1. Three Years Later

Shirley：

Three years after the breakup, Connor Rogers had become nothing more than a shadow-faded, distant - in my memory.

Until that afternoon, when he quite literally barged back into my world.

Just before quitting time that afternoon, Josh called.

"Shirley, we've got a snag with the exhibition setup. Think you could pop over and take a look?"

I grabbed my bag and car keys, heading straight for the door.

"You sure have great timing. Will there be overtime pay?"

He chuckled. "Double it!"

It's just Josh and me at the company, and he was out of town on business. If not me, who else?

Two years ago, when job rejections piled up and I was practically staring down homelessness, Josh took me in.

Back then, the company was barely scraping by, and paychecks often arrived late. But somehow, I felt safe there, like I'd found a home.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and by the time I reached the exhibition hall, it was a full-blown downpour.

I dashed into the deluge, the icy raindrops immediately engulfing me.

Before I'd run more than a few steps, a sleek black sedan sped past, its tires barely missing me. I tried to dodge, but too late; I tumbled awkwardly into a puddle.

I heard a car door open as it screeched to a halt.

But with the workers' angry shouts echoing in my mind, I gritted my teeth, ignoring the searing pain, and hobbled into the exhibition hall.

"Hey, we're not doing this without more money!"

"The designs, the quotes—you had plenty of time for all of it. Absolutely no extra pay!"

"Fuck! Then we quit."

"Fine. I'll find someone else, but you'll be paying breach of contract fees."

"Alright, alright… you win, you bitch!"

After the shouting match with the foreman, my back felt like it was splitting in two.

I dragged myself outside, about to text Josh, when I wasn't looking and collided with a solid chest.

A hand reached out to steady me, the warmth of his palm seeping into my cold, rain-soaked back. I instinctively shivered.

"Sorry…"

I looked up, and froze.

Connor Rogers?!

His navy-blue suit sculpted broader shoulders and a more substantial chest, making him seem even more mature and imposing than three years ago.

The familiar scent of sandalwood cologne enveloped me, so familiar it made my heart pound.

His sculpted face, with its high, straight nose, was so perfect it made my eyes ache.

I quickly pulled away, my heart hammering painfully against my ribs.

"My car hit you just now. Are you hurt?" His voice was low, cutting through me like a sharp blade.

I sniffed. "I'm fine. I'm not going to drop dead any time soon."

I turned to walk away, but after only two steps, my arm was seized, and I was yanked back towards him.

"Ow!" A sharp gasp escaped me as an intense pain shot through my lower back.

His eyes darkened, his voice turning cold. "Are you avoiding me, Shirley? I just want to make sure you're not hurt."

Make sure?

He didn't check when I was being bullied. He didn't check when I was practically dying on the street.

What was the point of this pretense now?

His cruel words from three years ago echoed in my mind, each syllable tearing at my heart like a bloody claw.

"Being with you was merely a diversion. I'm bored now. Let's end this."

"Take this card. It should cover your last three years."

The agonizing pain surged over me like a cold tide, leaving me shivering.

I wrenched my arm free. "I told you I wasn't hurt, but you wouldn't believe me until you saw me in pain? Well, now you've seen it. What's next? Now you can pay up."

Since he loved to solve everything with money, I wouldn't mind if he paid just one more time.

He watched me silently, his gaze softening, his voice gaining a touch of warmth.

"I'll go to the hospital with you for a check-up."

"No, I'm going home." I turned to leave.

Suddenly, Connor grabbed my wrist.

"Let go!" I tried to shake him off.

"You're walking like a wounded penguin," he frowned, his tone as cold as ice. "Let me see."

"Penguin? You're the damn penguin!" I was so furious I wanted to push him away.

Before I could react, he had already lifted the edge of my shirt.

"Connor, you bastard! This is sexual harassment!"

"Sexual harassment? Women wanting to get into my bed are lined up all the way to London." His voice was just as unyielding.

My whole body tensed, my breathing quick and erratic. Every inch of my skin recoiled from his touch.

His warm fingertips slowly traced the bruise on my waist, the pain mingling with a faint electric current that spread through my entire body, leaving me so numb I could barely stand.

I shivered subtly, my heart hammering against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest.

"There's a bruise here, quite swollen," he murmured, letting go of my shirt and frowning slightly.

I couldn't tell if it was fear, pain, or just the cold, but my whole body was trembling violently.

With a sudden jerk, I swung my arm, slapping him hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed in the air, and for a split second, the air seemed to solidify.

He slowly turned his head, his grey-blue eyes swirling with a smile I couldn't decipher—a touch of self-mockery, perhaps, mixed with resignation.

I quickly adjusted my clothes and stated coldly, "You don't need to care about me. Just pay up. Aren't you good at solving everything with money?"

The curve of his lips deepened slightly.

He pulled out his phone. "Give me your account number."

Almost instantly, my phone vibrated. Before I could even check it, Josh's call came through.

"Shirley, how did things go?"

"It's handled," I managed. For some reason, hearing his voice made my throat constrict.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" Josh's concern was evident in his voice.

My nose stung, and tears welled up uncontrollably.

"Nothing," I mumbled, my voice thick. "Just got hit by some asshole. My leg hurts."

Josh chuckled. "Don't cry, little princess. Let me see what good food I can find here. I'll bring you something. Early flight back tomorrow."

His gentle laughter was truly infectious, easily easing my mood.

I hung up, sniffing once more.

"Boyfriend? Or husband?" Connor's voice came from behind me.

"None of your business," I retorted stiffly.

He grabbed my hand, turning it over. "No ring. So you're not married."

"Let go, you pervert!"

His Adam's apple bobbed. His voice dropped low.

"Shirley, about what happened three years ago… I apologize."

"Too late. Apology not accepted. The money's in, so we're even.."

Without a backward glance, I walked straight towards the exit.