My Tough Armor

Today was my last date ever with Vernon Grayson.

As usual, he hugged me from the back after we did the deed and gently nipped my earlobe with his lips. His fingers traced over every inch of my exposed skin beneath him.

His voice was low and sultry as he referred to me by my nickname.

"Callie…"

I felt like I was about to fall for him once again when I heard him. I dearly wanted to believe that this was true love.

I used to think that a person would have to be very deeply in love with someone else for them to be so gentle and patient with them in bed. I also firmly believed that his self-control and attention to details meant that he saw me as his one and only.

That was because I simply couldn't fathom why a man would ever waste his precious time on a woman whom he didn't even love.

However, Vernon hadn't been spending the night with me for the past two months. No matter how late it was, he would still insist on going home, and that was because someone else had appeared in his life once more, and she was none other than Samara Horton, Vernon's childhood friend.

The sky was as dark as ink. I was just about to fall asleep in Vernon's arms when he suddenly withdrew his arm. At once, I felt my chest go hollow.

I watched as he turned his back on me, put on his tie, and shrugged on his coat. When he turned, he bent over the bed and chastely placed a kiss next to my lips. Then, he carefully set down the latest limited-edition designer handbag by the bedside table.

He smiled casually at me. "I thought you'd already fallen asleep. Don't forget to use the handbag."

A second later, the door closed behind him, and my room descended into a cold silence afterward.

At that point, I'd completely given up on him.

It reminded me of my parents back when I was a little kid. After their divorce, neither Mom nor Dad wanted custody of me and kept pushing me to the other.

I cried hard as I tugged at their pant cuffs, begging for them to take me away, but they just shrugged my hands off and shoved me toward each other. Then, they turned their backs on me and formed new families of their own.

Neither Mom nor Dad spared me a backward glance.

From that day onward, I learned to stand on my own two feet. I had to take care of myself.

I was only six years old when I faced the loneliness, the danger, and the helplessness of life on my own.

I forced myself to be strong and resilient. I forced myself to be independent. I made sure to build a tough armor around myself to protect myself from harm.

My armor was close to perfect during my childhood and teenage years. However, on the night of my 18th birthday, the first crack started to form in my carefully-crafted armor.

I'd just gotten off work from the graveyard shift and was on my way back to my dormitory when I ran into a group of drunk street thugs. Just as they were about to force me to my wits' end, Vernon suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

After chasing off the thugs, he gathered me in his arms even though my knee was bleeding from earlier.

His hug threw me completely off guard. It felt like the strange yet familiar warmth of a father's hug—big, strong, and safe.

Vernon brought me to his home and cleaned up my wounds for me before handing me a bathrobe.

I thought he would take advantage of me. After all, the hero would always expect something in return from the damsel in distress that he'd just saved.

However, Vernon just poured me a glass of warm water and said, "Go to sleep."

Nothing happened.

The next day, he sent me back to school.

Just before I left, he handed me his business card and said that I was free to look for him if I ever wanted a new job or needed his help.

I never forgot the warmth he showed me that night. It was precisely the warmth I'd felt from that night that pierced right through my armor and melted it away completely.

I eventually became his personal assistant. I was also the only woman who was ever allowed to sleep with him after that.

He turned hundreds of other women away and chose me, Calista Summers, instead.

Over the next five years of our secret relationship, Vernon gave me all the love and care that I'd been missing since my childhood. He made it all up to me.

On my birthdays, he would be like a father to me, bringing me to amusement parks and buying me beautiful dresses so that I could relive my childhood and fill it with only pleasant memories again.

During vacations, he would be like a lover to me, taking me to see the first snowfall in Burleigh, the giant windmills in Hallington, and the beautiful sunrise in Mt. Snoozy.

Every hotel we ever stayed in would remember our delighted squeals and laughter during the day, as well as the traces of our lovemaking during the night.

I let myself drown in his love and attention, as if I'd finally found my happy place, the place where I'd belonged.

Two months ago, I had a present for him.

It was a pregnancy test kit with two clear red lines showing in the indicator. I was pregnant, and it was the proudest secret I'd ever kept from him. I wanted to surprise him with it at our fifth anniversary dinner.

I even planned it so well that we could get married on the day of my college graduation. The future looked bright and hopeful to me.

However, I waited for him that night at the restaurant from 8:00 pm until midnight, when the place had to close for the night. And yet, Vernon never appeared.

He had sent someone over to deliver a bunch of 99 red roses and a matching set of precious ruby jewelry to me worth millions of dollars, but they felt so cold to me, like they were mocking me.

The next morning, I saw him making the headlines in the news.

"Top Mafia Boss Spotted Welcoming Girlfriend at Airport Last Night".

The accompanying photo showed Samara wearing Vernon's coat over her shoulders as he opened the backseat door for her. He even had a hand against the top of the car so she wouldn't bump her head against the edge.

His eyes were so gentle that they looked completely foreign to me.

The gentle look in his eyes was far more authentic than the gentleness he'd shown me over the past five years.

I moved out of the mansion that day.

When I left, I knew that I had to put up my armor once again. I'd come to understand that there wasn't anyone in the world who could be my safe place, even if that person used to make me think that he loved me.