"Zachary, I really love this dress. I just have to have it," Yvette said coyly, clinging to his arm and acting sweet.
Zachary nodded, already negotiating with the manager. “Call the woman who ordered this dress. Tell her I’ll pay an extra 100,000, plus another 100,000 as compensation if she gives it up.”
Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. So, for his "beloved Yvette," he could be this generous.
The store manager was clearly tempted by Zachary’s offer and went to the back to make the call.
I slowly walked up behind Zachary and Yvette spotted me first. Her face turned slightly pale, and she nudged Zachary’s arm, looking pitifully at him.
Zachary turned slowly. The moment his eyes met mine, his expression darkened, as if my presence was an inconvenience. “Why aren’t you at the company, Vivian? There’s so much to handle. What are you doing here?” No shame, no remorse—just immediate accusations, as if I were in the wrong.
I stood there silently, staring at him, not wanting to argue. The tears that might have come last night had already dried up. There was nothing left inside me for him. He wasn’t worth it. Not anymore.
Seeing that I remained silent, Zachary Zachary sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if I were the source of all his problems. "You see, I love Yvette. Stop making things difficult for us. I’ll give you money, enough for you to leave quietly and with dignity.”
Dignity? The word felt like a slap, but I remained calm, my gaze steady on him. I wasn’t here to fight or plead. There was only one question left in my heart, and I needed to hear the answer from him.
“Zachary,” I began quietly, my voice firm, “I just want to know—after all these years, did you ever truly love me?”
His lips twisted into a cruel smile, one that chilled me to the bone. “Vivian, you’ve loved me, I know. So much that it’s almost obsessive. But let’s be honest, in front of Yvette—I never loved you. I only agreed to be with you because I felt sorry for you, chasing me for so many years."
Even though I had expected the worst, his words cut deeper than I imagined. But that’s fine. If he could be this ruthless, so could I.
Before I could respond, the store manager returned from the back. “Sir, I’m sorry but—” She stopped short, noticing me. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, Ma’am Vivian, you’re here! This gentleman was just—”