Chapter 2

Our first life together started in high school and led to marriage.

He pursued his painting dream. I studied pharmacology. Both were expensive, time-consuming paths.

Naturally, one of us had to sacrifice.

Out of love for him, I gave up my chance to go to med school and pursue a PhD. I entered the workforce early, supporting both of our dreams on my single income.

He faced failure after failure, each time sinking into frustration and despair.

I was like his personal, never-depleted charging station. No matter how tired I was coming home, I patiently comforted him and bolstered his spirits. I thought he understood my love.

I was wrong. During yet another discussion about him pursuing further training, which I had to refuse due to a lack of funds, he slammed his paintbrush to the ground in a rage.

"You know what? If I'd listened to Isabelle and gone to Franctica with her to study art, I wouldn't be living this pathetic life!" he shouted.

Then he continued. "I truly regret being with you."

After that, he stopped painting. His dream died.

And I, haunted by his words, often cried myself to sleep.

In a final, desperate attempt to save us, I held him and whispered, "Lucas, I want to have a child with you."

He shoved me away violently, his eyes filled with unmistakable disgust. "How could we possibly afford a child in our situation? Besides, I've told you before, I hate kids. I don't want to have a child with you."

Those sentences shattered the last bit of hope I held onto.

Our lives ended during a car argument, a truck heading straight for us.

In that final moment, I felt no fear. Only relief.

Now, we had both chosen distance, leaving our past unspoken.

I quietly pushed the bank card back toward him. "That's not necessary. I don't accept things from strangers. Thank you."

He frowned, his tone accusatory. "Emily, I'm a stranger to you? What is that supposed to mean?"

I replied calmly, "No matter what job I have now, I find it respectable. There's no shame in it, and I'm not throwing my life away. Keep your money for someone who truly needs it."

He clutched the bank card, his lips pressed into a tight line, standing rigidly.

Isabelle walked over to Lucas, glanced at the card in his hand, and seemed to understand.

Though anger flickered in her eyes, she maintained her gentle facade. "Emily, you won't accept our gift? How about something more practical, then?

"I recently opened a café on City Boulevard. You can start there as a coffee apprentice. The pay isn't high, maybe five thousand a month, but you'll learn a skill. If you're ever desperate later, you could even open your own café.

"How about it? Interested? That's surely a more respectable job than whatever you're doing now."

I continued eating calmly, refusing their 'generosity. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm very satisfied with my current job. I'm not looking for a change."

People began pointing and whispering. "Emily, why are you being so ungrateful. Lucas and Isabelle are kindly offering you money and a job opportunity," some said to me.

"Yeah, look at the state you're in, still clinging to your pride! You showed up at a high-end event like this looking so down-and-out, probably just to scrounge for connections. And now you play the aloof card?" another one chimed in.

Isabelle put on a show of being the peacemaker. "Everyone, please. Maybe Emily genuinely loves her current job."

She then turned to me, smiling, but her eyes held a challenge. "Emily, this is our sincere offer, given out of fondness for the past. Don't let stubborn pride make you miss this chance."

I felt a wave of helplessness, wondering why they were so insistent on forcing their 'help' on me. "Really, it's not needed. Thank you both," I replied.

Lucas gripped the card, his voice full of scorn. "Pathetic. Can't even help someone who refuses to be helped. Just resign yourself to a life of poverty."

As soon as he spoke, a few men sidled over.

They tried to pressure me into drinking. One of them said, "Emily, since you're having such a tough time, I'll give you three hundred bucks for every drink you finish. Really hard up? I'll even throw in a little extra."

I frowned. This reunion was nothing like I'd expected. If I weren't waiting for someone, I would have left already.

I was about to call for security when Lucas, standing nearby, suddenly stubbed out his cigarette. His eyes turned icy, radiating anger. "Back off," he growled.

He gripped one man's wrist so hard the man yelped in pain.

I couldn't help but look at Lucas, surprised he'd intervened.

Isabelle was fuming but forced a smile. "Don't cause a scene. I heard a big shot is supposed to appear in the upstairs conference room soon.

"The CEO of Skywell Group. With any luck, we might even catch a glimpse of the richest man in Southcrest."