizzy from it.

My mind drifted back to college.

I used to be arrogant. I even got into a fight with Olivia back then over her part-time job.

I didn't understand the pressure she was under—juggling tuition, scraping by, and caring for a dying grandmother.

I'd sabotaged every one of her jobs, waiting smugly for her to come crawling back to me.

Now the tables had turned. I was the one desperate for money.

If someone offered me an extra hundred dollars to dance ballet in that mascot suit, I'd do it without blinking.

Money was hard to come by. What was pride worth anyway?

At the next project meeting, I saw Lucas Reed.

He wore a tailored suit and stood beside Olivia. He stared at me without blinking.

A few years abroad had polished his appearance. He looked decent now, respectable even, dressed in that suit, talking smoothly with the institute leadership. Who would've guessed he was once a poor boy, kneeling beside me on campus, offering up his childhood sweetheart just to become my lackey?

I set a cup of warm water politely on the table in front of him. He reached out his hand.

I had no choice but to pick it up again and place it directly in his palm.

Halfway through, he let go. The tea spilled all over me.

Dr. Jenkins saw the whole thing, but still told me to apologize to Lucas.

I frowned.

Lucas waved it off. "We were tight back in college. No need to make a thing out of it."

He said that, but didn't take the handkerchief someone offered. Only after I apologized did he smile and wipe his hands.

Honestly, that hurt more than a slap.

"Olivia wants you over for dinner tonight," Lucas said.

Dr. Jenkins was eager for me to accept.

He knew my family situation, but didn't know the mess I had with those two. He was only thinking of helping me.

I could only nod stiffly.

On the ride home with Lucas, he talked about how he and Olivia had fallen in love.

I'd already tortured myself with these stories many times before—read them in interviews, listened to podcasts. The business magazines went into excruciating detail about their romance.

The car rolled to a stop, but he didn't open the door.

"Ethan," he said, "sometimes you just have to let go of the past. We're happy now. I'm grateful for the help you gave us back then. So I'm asking you to stay away from my fiancée."

My grip on the door handle loosened. I remembered saying those same words to someone else, just as smugly.

"Sure," I said. "I wish you both happiness."

Walking into that penthouse felt like stepping into a grave.

The moment I crossed the threshold, I was pulled back into the past.

Lucas was still talking about how Olivia had designed the entire place herself, from sketches to layout.

But I remembered it differently. Every detail was from the fantasy I once forced her to describe—our future wedding home.

My heart pounded in the corner of my chest. Even the dishes on the table were cooked to my preferences.

I tried to convince myself I was overthinking things. But my mind refused to stop.

She still had me in her heart, didn't she?

Three people sat around the dining table, all lost in their own thoughts.

When I went to the bathroom, she cornered me at the door.

"Your father's old and locked up in prison," Olivia said softly. "He needs someone to take care of things, doesn't he? So why did you refuse my offer to be your sugar mommy?"