No Spring Comes from A Cold Man

I had spent years paying for Damian Grant’s infertility in every way a woman could.

Doctors, treatments, private clinics, and humiliation I swallowed in silence.

Then, against every odd, I finally got pregnant.

It was the child the Grant family had been waiting for. The miracle Madam Evelyn Grant had prayed for. The one thing Damian had been told he might never have.

On the night before our wedding, I saw a local post climbing the trending list.

[Another day of being the only girl who gets under my boss’s skin.]

In the video, a young woman smiled sweetly at the camera.

[My boss is terrifying to everyone else. Cold eyes, bad temper, the whole package. But today, during a meeting, I secretly stepped on his shoe under the table. He actually smiled at me. Then he texted me and told me to behave.]

The comments were full of people swooning.

[That has to be love. A man like that only softens for one woman.]

[Look closely. There must be some little detail on him that belongs only to you.]

I scrolled down and saw the influencer’s reply.

It was a photo of a dark silver tie clip pinned right over her chest.

[This is the gift he gave me. He said whenever I see it, I should think of him.]

I stared at that tie clip for a long time.

It was the engagement gift I had spent a month polishing by hand for Damian.

And inside it, there was still a tiny heart made from his fingerprint and mine.

In the mirror, the white wedding dress on me suddenly looked painfully bright.

The tie clip in that photo was the one I had given Damian Grant last month.

I still remembered the way he had taken it from my hand. He had barely glanced at it before tossing it into a drawer.

“Don’t waste your time on things like this again. You’re going to be my wife. Put that energy into learning how to run a household.”

His tone had been cold and flat, as if he were commenting on a bad quarterly report.

I had thought he simply didn’t like the gift.

But now, there it was, pinned neatly to another woman’s collar, turned into something she could parade around as proof that she was special.

Through the screen, it felt as if someone had slapped me across the face. My ears rang.

So the heart I had spent ten years trying to reach had already been handed to someone else.

A dry ache scraped at my throat. Somehow, I started laughing.

I took off the wedding dress and called Damian.

“Where are you?”

“At work.” His voice was as cold as ever, edged with impatience.

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

“There’s a reception tonight. Ethan will be there. You remember him, don’t you? When we were kids, my mother saved you and him from that fire...”

He cut me off.

“I’m busy. Go by yourself.”

I still refused to let it go. My voice trembled despite my best effort to steady it.

“He’s in charge of the Cole family now. I think we should at least show up together...”

The line went dead.

As always, he hadn’t let me finish.

Only the empty dial tone remained in my ear.

But right before the call ended, I clearly heard a soft, petulant voice on his side.

“Damian, who was that? She sounded so rude.”

My stomach turned, and nausea rose sharply in my throat.

Clutching my phone, I checked his location.

It led me to an exclusive private club. After paying my way in, I went straight to Damian’s private room.

But I didn’t go inside.

I stood outside the door.

The man who had claimed he was at work was sitting inside, drinking and laughing as if he had no care in the world.

And beside him was the girl from the video, Lily Hart.

“Damian, I have to hand it to your new intern. She actually managed to get a smile out of you.”

One of Damian’s childhood friends lifted his glass and teased him.

“But does the woman waiting at home know? That little housekeeper’s daughter you’ve kept around for ten years won’t get jealous, will she?”

“Jealous of what? She’s just an old obligation Madam Evelyn Grant forced on him. Damian’s already being generous by agreeing to marry her.”

“Exactly. Her mother ran into that fire years ago and saved Evelyn and Damian, sure, but Vivian has hardly suffered for it. She grew up in the Grant family, didn’t she? Good food, good clothes, the whole privileged life. Evelyn is getting sentimental in her old age. A promise made after a fire doesn’t mean Damian has to spend his life paying for it.”

The room burst into laughter.

I went completely still.

I stared at Damian, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Just once.

But he didn’t.

He only smiled faintly and drank another glass of wine.

Lily hooked both hands around Damian’s arm and shook it playfully.

“That’s true, Damian. You’re so incredible. If you get married this young, a lot of women are going to be heartbroken.”

The moment she said it, another friend laughed.

“Is this little assistant talking about herself?”

Lily immediately pouted.

“Damian, look. They’re all making fun of me.”

She kept tugging at his arm, all sweetness and practiced innocence.

At last, Damian set down his glass and spoke.

“Are you done?”

His gaze swept across the room, his voice cold enough to cut through the laughter.

The private room fell silent at once.

Even I held my breath.

His friend quickly laughed and tried to ease the tension.

“We’re just joking. Don’t take it seriously, Damian. We’re only curious. You treat this girl completely differently from Vivian Shaw.”

“It’s been ten years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile at Vivian.”

“She’s so stiff and quiet. How could she be as fun as Lily?”

“So the wedding is tomorrow. Are you actually going through with it or not? Give us a straight answer so we know what to prepare for. Or do what Lily said and tell Evelyn the truth. Don’t sacrifice your whole life just for the inheritance.”

At those words, my eyes fixed on Damian.

I only wanted an answer.

It was such a simple thing.

Simple enough that no matter what he said, I already knew what I would do next.

The wine moved slowly in his glass, throwing dark red flashes across his face.

He didn’t look at anyone. He only kept turning the glass in his hand.

Finally, his thin lips parted.