"Mrs. Agnes," I called, switching my gaze between the two flowers in front of me.
Mrs. Agnes poked her head in. I forced a smile. "Jasmine or sunflower? Which one should I go for?"
Her face fell. "I thought that was decided when you spent months watering the jasmine."
I bit my lip, hesitating. "Sunflowers are his favorite."
"But jasmine is your favorite."
I nod faintly. I doubt he even knows that—or how staring at jasmine calms me.
"Lavina, you shouldn't—"
"Agnes." I cut her off, my hand hovering over the petals. My fingers trembled, just slightly. "If anyone wants to buy the jasmine, sell them. Wrap up the sunflower for me."
Agnes sighed. She wanted to say more, but I refused to look at her.
I stepped out, sunflower in hand, and headed home. I changed into the dress I'd been saving for tonight. An hour later, I was in a cab, the sunflower wrapped carefully in my lap.
When I arrived, I froze. The front door stood partly open, Mark's and Lucas's laughter spilling out. My heart clenched. He had his friends over—but today is our anniversary.
My hand lingered on the knob. Even after eight years, they still scrunched their noses at me. To them, I was nothing more than a gold digger, draining his wallet.
The vanilla-scented perfume clings too tightly to my skin. I smoothed the dress — the kind Jake never liked me wearing out.
He said it drew the wrong kind of attention. He only wanted to protect me.
Would he notice today? Lately, it felt like games and football mattered more. Still, I couldn't stop hoping — tonight, maybe, just maybe, he'd see me the way he did years ago.
My phone dinged—a message from my only friend, Klint Morgan.
My race is by 6 p.m. Miss it and I'll kill you.
I smiled and slipped the phone back into my pocket. He really would, too.
I raised my hand to knock—then froze. My name floated through the door, followed by laughter.
"I can't believe Lavina has managed to keep you out of her pants for eight whole years," Lucas hissed. "She's so dumb for not realizing you're only using her for business ideas."
Mark laughed. "A free assistant, rewarded with kisses and hugs."
I may not come from money, but I love Jake with everything in me. Acting had been my dream, but I shelved it, learning business terms, studying contracts, closing deals… all for him.
I clenched my trembling hands. Say something, Jake.
They kept laughing, tossing insults like blades. I didn't blame him. It must be exhausting, having to watch the same scene repeat over and over again.
Still, I straightened my shoulders. He would marry me someday—whether his two spoiled friends approved or not.
I reached to push the door when Jake's voice cut through.
"She's not even that appealing," he sneered. "The smell of the slums clings to her. It turns me off every single time."
My stomach twisted. My fingers trembled, still on the doorframe.
"Once my dad hands me the company, I'm dumping her," he spat, venom dripping from every word.
"It's embarrassing having to deal with her. She doesn't even know the difference between real brands and knock-offs."
Cold sweat broke across my forehead, my fingers going numb. The flowers slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor.
Eight years. Eight years of shaping myself into someone worthy of Jake Sinclair.
What a joke. All this time… he had been disgusted by me.
"Lavina." Jake's voice snapped me out of my frozen panic. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Long enough to see that you were only acting, Jake." My gaze flicked to his friends. My chest tightened. "They never pretended to like me. But you… I truly thought you loved me."
It all clicked. Every exclusion, every embarrassment… he had never seen me as an equal. Grooming myself into a "worthy match" for the Sinclair heir… what a joke.
"Lavina… come on. You knew it was just a fling," he said, his tone sharp, almost casual. "You started talking about marriage, getting attached… and I— I let it happen, thinking you'd eventually see it for what it was."
I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. My heart thundered in my chest. "What… are you saying?"
"I never loved you," he said, cold and sharp. "You were hot back then, but so nonchalant around boys. No one could get you to date them… but when I gave you a little attention, you curled around me like some needy cat. Annoying as hell."
My knees wobbled. My hands clenched the air in front of me. The face I adored… spitting garbage. Everything we had… just a game.
"You said you loved me! I sacrificed everything for you! We were going to get married on an island, have children… how could you forget all that?"
He shrugged like it was nothing. "I never asked you to. I've never asked you to. Let's break up, Lavina."
My chest tightened. He never asked… but I did. I gave it all. And it meant nothing.
His two friends smirked alongside him.
They had known all along.
I was a fool.
But if he never loved me… then why did he stay? Laugh with me? Why never flirt with anyone else?
I bit my lip, blinking away the tears.
He was right. I was clingy. Too available. Too easy to keep. Jake taught me that—just not that it applied to us too.
I'd sacrificed too much to let go now.
He loves me. He just doesn't realize it yet.
I can play this game too.
I will make him love me.
"I don't care," I whispered. "I stopped loving you a long time ago."
His smirk faltered.
I inhaled—just enough courage to lie.
"I didn't want to be the girl who breaks things off simply because she fell out of love."
"No." His tone sharpened. "You're too obsessed with me to even have time for anything else."
He was right. I just wouldn't let him know that.
"I wish that were true," I said evenly. "Remember all those times I ditched you? I was spending them with my lover."
He laughed. "Like I'd ever believe that, Lavina. Your life begins with J and ends with E." He leaned closer, voice low and mocking. "Don't try to rile me up. Maybe kneel… crawl… beg with tears, and I might consider extending our relationship a few more months."
Mark and Lucas burst into laughter, disbelief dripping from their eyes.
Jake stepped back and picked up a file from the couch.
"This is the research you did. The deal you closed." His lips curled.
"My old man was impressed. Turns out you're actually good for something."
I stared down at the file—Grey Hospital.
I'd worked endlessly on it, using my one favor with Klint just to make Jake's life easier.
I forced a smile. Dating Jake taught me one thing: smile through everything in public… then fall apart where no one can see.
"My lover helped me," I said lightly.
"The moment I mentioned Grey Hospital, he made sure the deal was mine. Anything to make me happy."
Jake rose, irritation flashing in his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.
A memory struck—his head resting on my thighs while I played with his hair.
My stomach twisted.
"Are you serious, Lavina?"
Something inside me cracked—an urge to laugh, to confess it was all a lie meant to make him jealous. I swallowed it down.
I met his stare, praying my eyes weren't swollen with unshed tears.
"I am. We both know it takes more than competence to close that deal. And you've always reminded me—I'm just a girl from the slums. Who could I possibly know?"
Before I could stop myself, the words spilled out. "You know him. You talk about him all the time. Klint Morgan is my lover."
Jake froze.
Then he laughed.
Mark and Lucas followed, their laughter loud and cruel.
"You're lost in fantasy," Jake said, shaking his head.
"The sensational racer whose autograph could lift your entire generation out of poverty… is your lover?"
He scoffed.
"Stop being delusional."
It shouldn't hurt.
But it did.
For years, I'd sacrificed my nights, my freedom, my entire world to mold the Sinclair heir into his throne. He cut off every social tie I tried to build—and I let him, believing it was jealousy. Protection.
What a lie.
"If someone like you has ever even met Klint Morgan," he sneered, "then I might as well jump off a building and die."