Lily Thompson
I woke up the next morning, my mind still buzzing with the events of the previous night. The memory of Ryan's unexpected appearance in my life had left me feeling unsettled. As I lay in bed, I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. It was still early, the first rays of dawn just beginning to filter through the curtains. Isabella would be waking up soon, ready to start her day with all the boundless energy of youth.
With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. The familiar routine of preparing breakfast helped to ground me, providing a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of my emotions.
As I cracked eggs into a skillet and set the coffee pot to brew, I couldn't help but replay the events of last night in my mind. Seeing Ryan again after all these years had stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, dredging up memories I had long tried to forget. I couldn't ignore the pain and heartache that Ryan had caused me in the past.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed Isabella bounding into the kitchen, her eyes bright with excitement. "Good morning, Mommy!" she chirped, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.
"Good morning, sweetheart," I replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil raging inside me. "Did you sleep well?"
Isabella nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening. "I had the best dream ever! Uncle Riri took me to the park and we went on the swings together!"
My heart clenched at the mention of Ryan's name, a mixture of anger and apprehension swirling within me. But I pushed aside my own feelings for Isabella's sake, plastering on a smile as I ruffled her hair affectionately.
"That sounds like a wonderful dream, honey," I said, trying to keep my tone light. "But now it's time to get ready for school. Go wash up and I'll have breakfast ready for you in a few minutes."
Isabella nodded eagerly and dashed off to her room, leaving me alone in the kitchen once again. As I finished preparing breakfast, I renewed my vow in my heart to keep Isabella away from Ryan and his lies. I heard a knock on my front door just as I finished setting the table. I opened the door to see my landlord. He came to remind me about my rent for the second time this week.
I reassured him that I’ll pay by the end of this week. I closed the door behind me and sighed inwardly, already feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me. I wonder how I would cope with all these bills, I already had Isabella’s fees to worry about and now the rent. There was no way I could get all the bills paid at the end of the week with the menial jobs I was doing. I barely even had enough for feeding!
I turned my attention back to breakfast, trying to push aside the nagging worries and doubts that threatened to consume me. As Isabella emerged from her room, freshly washed and dressed for school, I forced myself to focus on the present moment, putting on a cheerful facade for her sake.
As she was eating I went to my room, showered and prepared myself for work. I came to the dining room and Isabella was already done with breakfast. I picked up her school bag and we walked out the door. I locked the door and took the key along with me.
I found a cab and dropped Isabella off at school, wishing her a good day. As Isabella disappeared into the school building, I hailed another cab and made my way to the small diner where I worked as a waitress. The diner was bustling with the usual morning crowd, the clatter of dishes and chatter of customers filling the air.
I slipped into my uniform and joined the flurry of activity, weaving through the tables with practiced ease as I took orders and delivered plates of steaming food. Despite the chaos of the diner, my mind kept drifting back to the looming pile of bills waiting for me at home
As my shift ends at the diner, I get ready to head over to my other job as a caretaker. Just as I am about to leave I am stopped by an old lady who is my colleague who I have become very close to
“I know you have been looking for a job and I saw this flier and I thought you should take a look at it” she said showing me the flyer
The flier had a job vacancy available, personal assistant to a renowned CEO. The applicant should apply in person and should be female and 25 years of age. No skills required. Wait, that’s exactly what I am. I thanked the lady and took the flier.
Instead of heading to my caretaker job, I headed to the location on the flier. I reached Denzol corporation, a large tall building, I walked in and met a male receptionist who led me directly to the CEO’s office
I didn’t know you could meet the CEO on a job interview. I entered his office and he smiled widely and welcomed me to sit. He introduced himself as Theodore Maxwell
“Miss Thompson, first of all, I require absolute dedication and commitment to me and to my firm and for that to happen I need you to sign this contract. You have to move into the company’s penthouse with one other assistant and you have to stay for a maximum period of a year” he said giving me the contract
‘Wow, I would be moving into a house, not just any house, a pent house’ I thought to myself. That already solves my situation with my rent. But there’s a problem
“Uhm. Mr. Maxwell, I have a six-year-old daughter, can she move in with me” I asked hoping that this won’t ruin my chances and he would agree
"Sure, of course she can” I heard him say and I almost jumped in my seat with excitement
I took the paper and signed the contract and gave it back to him. After he looked at the paper, he spoke up
“You’re hired Miss Thompson” he said extending his hands for a handshake and I eagerly took it “you’ll get an advanced payment of three thousand dollars out of your six thousand dollars salary” he continued and I froze in my seat
‘Six thousand dollars as salary, wow. That’s enough to pay up Isabella’s f*e with so much to spare’ I thought to myself.
“thank you very much sir” I finally spoke up
“You are required to move in today or the latest tomorrow morning. Your coworker, who you will be staying with will assist you in moving in”
He took up the telephone and called someone to tell my coworker to come in. A few minutes later, someone walked in
“You called for me, boss” a voice that sounded all too familiar spoke up and I turned around
Ryan. Oh hell no.
Lily ThompsonI’d made harder decisions in my life—signing away my pride in a contract, for one—but this one still knotted my stomach.College.It should have been simple. Choose a school, enroll, finish what I’d started before everything went to hell. But no matter how many shiny brochures I flipped through or how many “fresh start” articles I scrolled past online, one name kept coming back like a bruise I couldn’t stop poking.My old college.The place where everything began and ended. Where I laughed too loud in dorm hallways, scribbled notes I never got to use, kissed Ryan in stairwells when we were supposed to be studying. Where I first found out I was pregnant. Where he left me.Part of me wanted to torch it, never set foot near those halls again.But another part—the louder, angrier part—needed to.If I can walk through those halls and not break, I told myself, then I’ll know I’m stronger than the girl he left behind. I’ll know I’m not haunted anymore.So that’s where I was goi
Lily ThompsonI spent the first ten minutes after we got home pretending I wasn’t waiting for him to touch me.Which is hilarious, considering I’m the one who keeps swearing I hate him.I paced the kitchen like a trapped cat, opening cabinets I didn’t need, rearranging mugs that didn’t deserve it, pretending the thud in my chest was caffeine and not the echo of his voice saying I am her father. The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that amplifies every memory you’re trying to swallow.He didn’t crowd me. He didn’t chase me. He just moved around the island with infuriating calm—jacket off, sleeves pushed to his forearms, the tendon in his wrist flexing as he filled a glass with water like the world hadn’t cracked in half two hours ago.“Say something,” I snapped, because silence was worse than a fight.He took a sip, watching me over the rim. “What do you want me to say?”“That you overstepped. That you shouldn’t have—” My voice tripped on the word father and refused to get up
Lily ThompsonIf perfect couples were a product, PR would’ve boxed us, slapped a gold sticker on the front, and shipped us to every camera in Manhattan.Hand in hand. Smile tilt just so. His palm warm at the small of my back, mine resting light on his sleeve like I wasn’t counting the seconds until I could breathe again.The event was supposed to be soft press—children’s museum fundraiser, pastel balloons, tiny cupcakes with too much frosting. The kind of room where even scandal puts on a bowtie. We walked the step-and-repeat, did the wave-and-nod rhythm, answered three “How are you holding up?”s and two “You look radiant, Ms. Thompson”s that felt like compliments with teeth.Since the start of our fake dating, Denzol had clawed its way back into profit, and the press couldn’t get enough of us—the picture-perfect couple everyone suddenly admired. People weren’t just speculating about the campaigns anymore; they were wondering when the city’s most renowned bachelor would finally put a
TheodoreThere’s something about Lily Thompson that ruins a man quietly.It’s not just her face, though God knows she has the kind that sticks in your mind long after she’s gone. It’s not just her laugh either, sharp and unexpected, like she’s surprised herself every time it slips out.It’s the fire. The way she walks into a room like she’s already bracing for a fight. The way her chin tips up when the world tries to crush her down. She looks fragile at first glance—but stand too close, and you realize she’s made of iron.And I? I’ve been standing too close for far too long.I tell myself she doesn’t belong to me.I repeat it like prayer, like penance.She’s Ryan’s.She’s always been Ryan’s.But my chest doesn’t listen. My chest clenches every time I see her fake a smile for the cameras. Every time I see her hide trembling hands behind a coffee cup. Every time I catch her staring at Ryan with that wild mix of longing and fury she can’t disguise.It’s torture. Because I’d give anything
Lily Thompson I woke up furious.Furious at him. Furious at myself. Furious at the fact that my body still hummed like a live wire hours after he’d kissed me, touched me, almost had me only to pull back with that maddening calm.“I want to wait,” he’d said, like patience was some kind of gift. Like restraint was the key to undoing me.I should have been relieved. I should have rolled my eyes and laughed in his face. This should have given me time to rethink, get a grip of myself.But instead, I’d lain awake all night, heat pooling between my thighs, my brain on fire with one question: What does Ryan Edwards consider special?Because if this was just about sex, he’d have taken the deal. He’d have stripped me bare and had me against the wall until we were too dizzy to stand.But he hadn’t.And that terrified me more than if he had.The PR team decided today was a “soft image day.” Which basically translated to: let’s parade Lily around in another designer dress while Ryan pretends not
Lily Thompson The storm didn’t vanish overnight, but it shifted.The headlines about me started to fade. The paparazzi thinned out. And the whispers—though still sharp, still cutting—were quieter now, tucked into corners instead of screamed in my face.But quieter didn’t mean gone.Every time I walked into Denzol, I felt eyes on me. Felt people weighing me against my own past, trying to measure if I was worth the air I was breathing in that building.And the worst part? My brain wouldn’t let me stop replaying the what-ifs.What if Ryan hadn’t left me all those years ago?Would I have finished college? Would Isabella and I have struggled the way we did? Would I have been standing here now, the subject of hashtags and headlines, forced to prove myself to people who’d already made up their minds?The questions festered. The anger burned hotter every day.And the fake dating only made it worse.In public, Ryan and I were perfect.Hand in hand. Smiling. Laughing. Whispering in each other’