Love Is Lost

Esme didn't seem the least bit bothered by my attitude.

"Understood. I'll relay your message to Ben," she replied swiftly and hung up.

Of course, to them, my emotions probably just came across as petty and pathetic.

Suppressing the sting in my eyes, I gazed deeply at Dad's tombstone before I hailed a cab back to Benji's villa.

It was a snowy day, and the roads were treacherous. By the time I arrived, Benji had already returned from the gala.

Under the dim yellow light, he was sprawled lazily on the sofa, eyes half-closed.

He no longer exuded the commanding presence he did at the office. Instead, he looked soft and harmless, like a docile puppy.

The stark contrast was enough to tug at anyone's heartstrings.

Instinctively, I lightened my footsteps and moved closer.

Just then, a gentle voice came from the kitchen.

"Ben, the hangover soup is ready. Want me to feed it to you?"

The voice was followed by Esme carrying a bowl of soup out of the kitchen.

While her presence didn't surprise me, what caught me off guard was that she was wearing nothing but one of Benji's white shirts.

And not just any shirt—it was the one I had gifted him on our first Valentine's Day together. I had spent half a month's salary and meticulously compared dozens of brands to pick out the perfect one.

Now, it was on Esme.

"Mr. Warren," I uttered with a mocking tone, "it seems you've moved on. But don't you think it's only fair to notify your ex so she can clear out first? This is quite the awkward situation."

Ignoring their flirtatious atmosphere, I turned to leave.

But Benji shot up and grabbed my arm. "Sydney, what's your problem this time? Esme spilled wine on her dress, so I just gave her something to change into. Stop making a scene."

I hadn't intended to argue. After all, I was getting married to another man in five days. My only reason for coming back was to resign from my job and give this relationship a proper ending.

Whatever was going on between him and Esme, I should have pretended not to notice. However, seeing my gift on her was something I just couldn't stomach.

I looked back and stared at the lipstick stain on Benji's jawline.

"So, what you're saying is that I should be okay with another woman waltzing into my boyfriend's home, wearing his shirt, and leaving lipstick marks on him?"

My sharp glare made Benji reflexively grab a tissue to wipe his jaw with a hint of unease.

Esme, however, showed no shame. She said, "Only a dirty mind would see something improper. So what if it's my lipstick? Ben and I grew up together. Even if there were something between us, what does it have to do with you?

"Stop using threats like moving out to manipulate Ben. He's already under enough pressure running Warren Group. If you can't help, at least don't make things harder. Since you don't like me here, I won't come next time."

How impressive.

As Benji's top assistant, she had a talent for turning the tables.

Nonetheless, I wasn't about to back down this time.

Just as I opened my mouth to retort, Benji frowned and cut me off.

"Sydney, apologize to Esme. She's only helping you since you refused to prepare the soup. The least you could do is thank her instead of accusing her. Did your parents not teach you manners?"

His mention of parents reminded me of Dad.

Suppressing the pain welling up inside me, I glared at Benji. "Apologize? Neither of you deserves it."

With that, I stormed upstairs to my room.

Benji was seemingly intent on teaching me my place as he decided to drive Esme home. As I listened to the sound of his car engine fading into the night, I sat in the darkness and let out a bitter laugh.

If I were honest, calling myself Benji's girlfriend was a stretch. I was more like a pet to pass his time.

When he was bored, I had to be at his beck and call. But when I wanted to see him, I had to schedule through Esme. And nine times out of ten, I wouldn't even get to.

But it didn't matter anymore. After all, I was about to marry someone else.