His First Love or Me—Who Will He Choose? I Refuse Chapter 07
One month into the job, Sherry took the whole
team out for some night snacks.
The night market hummed with noise and chatter.
People hauled over crates of beer and passed
them around.
Nina tossed the bottle opener to me.
“Newbie rule. Drink half a bottle first.”
I took the bottle.
“Half? That’s all you’ve got?”
I tipped my head back and downed the whole
thing.
They started clapping.
“Damn, Lydia!”
A few rounds in, Nina started spinning a bottle.
“Truth or dare!”
The bottle stopped on me first.
Nina slammed the table. “How many exes?
Longest relationship?”
I propped my chin on my hand and thought.
“One.”
“Nine years.”
The table went quiet for a second.
Sherry sucked her teeth. “Nine years and still broke up? That guy must be a real piece of trash.”
I smiled. “My eyesight used to be bad.”
No one pushed. They just piled food onto my
plate.
“Eat up. Out with the old, in with the new!”
Second round. The bottle landed on me again.
Nina’s eyes lit up.
“Dare! Call your ex. Curse him out for three
minutes.”
“If you can’t do it, we’ll do it for you.”
I almost said no. But the alcohol burned my throat.
And the nine years of hurt I’d been choking down.
I pulled out my phone.
Fred’s number was still blocked.
I unblocked it and dialed. It rang for one second.
He picked up.
There was noise on his end. Sounded like a
conference room.
Fred’s voice came through, hoarse.
“Lydia?”
I gripped the phone.
“Fred. You disgust me!”
The line went dead quiet on his end.
I had no idea he was sitting in a board meeting.
His phone was connected to Bluetooth speakers.
Screen sharing still on.
My voice carried loud and clear through the whole
room.
“How much brain damage did I have to play secret girlfriend for nine years?”
“You treated your first love like a goddess. Me like
trash.”
“For nine years I burned myself out for you, and
you still said I was an embarrassment.”
“You should just stay locked up with your regrets.
Leave the rest of us alone.”
Cheers around the table.
Nina grabbed the phone. “Scumbag, right? Let me
tell you something. Lydia is doing great now.”
“She’s got guys lining up from one end of the
street to the other. Stay away from her!”
Dead silence on the other end.
After a long time, Fred’s low voice asked,
“Where is she?”
Nina was drunk. She gave him the address.
“What? You want to come here and get beat up?”
The call ended. I grabbed the phone back, but it
was too late.
I blacked out that night.
All I remember is Sherry helping me upstairs,
cursing at me.
“You’re something else. Crying while you’re yelling
at him? Come on!”
Back in Fred’s conference room, no one dared look
- up.
The board chairman stared at him.
“Fred. Your personal life has damaged this
company enough. Stop.”
Fred gripped his phone. Veins bulging on the back
of his hand.
I woke up the next morning with a splitting
headache.
I opened my bedroom door.
A man stood in the kitchen, in a crisp white shirt
and black slacks, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
His eyes were bloodshot, like he’d driven all night.
without sleep.
Fred was frying eggs. He heard me and turned.
“You’re up.”
“There’s a cup of milk. Have it.”
I stood there. The drunken fog cleared fast.
“Who let you in?”
He’d sweet–talked Mrs. Brown into letting him in,
spinning some story about being my boyfriend
come to surprise me.
I laughed coldly.
“You’re good at fooling people.”
Fred walked over with a plate.
“Lydia. Let’s talk.”
I raised my hand and knocked the plate out of it.
The fried egg and broken ceramic scattered
across the floor.
Hot oil splashed onto the back of his hand.
He froze, not even flinching from the burn. I
pointed straight at the door, my voice ice–cold.
“Get out.”
