In college, I messed things up with one of the wealthiest girls on campus. Three years later, after a burst pipe in my apartment, I headed to crash at my buddy’s place and accidentally climbed into the wrong bed—hers. She gave me this cool, mocking smile. “Oh? Thinking of rekindling old flames?” Panicked, I tried to leave, but she pulled me back. “What’s the rush? You’re here already.” In my dream, I held someone warm, soft, and close, her smooth skin beneath my fingertips. The moment was thrilling, almost real—until a sharp pain shot through my ear. I snapped awake, finding myself face-to-face with those unforgettable eyes and a pair of soft lips moving as if in slow motion. “Ethan Blake,” she drawled, “after all this time, you really choose this way to meet up? What, feeling nostalgic?” I was so spooked I grabbed my ear back and jumped out of bed, face flushing. Veronica Grant, my ex. How did I end up in bed with her? Her hair spilled across the pillow, and she was only wearing a thin silk tank top. She looked… stunning. I could barely get the words out. “Wha—what are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” All I wanted to do was bolt, but just as I tried, she gripped my arm. “What’s the rush? Here already, might as well stay.” How did I not know I’d climbed into my ex’s bed? My apartment’s pipes had burst late at night, and I went to crash at Nate’s place, trying not to wake anyone. But apparently, I ended up in the wrong room. The commotion woke up the house’s actual owner. Nate showed up in his pajamas, voice booming down the hall. “Ronnie, it’s the middle of the night! What’s going on?” When he saw me, his eyes went wide. “Dude, what are you doing here?” I chuckled nervously. “Pipes burst at my place. Needed a last-minute spot to crash.” Nate pulled me aside, shooting me a knowing look. “She’s my cousin, man. You two… in the same bed?” I wanted the earth to swallow me. Of all the people I wanted to avoid, Veronica was number one. This girl I’d once cared about more than anyone else… we’d just never had the right timing.
In college, Veronica was the school’s untouchable “ice queen.” I saw her at a club meeting one day and was smitten instantly. I heard she came from money and had pretty high standards. One day, she sprained her ankle in the locker room, limping out with her face scrunched in pain. I happened to be passing by, so I picked her up without thinking and carried her to the health center. After that, we became friends. Despite her icy reputation, she was surprisingly down-to-earth and forgetful, often texting me to help her pick up things she’d forgotten. She used to joke, saying I had to have a girlfriend to be so thoughtful. I’d laugh it off. “Nope, you’re the first.” She’d look at me with that spark in her eye and grab my hand. As we got closer, I learned that, aside from her looks, her “queen” status was tied to the world she came from—a circle of the ultra-wealthy that had little in common with mine. But she said she hated the fake world of high society and appreciated that I was just… real. It thrilled me. I introduced her to things I loved, like the best burger joint in town. When I earned a little money from helping professors with projects, I’d treat her to cheap-but-good eats. She’d sometimes offer to pay, but I’d wave it off. “Paying’s my job,” I’d say. “Leave it to me.” I might not be able to give her a life of luxury, but I wanted to give her my best. One night, as we stood in a quiet corner on campus, I couldn’t hold back anymore and kissed her. She kissed me back passionately. We were all wrapped up in each other for a while. It was just a regular relationship—one that didn’t survive the storms that followed.
One day, this guy named Brad Vaughn came up to me, looking all smug. “I’m her fiancé. You need to back off.” I stared at him, shocked. “She never mentioned she was engaged.” “Our families have an understanding. You’re not gonna be her boyfriend—ever.” “What can you give her, really? Just more baggage?” I didn’t buy it and argued back, but he just raised a brow. “Let me show you what her life’s like.” He dressed me up, convincing me to disguise myself, and took me to a mansion. Inside, she wore a gorgeous evening gown, hair up, mingling at a high-end gathering, all charm and poise. She moved through the room like a queen, flawless. And me? I looked down at my jeans and sneakers, feeling out of place. “See?” he said. “She’s up there. You’re down here, just a guy who took her out for cheap eats. She needs someone who can match her.” I bit back the urge to argue, though I insisted, “But she likes me.” Brad just laughed. “There are a bunch like you. Check her phone if you don’t believe me.” “She’s got people in her contacts divided by groups. Us, her circle, are in one group. You and others like you? You’re in another.” The next day, while she stepped away, I checked her phone. Sure enough, I was just a coded name in her contacts, lumped in with seven or eight others. When she came back, I asked, “You ever get bored with me?” She just gave a little smile. “No. I love being with you. You’re a break from the whole ‘perfect’ routine.” “And anyone else you feel that way with?” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “There are a few.” My heart sank. “Do you see me in your future?” “Of course! I want you by my side in the company. It’s like that new word everyone’s using—‘kept man.’ What do you think?” She gave me a playful grin, but I felt gutted. This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a partner, an equal. Finally, one evening after a sad movie, I had a moment of clarity. “Let’s break up.” She stared at me, shocked, then stubbornly agreed. “Fine. But don’t regret it.” When she texted me again, I blocked her. Just like that, three years passed, and I heard she moved abroad.
Nate’s jaw dropped. “Dude, you and my cousin… that’s why she was so down a while back. She locked herself in her room, barely talking to anyone.” I never imagined she’d be upset over me. I figured I was just another guy among those coded names on her phone. “Getting dumped sucks for everyone. It’s no big deal,” I shrugged. The next day, I was back to work, needing to find a plumber and get my apartment fixed. But I had to rush out for an important project meeting first. When my team arrived, who was there to meet us but Veronica herself. My heart froze, but there was no way out. “This project’s under a tight schedule,” she said, coolly professional. “We’ll need frequent meetings, and I’ll have to confirm some requirements with you directly.” I nodded. “Got it. We’re committed.” She turned to me. “Ethan, would you come to my office to discuss a few details?” I followed her in. Her office was elegant, with a clean, minimal style that didn’t quite match the carefree girl I used to know. Her business suit fit her perfectly, a picture of authority. She ran through the project, and I responded as best I could. Then, suddenly, she shifted the topic. “This project will mean late nights. Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I shook my head. For some reason, I couldn’t stop myself. “You’ll be working with us, too. Won’t your boyfriend mind?” She gave me a lazy smile. “Oh, he’s got a bit of a temper—pretty possessive.” I couldn’t help but think she meant Brad. A bitter feeling rose up in me. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay so late, then,” I muttered. “I can catch you up in the morning.” She studied me for a moment, then got up and sat right next to me.
I awkwardly scooted to the side, but she tugged my sleeve. “Why’d you block me? Can’t we at least stay friends?” I couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling a familiar ache. She leaned closer, her breath warm against my face. “Ethan, I—” Before she could finish, there was a knock. And in walked Brad. “Ronnie, sorry to interrupt. Didn’t know you had company.” He stopped, spotting me. “Well, if it isn’t Ethan Blake,” he sneered. “I hear you’re a project manager now. Impressive.” Seeing him made my stomach twist. He went over and put his arm around Veronica, pulling her close. “Dinner tonight, right? Got us a table.” He looked back at me. “Care to join?” I shot to my feet. “Sorry, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend.” Veronica’s eyes widened as I bolted out of there, Brad’s smug look following me. The frost I’d buried away all these years cracked wide open. That “girlfriend” I mentioned? Lindsey Hayes. Another college friend. She’d chased me back in school, but I’d brushed her off. Recently, her family’s company hired ours for a project, so I’d been on her turf for a few months. As the client, Lindsey kept setting up “team dinners,” always trying to get me tipsy and eyeing me like some prize. At that moment, she was my only escape.
I never expected that this project would put me face-to-face with Grant Industries—the company now headed by Veronica herself. I did everything I could to avoid her. If she didn’t specifically ask for me, I’d steer clear, and if she did, I’d bring a colleague along to minimize our one-on-one time. But I couldn’t ignore seeing Brad in her office. He showed up so often, just hanging around while we discussed work. Sometimes he’d even chime in on our meetings. Rumor around the office was that they were practically a couple. One night, I stayed late, trying to debug a line of code that refused to cooperate. I was so absorbed in my work that I didn’t hear her walk up until she handed me a cup of coffee. Startled, I jumped, accidentally spilling it all over her. Panicking, I grabbed a napkin and tried to clean up, my hands brushing over the thin fabric of her blouse. Realizing what I was doing, I jerked back and stood there like a kid caught doing something wrong. Veronica sighed. “Could you run downstairs and get me a change of clothes?” I hurried down to the 24-hour store on the corner, grabbing a blouse and pants. I hesitated, then threw in a set of undergarments, remembering the spill had soaked right through. When I handed her the bag, she looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Remember my size? You haven’t noticed I might’ve changed a bit over the years?” I looked away, embarrassed. “Well, you’re still in good shape, but just to be safe, I went a size up.” After changing, she came back looking different—almost like the girl I used to know, the one who’d join me for late-night fries and laughs. Just as she was about to speak, my phone rang. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I replied, holding up my phone to show her. “Sorry, family emergency. Gotta run.” Without waiting for her response, I grabbed my bag and hurried out.
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