Year After Year Infatuated
Back home, there were no people or keepsakes left worth clinging to with nostalgia.
Everything that remained carried toxic memories.
Thus, the moment the Vance Group collapsed into bankruptcy proceedings, I boarded a direct flight back to Germany alongside Christian Sterling.
True to my declaration, I would never lay eyes on Julian Vance again for the rest of my life.
All subsequent acquisition procedures for the Vance Group were handled single-handedly by Christian Sterling.
True to his word, he transferred a full 15% equity stake into my name.
Only, those shares belonged to his own corporate empire.
I frowned: “Why are you transferring your company shares to me?”
“The Vance Group wasn’t worth much anyway.”
Lounging lazily across the sofa with a seductive, languid smile, he spoke with absolute casualness.
I averted my gaze, looking away.
“Playing it this big means you’re taking a loss, I’m warning you.”
Propping his chin in his hand, he tilted his head and smiled at me:
“I never take losses.”
His deep, unblinking gaze carried an unmistakable, profound implication for a fleeting second.
Yet I didn’t bother inquiring further.
Packing my documents into my bag, I stood up.
“Off I go then, goodbye—”
“Hold on.”
He snagged my wrist: “No celebratory hug for closing our MVP campaign?”
“…?”
“Our collaboration went so smoothly, shouldn’t we exchange a polite professional hug?”
“You—”
Before I could finish, his hand gave a firm tug, yanking me straight into his solid chest.
“Just a standard hug then.”
He smiled, his chest vibrating with a steady, warm rhythm.
In that exact instant, I could no longer distinguish whose heartbeat was accelerating at a runaway pace.
…
In the fifth year of knowing Christian Sterling, he finally confessed his feelings to me.
“Actually, I fell in love with you at first sight.”
“You’re pulling my leg. Fall in love at first sight, yet when you saw me bang my head bleeding, you didn’t even lift a finger to help and just stood there watching the show?”
“Truth is, I was too stunned back then and didn’t react in time.”
“If I had rejected you today, would you have let go just like that?”
He smiled brightly: “You really know me inside out.”
“Go on then.”
He beamed with delight: “Does that mean you agree?”
“Agreeing doesn’t mean I love you.”
I looked at him: “Romance doesn’t strictly require burning passion, does it?”
He paused briefly before looking at me with a quiet smile: “Planning to use me as an emotional pastime tool, huh?”
I didn’t answer, but he didn’t seem to mind either.
Shrugging, he pulled me into his arms: “Any tool works, as long as you’re willing to date me.”
My hand pressed lightly against his chest twitched, ultimately failing to push him away, though it didn’t embrace him back. Saying I harbored zero feelings for Christian Sterling would be lying; living side by side for five years with someone so exceptional made emotional detachment impossible.
Yet asking me to pour my heart and soul completely into loving someone once more—I doubted I possessed the courage for it anymore.
“I will make you love me.”
His low, warm voice resonated from above, carrying a rare, uncharacteristic solemnity.
My mind remained in utter turmoil, yet I still offered a quiet response:
“… Alright.”
(The End)