He Regretted it When I Refused to Continue Loving Him

"Damn, girl! You look like you haven't slept in months," Portia remarked, dropping a heavy stack of documents onto my desk. "Didn’t you just have a full day off last Friday?"

I glanced at the pile, my fingers lazily skimming the top page. "What does the chief want me to do with these?" I muttered, only half-interested as I flipped through the first few lines.

But then, the title caught my attention: "Exclusive Interview - Tina of Starlight Entertainment." That made me sit up straight, my tiredness instantly forgotten.

Portia raised an eyebrow at my sudden shift in demeanor. "We honestly thought you'd pass on covering this kind of story," she said, sounding slightly surprised. "You know what’s going on with her, right, Lyka?"

I froze for a split second, forcing myself to maintain a neutral expression. My eyes stayed glued to the interview transcript, and I tried to sound casual. "Not really. I just went to the same school as Tina. I was surprised to see her name pop up, that's all."

"Oh, that's right!" Portia gasped. "I totally forgot you went to Wolfheim’s elite academy!"

Working for a famous media outlet had its perks, one of which was the access to obscure information. I’d reached out to an old source, a leaker account with the name LadysButler I’d met early in my career, to arrange an exchange of intel.

Though we didn’t actually meet in person, within five days, I had everything I needed—proof of Tina accepting bribes on her last movie project. Emails, contracts, transaction records. I packaged it all into a tight, damning article that would leave no room for doubt.

As Portia continued talking about the scandal, she casually mentioned that Tina had gone underground, her activities halted, while her agency faced intense backlash. Rumor had it that the police were considering an investigation, stirred by public outrage.

I suppressed a smirk. One target down.

Then, without warning, Portia changed the subject. "Speaking of scandals, don’t you think that ‘SigmaLeaks’ guy is something else? He managed to stir up the entire internet with just one thread in his big return."

My stomach dropped, but I kept my expression neutral, setting the interview papers aside. I forced a laugh. “‘Sigma’ who?”

Portia shot me a look of disbelief. “There’s only one 'SigmaLeaks! The guy’s a legend for exposing celebrities. Seriously, Lyka, how are you a reporter and still so out of the loop? You’re going to lose your edge if you don’t stay current!"

Then, right on cue, the phone on my desk rang. I picked it up, and it was the receptionist.

"Ms. Lyka, could you please come down to the lobby? You really need to stop your fiancé from making us all feel like awkward third wheels every time he shows up with one of those roses."

I glanced at the clock on my computer screen—11:30 AM, perfect timing for lunch. Smiling, I thanked her.

Ralph had finally arrived.

"I'll dive back into the document after lunch!" I said, setting the file in a safe spot inside my cubicle. I stood, grabbed my things, and waved goodbye to Portia before heading out.

--

It had become almost routine for Ralph to show up at my office.

To my colleagues, Ralph was the epitome of a hopeless romantic, determined to wear his heart on his sleeve—even if it meant barging in with grand gestures. He didn’t come by too often, but every now and then, he’d appear with flowers, chocolates, or whisk me away for a lunch date.

At first, the office staff was resistant to his visits. But Ralph’s persistence eventually wore them down, until even the security and receptionist just gave up—on the condition that he stayed confined to the lobby and didn’t venture deeper into the office.

"Hello, my beautiful flower," Ralph greeted me the moment I stepped out of the elevator. He handed me a bouquet of roses, pulling me into a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek. "I’ve missed you so much. Why do you have to live so far from home? When will you finally come back to our house?" His voice was drenched in syrupy affection, making me cringe internally.

My grip tightened around the bouquet. I SO wanted to push him away, but I couldn’t—not when I had to keep up appearances and avoid arousing suspicion. So, I returned his embrace, forcing a smile.

It hit me then, like a slap in the face. This man, time and again, had used these simple, romantic gestures to win me back—to make me forgive him for his mistakes, even in the early days when I first began to suspect his affairs.

"Ms. Lyka," the receptionist interrupted with a hint of amusement, "if you could keep your public displays of affection outside the office, it would be appreciated by everyone."

Before I could respond, Ralph flashed his signature cheerful smile and said, "It's my fault, Mr. Winston. We’ll be leaving now." With that, he guided me toward his car parked just outside the lobby.

As I slipped into the passenger seat, a familiar yet unsettling scent hit me—honeydew mixed with the unmistakable warmth of rum. Tina’s perfume. The realization twisted my stomach. It had been there before, mingling with the roses, but now I could finally place it. That scent had been haunting me every time I got into Ralph's car, a bitter reminder that his affair with Tina had been going on for far too long.

Back then, I hadn’t known it was Tina’s perfume. Or maybe, deep down, I refused to believe that my best friend could be the woman Ralph had been seeing behind my back.

“So, tell me more about that article you were working on," Ralph began casually as he pulled out of the parking lot.

The same conversation, again.

I turned to the window, trying to lose myself in the passing streets and suppress the growing bitterness within me.

"Not much to say." My response came out colder than I intended. I feigned a yawn, hoping to disguise my irritation as sleepiness. "I’ve told you already—my team has been tied up with Wolfheim's major deal with Blue Lake since last week."

Ralph fell silent after that.

This was always how our conversations went whenever he dropped by for one of his “romantic” visits. He’d inevitably circle back to asking for help—whether it was for positive press about Delta Construction, his growing business, or some favorable coverage for Tina’s projects, or Nickel’s ventures.

“Lyka, are you mad at me?”

I glanced at him, trying to keep my voice even. “No. Why would I be? Did you do something wrong?”

“No!” Ralph’s eyes shifted away as he stammered, “I-it’s just...,” he cleared his throat, fumbling for words. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I couldn’t help but wonder if you’ve been avoiding me. You didn’t come home after you got back to Blue Lake.”

He paused, stealing a glance in my direction before continuing. “The last time, you were upset because you thought I was seeing someone else. I just didn’t know if you were still holding onto that.”

Lies.

"And before you get the wrong idea, I haven’t been with anyone outside of business meetings," he quickly added, his eyes briefly flicking to me before focusing back on the road.

I didn’t bother to respond. Ralph had a remarkable talent for souring a conversation, didn’t he?

Deciding to play along and shift the topic before he dug any deeper into my personal life, I asked, “So, where are you taking me?”