AaArRgH!
I jolted awake, gasping for air. Sweat clung to my skin, making my pajamas stick to my body, but my hands and feet were ice cold. I looked around wildly, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Damn it!" I cursed, trying to shake off the nightmare.
However, it wasn't just a dream. It had happened — back when Cole and I were still in high school. That day, in front of everyone, he crushed me.
The memory came rushing back, hitting me like a tidal wave. The humiliation, the embarrassment — it was worse than anything I had ever felt. I had been so devastated that I skipped school for days, too ashamed to face anyone.
I wanted to transfer schools, disappear, but Sophia had been against it. If anything, she seemed to relish my suffering, forcing me to endure the rest of those four agonizing years.
The whole school knew what had happened. I became a joke, a meme that circulated long after graduation.
I was such an idiot back then. I should've walked away, stopped loving him. But no — I kept chasing after him, enduring rejection after rejection, humiliation after humiliation.
How could I have been such a fool?!
With a shaky hand, I yanked open my drawer, pulling out the stack of love letters and gifts I had saved for Cole over the years. Each one represented a piece of my heart I had foolishly handed to him, hoping that one day he would see me, truly see me.
I had dreamt of the day I'd give them all to him — on our wedding day, no less. How naive. How delusional.
I looked at those letters, those carefully wrapped gifts, and felt a surge of anger rise in my chest.
How could I have been so blind? So stupid?!
Without thinking, I grabbed them all and threw them into the fireplace. The flames licked at the edges of the paper, the ribbons, turning everything to ash. The love, the hope, the pain — it all burned away.
With each flicker of the fire, I felt something inside me harden. The years of rejection and humiliation had ironed my heart, wrapping it in chains.
I promised this day . . . I would never love again.
=== 🤍 ===
"So, you agreed?" I asked, staring at Michael from across the table.
We sat in a small corner of a dimly lit restaurant, the low hum of conversation around us barely registering over the tension hanging between us.
I watched him intently, waiting for his answer, my heart drumming steadily in my chest.
Michael took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of his decision. His eyes, tired and shadowed, flickered up to meet mine before he sighed. "I didn't have much of a choice if I wanted this project to survive. We're close . . . so close I can almost taste the breakthrough. One final push and we'll be there. I can feel it."
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips, the excitement buzzing through my veins.
"Good," I said, leaning back in my chair, my fingers drumming lightly on the table. The deal was sealed.
"But . . . since you own 50% of the company now," he started, hesitating before continuing, "that makes you the CEO, right?"
I raised my hand in mock surrender. "Hold up. CEO? Who said anything about me being the CEO? Did you see those words in any of the contract? No, I'm an investor — nothing more, nothing less."
Michael frowned, his brows knitting together as he stared at me in disbelief. "Then who's supposed to manage the company? What are you planning to do?"
I couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face. "You, of course."
"Me?" Michael practically choked on his words, pointing a finger at his own chest, his eyes widening in exaggerated surprise. "You want me to run the company?"
I nodded, my grin widening. "Yes, you. Remember? I'm just a kid. And it's your project. Besides, you're the leader before I even came into the picture."
Michael groaned, running a hand through his long, disheveled hair. "And now you're pulling the 'I'm just a kid' card on me, at a time like this?"
I giggled, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the table as I grinned at him. "Honestly, I don't know the first thing about running a company. If I tried to manage it, we'd be bankrupt within a month. Besides . . ." I trailed off, waiting for him to bite.
"Besides what?" He leaned in slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"I'm too lazy to run it. That's why I need you. You've got the brains, the drive — and let's face it, you'd do a much better job than I ever could."
Michael shook his head, but despite his exasperation, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His dimples appeared, giving him a boyish charm, even with the dark circles under his eyes and the dirt-smudged lab coat that hung loosely on his frame.
Despite his unkempt appearance, there was no denying that Michael had a certain allure about him. If only he'd clean up a bit.
"What are you staring at?" he asked, adjusting his glasses, his gaze flicking to me with a hint of self-consciousness.
"When we launch," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "make sure you look presentable, alright? You're pretty, and your looks could help pull in some investors."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "You're planning to use me as bait, aren't you?"
I shrugged, flashing him an innocent smile. "If it's within legal boundaries, sure. You've got to use every tool at your disposal if you want to succeed in this world. And if that means flirting with a few potential investors here and there . . . well, you do what you've got to do."
I winked at him, but Michael only shook his head, a bemused smile playing on his lips.
He probably thought I was joking.
But I wasn't.
I was dead serious.