He even bought a bouquet of lilies, my favorite, despite being so allergic to the pollen he couldn't stop sneezing.
His clumsy attempts at making amends would have melted me before.
Now they just felt hollow. Pointless.
Saturday. The Channel 5 annual gala.
I walked in on Ferdinand's arm.
He stopped mid-step. His eyes locked onto a woman across the room, and his arm slipped out of my hand before he even seemed to realize he'd done it.
I followed his gaze and saw the woman I'd only known from photographs.
Vera Summers. A tailored pearl-white skirt suit, her short hair swept back without a strand out of place.
She spotted us and smiled, walking over like she belonged there more than I ever would.
"Ferdinand, come on. Let me introduce you to a few of the executives."
She held Ferdinand's arm, working the room from one executive to the next.
Anyone watching would have assumed they were the real couple.
A greasy, leering man sidled up to me, seized my hand, and insisted I share a toast with him.
I shot Ferdinand a look, silently begging him to step in.
He glanced at me once, briefly, then turned away as if nothing had happened.
I finally shook the man off and escaped to the restroom, where I overheard two of Ferdinand's colleagues chatting.
"Ferdinand and Vera are such a perfect match. It's a shame they never made it work back then."
"Did you see the woman Ferdinand brought? That type of influencer would sell her own dignity for clicks."
"Let's be honest, influencers are just kept women with ring lights. Vera's nothing like that. She and Ferdinand are equals. Now that's a love story worth rooting for."
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, makeup flawless, every line in place. In my own world, I'd clawed my way up through sheer, relentless effort.
So why, the moment I stood next to Ferdinand, did I become nothing more than an embarrassment he couldn't put on display?
Back in the ballroom, Ferdinand was talking to Vera.
They stood close enough that from a distance their heads nearly touched, intimate as lovers.
Nothing like me. In public, Ferdinand always kept at least three feet between us, as if by instinct.
I walked over. Ferdinand saw me and straightened, his expression perfectly composed.
Vera gave me a small nod.
"Just catching up with Ferdinand. You don't mind, do you, Ms. Winfield?"