When Mrs. Elaine Sterling handed me a check for a million dollars to leave Maxwell Sterling, I didn’t hesitate. I had spent five years with him, giving up the best years of my life without any title, any recognition. That million felt like little compensation. Word of this reached Max quickly. Later, I heard he even skipped an important meeting to rush over to see me. Content When Max arrived at The Beacon Apartments he’d bought for me, I was packing my things. “What’s this supposed to mean?” he demanded, his face as dark as a storm cloud. Knowing him as well as I did after so many years, I could tell he was furious. “Mr. Sterling, your mother’s paying me a million to leave you. What’s so hard to understand?” I replied, giving him my best smile, trying not to appear too beaten down. The words only made him angrier. He spoke through clenched teeth, “Go if you want, but don’t regret it later.” Then he slammed the door on his way out. Over the years, Max had treated me well—at least in material ways. He had kept me like a canary in a gilded cage, surrounded by designer bags and luxury watches, never denying me anything I wanted. And had I stayed, I knew that million wouldn’t be the last he’d ever give me. But I’d grown tired. I wouldn’t have given in to this if I hadn’t heard that Genevieve Harrison was back from her studies abroad. Max’s fiancée—his mother’s ideal match for him. The woman I would never be. It took less than thirty minutes to finish packing. I had nowhere to go, so I turned to my best friend, Maya Lane. Unfortunately, her boyfriend was there, and I found myself the third wheel. Maya apologized with a sympathetic look—after all, I hadn’t called in advance—so I booked a room at The St. Laurent Hotel. It was the same hotel Max and I used to stay at when he’d had a bit too much to drink and needed a place to crash nearby. He never let himself lose control around others, but when he did, his secretary, Mr. Charles Blake, would always call me. When I checked in, the front desk clerk recognized me. She smiled, “Mr. Sterling isn’t with you tonight?” I shook my head, keeping my tone casual. “Mr. Sterling and I are no longer involved.” She looked taken aback. My relationship with Max wasn’t a secret among the social elite—everyone knew Max was a sought-after bachelor, and I was just the woman he kept on the side. With my check-in complete, I drew a hot bath, filling it with rose petals, enjoying their soft fragrance. Max was allergic to pollen, so I’d never taken a rose-petal bath around him. Yet, as I lay there in the steaming water, I felt like something was missing. I stayed at the hotel for three days until Maya came looking for me. She knew about my breakup with Max and wanted to take me on a trip to clear my head. But the day before we were supposed to leave, she got called into work for an emergency. Our girls’ trip quickly became a solo trip. So, I headed alone to Savannah, Georgia.
The moment I boarded the plane, Max called me. The phone rang for a while, and just as a flight attendant was reminding me to turn off my phone, a text came through: “I’ll say this once—if you’re done with your tantrum, come back.” I stared at the short message, and memories from four years ago surfaced. It was the first time I’d thrown a tantrum at him, shortly after I’d learned about Genevieve. I’d downed a lot of wine and stumbled back to him in a half-drunken haze, confronting him in his study, draped in a nightgown, asking if his work or I was more important. He’d been furious, taking off his glasses to glare at me. “Cassidy,” he’d said icily, “I’m working. Get out.” Ignoring him, I’d refused to leave until he’d thrown me, coat and all, out of his place. Standing in the deserted estate neighborhood, shivering in the cold, I’d felt a pang of regret but stayed stubbornly silent. Before long, Max showed up, his expression unreadable as he looked down at me, asking, “Had enough?” I’d stubbornly bitten my frozen lips, just as a sneeze escaped, making him smirk, his eyes softening slightly. He’d crouched down to offer a hand, but I’d refused it, still too proud to accept his help. His voice had turned harsh, “I’ll say it once—if you’re done, come back.” True to his word, he’d walked off without looking back. I’d shouted after him, “Give me my bag!” “Cassidy, I bought that bag for you. If you don’t plan to come back, you won’t be taking it.” That moment was a wake-up call. The designer bags, the LV, the Hermès—everything was from him. And from that moment on, I knew what I was to him. I’d spent five quiet years by his side after that. But now, sitting on the plane, I deleted his message without another glance. After two hours in the air, I landed at Savannah’s airport. And in a stroke of bad luck, my bag went missing almost as soon as I’d arrived. At the Savannah City Police Station, the local cops were practically eyeing my designer outfit, silently asking who else would someone want to rob? Unable to speak the successfully, penniless, without any identification, I had no way to prove who I was. An officer handed me a phone and told me to call someone who could help. My parents had died in an accident when I was young, and my grandmother had raised me until she passed away before she could enjoy her retirement. Max had come into my life soon after she’d gone—a burst of light in my shadowed world. Out of options, I called Max, dialing again and again, the unanswered ringing only reminding me that his light was no longer a part of my life. By late afternoon, a kind young man approached and offered to help. His name was Derek Chandler, a fellow American who happened to be at the station. Seeing me alone and distressed, he helped me communicate with the police. Once I left the station, I changed my phone number and cut all ties with Max. But sometimes, I’d still come across news of him. Photos of Max and Genevieve shopping, him smiling down at her, looking the way I’d once dreamed he’d look at me. Their elegant appearances at ribbon-cutting events, announcements of their upcoming “wedding of the century.” I remained in Savannah, where Derek and I became good friends. With his help, I found work at Global Exports Inc., a company involved in a partnership that allowed me to rebuild my career. After being Max’s “canary” for five years, I’d lost all sense of independence, but slowly, with Derek’s support, I found my way again. We kept each other company, two lonely souls leaning on one another. Yet no one had warned us that bringing together two people’s solitude didn’t make things warmer. Standing on a balcony one evening, looking over the Savannah skyline, I asked him, “Why do you stay here?” He looked back, sadness in his eyes. It was the night of the 4th of July Fireworks Festival, and the flickering lights cast shadows across his face as he told me about his past. He’d come to Savannah to keep a promise to his late fiancée, who’d always wanted to see this festival. “They say, if you make a wish to the fireworks, it’ll come true,” he told me. I knew he was thinking of her as he said it. She hadn’t made it; she’d died in his arms. Closing my eyes, I closed my hands and made a silent wish to forget Max. Time passed, and work kept me busy. But sometimes, I still had to deal with harassment from a lecherous boss who would use work as an excuse to touch me or make suggestive jokes. Derek put a stop to it, coming to the office one day and pretending to be my boyfriend. From then on, the boss left me alone, and I was free of other unwanted attention. After nearly two years in Savannah, I received an assignment to return to New York for a project. Packing up, I flew back with some of my international colleagues. As soon as we landed, a driver from the company met us at JFK, guiding us to The St. Laurent Hotel. Standing in the doorway, I felt memories flood over me, stirring emotions I’d long buried. But when I saw that the receptionist had changed, I felt my shoulders relax, tightening my grip on my suitcase as I heard, “Hello, Mr. Sterling. Hello, Ms. Harrison…”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295029”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn #校园School #惊悚Thriller #擦边Steamy
Leave a Reply