Eight Years Wasted,The Billionaire's Secret Girlfriend

Alfred studied the box for a moment, then let out a soft laugh and took it, tucking it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Alright."

He glanced past me toward the entrance, where a light rain had begun to fall. "Looks like everyone's already left. Want me to drive you home? Doesn't seem like the easiest place to catch a cab."

I tilted my head slightly, looking past his shoulder.

Maud was still standing a short distance away, umbrella in hand, apparently unable to flag down a ride.

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. My apartment isn't far. You should probably give Maud a ride first."

Alfred seemed pleased by my consideration. His expression softened noticeably, and he reached over and ruffled my hair.

"Good girl. I'll make it up to you next time."

Then he turned and walked away. He even opened the car door for Maud.

I watched the car pull out and disappear down the rain-slicked street, its taillights shrinking to nothing.

Only then did I take a deep breath and plunge into the rain.

The next day, whether from drinking too much or something else entirely, I woke in the middle of the night with a searing pain in my stomach.

My first instinct was to call Alfred. I'd already dialed the number before I caught myself and hung up.

I'd already made up my mind to leave.

No reason to bother him if I could help it.

I called an ambulance instead.

At the hospital, the doctor told me there was a small cyst on my ovary. I needed surgery.

I also needed someone to sign the consent form.

In all of Cloudvale, the only person I knew was Alfred.

After going back and forth with myself, I finally picked up the phone and called him.

The line connected, and the first thing I heard was Maud's laughter, bright and teasing, somewhere in the background.

"Alfred, I can't believe it. After all these years, you haven't lost your touch in the kitchen! You're actually making garlic butter shrimp for me."

"Not bad, not bad at all. Oh, throw those ribs in the pot too while you're at it. If they turn out good, I'll reward you tonight..."

Then came the sharp, crackling hiss of food hitting hot oil.

Alfred's voice carried a smile. "Deal."

A beat passed before he seemed to remember the call. He came back to me.

"What's up?"

I was on the verge of tears, but I swallowed them down and forced my voice steady.

"I'm at the hospital. I need someone to sign a form. Could you come..."

There was almost no hesitation.

His answer was immediate, his tone flat.

"Sorry, I'm in the middle of something right now. I can't make it back."

"Why don't you sign it yourself? I'll come see you at the hospital once I'm done here."

His voice was so cold, so casual, so utterly routine. In that moment, the tears I'd been holding back spilled down my face all at once.

I laughed softly. "Okay."

The doctor urged me again and again to get a family member to sign. I clenched my jaw.

"I'll sign it myself. If I die, that's on me."

After the surgery, I stayed in the hospital for four full days.

Alfred didn't come to see me. Not once.

I laughed bitterly at myself. I never should have hoped. And yet, like a fool, I kept hoping again and again.

On my last day, I terminated the lease on my apartment. All I had left was a handbag and a single suitcase. I took a deep breath and got ready to hail a cab to the airport.

That was when Alfred called.

"Maria, I've been neglecting you these past few days. About what happened at the hospital... I actually went to check on you later, but the nurse told me you'd already been discharged."

His voice was warm and gentle, the way it always was, though tinged with a note of apology.

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm better now."

"Are you free today? Let's grab dinner."

I glanced at the watch on my wrist. Two and a half hours until boarding.

One last meal. A farewell, even if he didn't know it.

"Sure," I said.

Alfred met me at the restaurant. He seemed to be in a good mood, even peeling shrimp for me without being asked.

"I'll take you to Disneyland in a few days. It's my fault, really. I've been so swamped with work I never took you anywhere."

Now he wanted to spend time with me?

But Alfred, I was already leaving. My flight was in two hours.

Back to Harbor City. And I was never coming back.

I watched him, that gentle look on his face as he finished peeling one shrimp, placed it on my plate, and immediately started on the next.

I swallowed hard against the sting in my eyes and drew a slow breath.

"Alfred, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. The reason I'm going back to Harbor City this week is because I'm—"