To My Childhood Sweetheart, See You Never

Wendy settled into the car for her ride home, her fingers reflexively unlocking her phone. A message from Rita Olson popped up almost immediately—a screenshot.

In the image, Rita was sprawled on the floor in a provocative black bunny outfit, her legs draped with sheer stockings. Her expression was hazy, her gaze both vulnerable and enticing as she looked into the camera.

The message read: [If Master arrives within twenty minutes, this little bunny is yours to devour.]

Beneath it was a brief reply from Grayson's black-profile avatar: [Wait for me.]

Wendy turned off the screen. She closed her eyes, willing herself to suppress the needle-like pain pricking at her heart.

She had thought that after seeing so many such photos, she'd become numb, that her heart would learn to shield itself. But no amount of practice could dull the ache. It swept through her body, relentless, invading even her bones.

Finally, she forced herself to shut her eyes, shutting out the screen as well.

Late that night, Wendy curled up at the edge of the bed, her eyes swollen and red, exhaustion dragging her into a restless sleep. Yet the phone on her bedside table buzzed relentlessly, vibrating every hour until the early morning.

When she finally woke and checked her messages, she found that Rita had been sending her photos throughout the night.

Each photo showed something unmistakable—used contraceptives, one after another.

The accompanying message was sharp as a dagger: [He had me all night. Tried every position imaginable until I couldn't even get out of bed. Has he ever been like this with you?]

Wendy didn't react outwardly, yet she couldn't stop herself from rereading the words and images over and over, dozens of times, as if the repetition would somehow make them unreal.

When Grayson returned, he found her lying on the bed, her eyes swollen and red, clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

His chest tightened, and he hurried to her side, pulling her into his arms, his voice taut with concern.

"Wendy, why are you crying?"

Crying?

Wendy blinked, as if only now realizing it herself. Her fingers brushed her cheeks, and she found them damp. At some point, without knowing it, tears had carved their way down her face.

After a long moment, she let out a soft laugh, though it failed to mask the sadness lingering in her eyes.

"It's nothing. I just saw some… deeply moving photos."

Grayson stroked her face, his tone indulgent, almost playful. "What kind of photos could make you cry like this, baby? Are you trying to break my heart?"

Before she could answer, the butler knocked lightly on the open door and spoke with measured respect. "Sir, the car is ready."

Grayson nodded, then turned back to Wendy, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Wendy, I was wrong yesterday for leaving you alone at the bridal boutique. To make it up to you, I'm taking you to an auction today. Whatever you like, it's yours. Okay?"

Wendy didn't respond, but Grayson took her silence as consent. He scooped her up effortlessly and carried her out of the room, personally selecting her dress, jewelry, and shoes.

At the auction, Grayson spared no expense, bidding on every item during the first half to please Wendy, even though she seemed indifferent to it all.

During the intermission, a group of his friends approached from behind, their voices loud and familiar.

"Well, well, I wondered who was sweeping up everything in the first half—it's Grayson, of course!"

"And here I thought I'd snag something for my grandma's birthday. Looks like I'm going home empty-handed."

"Grayson, the legendary wife-spoiler! Give us a break and let us have a shot at something in the second half, won't you?"

Their teasing was lighthearted, but Grayson barely spared them a glance. He continued peeling an orange for Wendy. "Don't bother trying. Everything in the second half is for Wendy, too."

The men groaned dramatically, clutching their chests as if wounded, though their grins betrayed their admiration.

Grayson ignored them, carefully offering the peeled orange to Wendy. His voice was soft, coaxing.

"Here, baby. It's sweet. Have a bite."

Wendy shook her head faintly, her expression unreadable.

"I'm not hungry. You eat it."

The second half of the auction began soon after. Just as the first item was unveiled, the grand doors to the hall swung open.

A waiter stepped in, bowing respectfully as he escorted a striking woman in a red dress into the room.

In that moment, Wendy felt the subtle stiffening of Grayson's body beside her.

She lifted her eyes, following his gaze, and met Rita's radiant smile as it pierced through the crowd.