She Traded My Three-Year Hard Work for His Ferrari

Nathan's POV

The distinctive car key was also on the table, glinting.

And the watch on Daniel’s wrist was the same one Cassandra told me last week she had “bought for an important client.”

Seeing that scene, I let out a bitter laugh, turned up my collar, and walked home in the pounding rain.

By the time she came back, I had just stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from my hair.

She froze for a second when she saw me. “Why do you look like a drowned rat?”

“I went to the hospital,” I said flatly.

Her expression stiffened at once. “Why’d you go to the hospital today?”

I chuckled softly. “I’ve told you more than once.”

Irritated, Cassandra ran a hand through her hair and snapped, “I’ve been busy, alright? I forgot. Anyway, your wound’s healed by now. Missing one check-up won’t kill you.”

I held her gaze and relayed what the doctor had said. “The doctor said if I don’t take care of it, it could relapse.”

That shut her up for a moment. But when she looked back up, there was a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “You’re not trying to use that scar to guilt-trip me again, are you?”

So that was what it was to her. My reminder wasn’t about my health. It was me playing for credit.

Seeing me just staring at her, her anger flared up. “Why are you giving me that dead look again? I was just unable to go with you! Is that worth sulking over?”

But my eyes flicked to her collar, and I emotionlessly said, “You didn’t wipe the cheese off your shirt.”

She instinctively reached for her neckline, but then froze mid-motion.

“You…”

I added slowly, “Also, Daniel’s watch looks good on him.”

Her face flushed dark red. She jabbed her finger at me, shaking with rage. “You were following me? Nathan, what’s wrong with you! So what if I had dinner with him? What’s the big deal? He’s out there alone, struggling, no family, no support. Don’t you think that’s pitiful? You really have to be this petty? What’s the point?”

I laughed, but it came out harshly. “Funny thing, I was at the hospital alone today, too. But I didn’t see you feeling sorry for me.”

Caught in a corner, she tried to reason, “How can you compare yourself to him? And don’t you dare say I never cared about you, 'cause I have! Just not the way you demand, okay?”

But before she could finish, her phone rang, and it was Daniel again.

Swiftly, she snatched it up and answered it.

“Cassandra, I think I caught a fever in the rain. My head’s spinning,” the man said in a weak voice.

Panicked, she immediately replied, “Stay home. I’ll be right there!”

Afterward, she quickly hung up and grabbed her bag without so much as a glance at me.

Only when she was at the door did she turn back and say, “Stay here and think about what you’ve done. Tomorrow you’re coming with me to pick out the flowers for the wedding party. And stop with these cheap tricks, like spying on me. It’s pathetic.”

Then she was gone.

Her words buzzed in my ears long after the door shut.

Pathetic.

She was right.

But why had it taken me so long to see?

It seemed my heart had been blind for years.

The next day, we drove to the florist, and the air inside the car felt suffocating.

So at a red light, I put on my headphones and turned my face toward the window.

Meanwhile, Cassandra pulled out a big powder puff, reapplying her makeup nonstop.

“Those apartments on the south side are pretty nice. It's a good location and the transportation is convenient,” she suddenly started and sneaked a glance at me, waiting for a response.

But I said nothing.

Thinking I might not have heard her, she cleared her throat and raised her voice. “They say it’s a new development, better environment. Lots of young couples love renting there. Why don’t we check it out?”

Still, I didn’t even open my eyes, just let out a low grunt through my nose.

This time, her brows furrowed tight, and her tone sharpened. “Nathan, I’m talking to you!”