MR WALLACE'S SUBSTITUTE BRIDE.

THIRD PERSON POV

Anastasia let out a deep sigh as she collapsed onto her bed after her bath.

The warm water had helped a little, washing away the sweat and stress from the long day, but it did nothing for the exhaustion sitting heavily inside her bones. Her legs still ached from standing all day at the office, and the terrible traffic on her way home had only made everything worse.

The small apartment was quiet, almost too quiet.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for the cup of tea resting on the small stool beside her bed. Earlier, she had managed to eat two cupcakes because honestly, she was far too tired to cook anything proper.

Tonight, survival was enough.

She took another sip of tea before finally reaching for her phone.

Working for Travis Wallace had completely ruined whatever social life she once had. Most days, she barely touched her phone unless it involved office work or family matters. Sometimes she even forgot she owned one until she returned home at night like this.

As she lazily scrolled through her notifications, her eyes suddenly landed on a message.

Ronan.

Immediately, the tiredness in her eyes softened.

She quickly opened it.

"Hey Anastasia, can we meet for dinner at Westwood Bar? Eight pm sharp please. I will be waiting."

Her eyes widened.

"Oh no."

The time at the top of her screen made her jump up instantly from the bed.

Without wasting another second, Anastasia rushed toward her wardrobe and pulled out a simple flowered gown that stopped below her knees. She brushed through her hair hurriedly, adjusted her glasses, slipped into her flats, and grabbed her bag without even checking herself properly in the mirror.

Her body begged her to stay home.

Her feet hurt badly.

Every part of her wanted sleep.

But this was Ronan.

Her boyfriend.

The man she had been dating for six months now.

No matter how exhausted she felt, she could not stand him up.

"Please God, help me not to be too late," she whispered under her breath as she hurried out of her apartment.

The moment she reached the roadside, she raised her hand for a taxi.

Thankfully, the first cab stopped.

Anastasia entered quickly, holding her bag tightly against her chest as nervousness slowly settled inside her stomach.

Throughout the drive, she kept checking the time on her phone repeatedly.

Traffic.

Always traffic.

By the time she finally arrived at Westwood Bar, guilt had already started eating at her conscience.

She quickly paid the taxi driver before stepping out.

The place was lively despite the late hour. Music floated softly through the air while groups of people laughed around tables both inside and outside the bar.

Anastasia adjusted her glasses and quickly checked her phone.

9:15 PM.

Her heart dropped instantly.

More than an hour late.

"He probably left already," she murmured softly to herself.

And honestly, she would not blame him if he did.

Disappointment and guilt settled heavily inside her chest as she slowly turned around, already preparing herself mentally to head back home.

"Anastasia."

The familiar voice stopped her immediately.

She turned quickly toward the direction of the voice and relief washed over her almost instantly.

He waited.

A small smile found its way to her lips as she made her way toward the table where Ronan sat.

Ronan looked neat as always.

His blond hair was properly arranged, his white shirt clean and crisp against his skin. To Anastasia, he had always looked handsome in a calm and simple way.

"I'm so sorry, Ro..."

"It's fine," he interrupted quietly before she could continue.

Anastasia blinked in surprise.

She had expected annoyance.

Maybe irritation.

After all, she was more than an hour late.

Yet Ronan looked strangely calm.

"Sit," he said.

Something about his tone felt unusually firm, but Anastasia ignored it and quietly sat opposite him.

"Look, I am not angry with you," Ronan began, leaning back slightly.

"I know how seriously you take your work with Travis Wallace. Even when the man probably does not appreciate half the things you do for him, you still overwork yourself."

Anastasia sighed softly.

"I am not doing my job because I want appreciation, Ronan."

She looked at him carefully.

"I work hard because I have responsibilities. That job pays my bills. It helps me support my family and my siblings."

The moment the words left her mouth, Ronan suddenly gave a dry laugh.

"Oh wow."

Anastasia frowned.

"So now you are trying to remind me that I am not useful enough?" he asked sharply.

Her brows pulled together in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are trying to say you survive all by yourself. That you take care of yourself, pay your bills, and therefore I have no right to complain after waiting here for over an hour."

His voice had risen slightly now.

People nearby began glancing toward their table.

Anastasia stared at him in complete disbelief.

"What are you even saying right now, Ronan?"

This did not sound like the man she knew.

The Ronan she met six months ago was calm and gentle.

But tonight, he felt different.

Almost like a stranger.

Silence settled awkwardly between them before Ronan finally rubbed his forehead.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he muttered.

"I should not have said that."

Anastasia stared at him quietly before nodding slowly.

Maybe it was frustration.

Maybe stress.

People had bad moments.

"Good evening."

Both of them looked up to see a waiter standing beside the table with a small notepad.

"What would you like to order?"

"Coffee," Ronan answered immediately.

Anastasia glanced briefly at him before smiling lightly at the waiter.

"Coffee for me too."

The waiter nodded and walked away.

Truthfully, whenever they went out together, Anastasia usually paid for most things. And when Ronan insisted on paying, she intentionally ordered something cheap so he would not feel uncomfortable.

She knew how difficult unemployment had been for him.

Soon, the coffee arrived.

Warm steam rose gently from the cups while silence settled once again between them.

Anastasia carefully took a sip, trying to ease the tension building inside her chest.

"So... how was your day?" she asked softly.

Ronan let out a short laugh.

"My day went well."

Something about his body language felt

Bold.

Or rather..."Proud"

Anastasia tried to ignore it.

"Oh... does that mean Mr Artemis accepted your proposal?" she asked with genuine excitement.

Her eyes brightened immediately.

"Oh...He should finally give you the contract. It'staking longer time" she smiled.

"Actually..." Ronan leaned back slowly.

"He did."

Anastasia's face lit up instantly.

"And I will be moving to Canada soon."

The smile disappeared from her face immediately.

"What?"

Ronan remained calm.

"You got a job that requires you to move to Canada and you are only telling me now?" she asked in disbelief.

"You are leaving immediately and you are saying it this casually?"

Ronan exhaled heavily.

"What exactly did you expect me to do, Anastasia?" he asked, irritation slipping into his voice again.

"Reject the opportunity after months of unemployment until I informed you first?"

Anastasia swallowed hard.

Again, that unfamiliar tone.

That coldness.

It genuinely felt like she was sitting across from another person entirely.

"I did not say that..."

"I knew this would happen," Ronan interrupted.

"Which is exactly why I asked to meet tonight."

For the first time that evening, fear quietly settled inside Anastasia's chest.

Ronan looked directly at her.

"Now that I have this opportunity in Canada, I think it is best we go our separate ways."

The words landed heavily on her chest.

Painfully.

"What?"

"This relationship will not work. You are here in California and I will be in Canada."

He said it so casually.

Like their relationship meant nothing.

Anastasia stared at him speechlessly.

"So this dinner..." she said slowly while staring at the untouched coffee before her, "was simply to break up with me?"

Ronan sighed.

"Anastasia, you are a good woman. Honestly, too Perfect."

She hated those words immediately.

"The way you stayed beside me during my unemployment... the way you supported me financially whenever we went out..."

He shook his head slowly.

"It is commendable."

Anastasia looked at him in confusion.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

Ronan finally met her eyes fully.

"I am saying I cannot continue this relationship."

His expression remained emotionless.

"I am breaking up with you, Anastasia."

Her chest tightened painfully.

"After everything?" she whispered.

"After standing beside you through all your struggles? After praying every night for things to finally work out for you?"

Ronan suddenly stood up from his chair.

And whatever emotions Anastasia still had for him vanished with his next words.

"That is exactly the problem," he said coldly.

"One day, when I become successful, you will start claiming you built us from nothing. You will say you picked me from the gutters and made me who I am."

Anastasia stared at him in shock.

"I promised myself that would never happen to me."

He reached into his pocket, dropped some money carelessly onto the table, and grabbed his jacket.

"You can keep the change."

Then he walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving Anastasia frozen in her seat.

She watched his figure disappear into the crowd while her chest burned painfully.

Maybe she should never have tried love.

Maybe loneliness was safer after all.

Her father had spent years proving to her that men eventually disappointed women.

She should have learned from that experience.

But instead, she had chosen hope.

And now, hope had broken her heart far more painfully than loneliness ever could.