
My Last Wait at City Hall
Chapter 1
The seventh time Sterling Prescott left me waiting at Chicago City Hall was the last. I was done with him for good.
I blocked his number and deleted his social media.
Any charity dinner he was attending, I stayed away from.
When my architectural design firm decided to partner with his real estate group, I quit on the spot.
The plan was simple: a clean break.
For thirty years, I had given him everything.
I didn't want to live like that anymore.
I'd rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more night waiting in an empty penthouse that never felt like a home.
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1
I waited for Sterling Prescott at Chicago City Hall until the staff started closing up for the day.
I’d called him when I first arrived. He said he was stuck in an urgent video conference with investors from Dubai—a corporate emergency—and told me to wait.
I waited another two hours. When I tried calling again, it went straight to voicemail.
I clutched the marriage application so tightly my knuckles turned white, the paper growing damp and crumpled in my palm.
"Ma'am, we're about to close. Are you still planning to register today?" a clerk finally asked, her voice tinged with pity.
She had watched me sit there all day.
I snapped back to reality and managed a faint shake of my head. "Thank you. Not today."
As I walked out of City Hall, a few employees on their way home drifted past, their murmurs catching my ear. "I swear I've seen her before. She's always alone."
"You know... I think you're right. She's the one waiting for that guy who never shows."
I kept my expression blank, but shame coiled hot and tight in my stomach. I quickened my pace instinctively.
This was the seventh time. The seventh time I had come to City Hall to wait for Sterling.
Just as I stepped outside to hail a cab, he appeared, striding toward me with a perfectly calibrated apology already settling onto his features.
"Sorry, Scarlett. Something urgent came up with Dubai. I hope I'm not too late."
I scoffed. A corporate emergency. The same excuse as last time. And the time before.
And now, he was using it again.
I couldn't even summon the energy to call him out on it. I just shook my head. "You're late. They're closed."
Sterling glanced at the Patek Philippe on his wrist, his annoyance clear. "Damn it, do these people punch out the second the clock strikes five? Couldn't they have waited five more minutes?"
He stepped closer, his large, warm hand closing around my wrist. He pressed my palm flat against his hard, sculpted chest. "Traffic was a nightmare, baby. Feel this—I sprinted all the way here the second the meeting ended. I'm exhausted."
I stared at him, my expression unreadable as I fought back the tears stinging my eyes.
Who did he think he was fooling?
I could tell he hadn't run a single block.
I bit my lip, and for the first time, I challenged him. "If you really ran all the way here, why isn't there a single crease in your bespoke suit?"
He was immaculate. Not even his tie was crooked.
Sterling's expression froze. The practiced tenderness in his eyes hardened into anger. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm lying? Accusing me of not wanting to marry you?"
"I busted my ass to get here, and this is the thanks I get? I can't believe how unreasonable you're being, Scarlett!"
He effortlessly twisted it back onto me.
The whole act was just making him look ridiculous.
I rubbed my temples, suddenly drained of the will to argue. "You know whether it's true or not, Sterling."
With that, I turned to leave.
His cold voice bit at my heels. "Fine. I know exactly what I'm about. So don't you come crawling back to me again. Stop pestering me, stop begging me to marry you!"
This time, I didn't look back. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood.
I had only taken a few steps when my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram notification from a close friend: "Some people just don't know when to quit. So pathetic. But hey, maybe the eighth time's the charm?"
The photo showed two clinking champagne glasses. In the background, Sterling was with Blair Vance.
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