Another girl chimed in; her voice playful. "Yeah, you can't just buy for her. We all want one!"
Zane chuckled awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable, but he approached our stall anyway. He bought five cotton candies—the most expensive ones, of course—and handed them to the girls. But when I went to give him his change, I realized I didn't have enough small bills.
Before I could say anything, Zane smiled and waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'll get it from you next time."
Maybe it was the way he said it, the unexpected friendliness in his voice. The girls around him noticed too. Their playful giggles turned into jealous glares.
One of them, a snobbish girl named Jennifer, stormed over and kicked over our stall, yelling, "Stay away from him, you man-stealing fox!"
Without thinking, I leapt at her. We ended up in a brawl right there on the street, with cotton candy flying everywhere. Later, her parents demanded we pay thousands in compensation, money my family didn't have. We were on the verge of losing everything when Zane showed up, offering to pay the full amount.
"I can't let this fall on you," he had said, his voice steady. "This whole mess started because of me."
From that day forward, we were inseparable. Or so I thought. Now, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder—was that the moment I fell into a trap?
After graduation, Zane seamlessly took over the family business, inheriting a legacy of wealth and power. As for me, after marrying him, I was appointed as a receptionist at his company.
Despite my professional skills and qualifications, I was relegated to this entry-level position. Zane insisted it was necessary for me to "start from the bottom" to gain experience, citing concerns about gossip from employees and shareholders about favoritism.
At the time, I swallowed his explanation, believing that my dedication and hard work would eventually lead to a better role. So, for the sake of our relationship and his wishes, I agreed.
The initial excitement of working at the company soon wore off as I found myself stuck in the receptionist role for three long years. My skills, which could have easily qualified me for a more substantial position, seemed to be overlooked.