The smile on the boss's daughter's face froze.
The entire room fell into a dead silence.
Everyone thought of that interview with Fitzroy.
The woman who had dumped him, yet he could never forget.
He had said over and over that he would make her get lost.
But anyone with eyes could see that the one who couldn't forget was the real loser in love.
My boss, trembling, asked:
"So, the woman you mentioned in the interview, is it Miss Aldrins?"
"It's her."
Fitzroy threw his napkin on the table, lowered his eyes, and smiled coldly:
"There's no need to be so nervous, it's all in the past."
"That interview was a slip of the tongue. I won't be with someone who once betrayed me. I hope Miss Aldrins understands."
"I understand."
I found it a bit amusing.
I licked my lips, stood up on my own, and raised my glass to him:
"When we were younger, I didn't understand. Let's settle the old grievances, and now I'll been punished to show my respect. I hope Mr. Wensley won't hold any grudges, and won't blame me."
The fiery liquor burned down my throat.
Fitzroy's expression grew colder.
He lightly traced the ring on his middle finger, his gaze piercing through me like that of a predator eyeing a helpless prey.
---
My head was pounding, and after vomiting for a while in the flowerbed, I finally felt somewhat better.
By the time I finished, Fitzroy had already dismissed everyone.
Standing three steps away from me, he held a cigarette between his fingers, leaning casually against the shining luxury car, coldly watching my discomfort.
"Do you see this cigarette?"
He waved it in front of me: "One cigarette, just enough to cover your mother's medical expenses for a month."
With that, he crushed the cigarette under his expensive leather shoe, grinding it into pieces.
I felt dizzy, so I simply sat on the ground, hugged my knees, and looked up at him:
"Are you here to show off?"
"Fitzroy, you've really stooped to a new low, humiliating your ex-girlfriend now that you're wealthy. You have no class."
He sneered, then changed the subject:
"So, how did your date go today? Did you like that bald man who's seven years older than you?"
"It's fine."
I lazily leaned back against the flowerbed:
"Although he's bald, his face isn't bad. It was just a date, not a romance. I don't ask for much.
"By the way, Mr. Wensley, in that interview, you said you couldn't forget me. Now you come to my company and even know about my date... You wouldn't still like me, would you?"
His face darkened further:
"You think too much."
"I just wanted to see how good the new life you chose when you abandoned me really was."
"Now it seems... well."
"You don't have to mock me."
I gave up:
"I know exactly how I ended up like this, how I got here step by step."
"Fitzroy, you and I are no longer in the same league. Why bother with me anymore? I ask you to show some magnanimity and not hold those old trivial matters against me."
"What if I still want to hold it against you?"
I opened my eyes helplessly. I held back the urge to say, "You're pathetic."
I could only ask him: "So what do you want?"
"Be my lover."
His gaze was heavy:
"Adele, didn't you always love money? Your mother's surgery also needs money, and by chance, money is the one thing I have plenty of.
"Be my lover, and I'll give you three million a month. When I'm done, you can leave."
I: "..."
Had he read too many romance novels?
Did he really think that for someone who's worked for years like me, money for companionship would be insulting?
I slowly stood up, adjusted my clothes, and seriously asked him:
"Mr. Wensley, do you have a wife or a girlfriend?"
"No."
"That's good."
I nodded and said: "Although I don't have money, I still maintain basic moral standards."
"I won't be a third wheel."
"By the way, would you like me to go get a full physical check-up, Mr. Wensley? You might want to get one too, just for peace of mind..."
"Adele!"
He couldn't hold back anymore:
"Shut your mouth and get in the car."
"Also."
He handed me a towel: "Wipe the vomit off your face."
I took it, casually wiped it once or twice, and only then did I notice the filth on the white towel, realizing how disgusting I must have looked.
Fitzroy didn't even remind me, and he was talking about keeping me as a mistress with that disgusting face?
Has he lost his mind?
I pressed my lips together, lowered my head, and climbed into the luxury car. I leaned against the leather seat, the alcohol in my system making me feel drowsy.
"Let's go to my place."
He said, "Your place is too far in the suburbs."
"Mm."
I agreed, not feeling the need to make a fuss.
I leaned back, half asleep, when I heard Fitzroy's deep voice:
"Do you regret breaking up with me back then?"
"Of course I do!"
My voice was a bit defeated:
"But regret doesn't help.
"What's done is done. There's no redemption for regret in this world."
I thought about that interview and asked him belatedly:
"So, if I regret it, will you ask me get lost?"
He didn't answer.
