His First Love or Me—Who Will He Choose? I Refuse Chapter 06
Fred started looking for me.
He went to my old company.
When my former coworker heard he was there,
she laughed coldly.
“Now you’re looking for Lydia?”
“When she drank until her stomach bled at those
client dinners, where were you?”
“Oh, I remember. You were at the airport picking up
Tina, right?”
Fred froze. He didn’t remember. Or he’d never
really paid attention to my pain.
He only remembered that I always fixed things.
That I always came back smiling. That I always
said it was fine.
That night, he opened my old laptop.
The password was his birthday.
He stared at the login box for a long time.
There was a folder inside.
It was called:
[Everything About Fred]
I’d been adding quiet little entries to it for years,
tiny moments I’d never told him about.
[Today he signed his first round of funding. His
hands were shaking. I pretended not to notice and
made him dinner.]
[He said we can’t go public yet again. I said okay.
Not because it didn’t hurt. Because I love him.]
[His stomach hurt. I went out at midnight to get
medicine. He woke up and asked why I was still
awake. I was happy about that for hours.]
[Year seven. Still no proposal. Should I take the
hint?]
[Countdown to the engagement party. I hope this
time, I’m not someone he has to hide.]
The final entry was dated the night I’d walked out.
[I was never his family. I was just the stand–in for
his regret he could never let go of.]
Fred stared at the screen. His eyes turned red.
He found the photo album. Lots of candid shots.
of him. Sleeping. In meetings. Eating. Frowning at
documents.
Each photo had a note underneath.
[The young Mr. Harris looks handsome today.]
[He finally smiled.]
[I hope he’s not so tired anymore.]
Fred covered his face with his hands.
Tears leaked through his fingers.
He suddenly remembered a long time ago.
The day the company was about to go under. He
sat in the stairwell smoking.
I crouched in front of him, took the cigarette away,
and smiled.
“Fred, you can’t even beat me?”
“I haven’t given up on you. What gives you the right
to give up on yourself?”
Back then, he thought I was the sun.
Bright. Loud. Like I’d never burn out.
But the sun leaves too.
Meanwhile, more and more problems piled up at
Fred Corp.
The company’s IPO review was put on indefinite
hold.
Several business partners demanded a review of
the early funding transactions.
One old client asked for me by name.
Fred sat in the conference room, listening to his
assistant report carefully.
“Mr. Johnson said he signed the deal because of
Miss Jones. If she’s no longer with the company, he sees no reason to renew the partnership.”
“If Miss Jones isn’t there, he won’t continue the
partnership.”
Fred looked up. His voice was hoarse.
“She’s not a Fred Corp employee anymore?”
The assistant was quiet for a few seconds.
“Mr. Fred, Miss Jones was never officially hired.”
“She was never on the payroll. She was your
unofficial founding partner, all but in name.”
Unofficial partner.
Fred froze. He suddenly remembered all the times
I asked him to put our agreement in writing.
He said he was too busy. He said he’d do it later.
He said we’re getting married. Why do we need to
be so formal about every little thing?
When I arrived in the small coastal town, soft,
steady rain was falling. The ocean was just a
short walk away, and the air hung thick with salt
and damp greenery.
I rented an old house.
My landlady, Mrs. Brown, looked at my suitcase
the first time she saw me.
“You came here alone?”
I nodded. “Just clearing my head.”
She studied me.
“Got hurt by a man, didn’t you?”
I was stunned for a moment.
Mrs. Brown waved her hand.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I was young and dumb
once too.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Mrs. Brown had a daughter named Sherry Brown. She ran a wedding planning studio in the old town.
When she heard I had project management experience and knew event planning, she asked. me to help out.
The studio wasn’t big. Five of us total.
Most of the work wasn’t arranging flowers.
It was listening to brides complain about their in–laws, watching bridesmaids trash their exes,
hearing clients panic about budgets.
After hearing so many stories, I slowly learned to
smile and replied,
“Leave him. Don’t force it.”
The first time Sherry heard me say that, she
laughed so hard she almost cut a rose stem in
half.
“Lydia, you’re perfect for this business.”
I asked why.
She said, “You look like someone who’s actually
clawed your way through a really toxic
relationship. You make breaking up sound
convincing.”
