The Love She Never Earned

Even after everything, Daphne and I were always headed for a bad ending.

Alana must've read my mind—she gave my hand a gentle pat. "I'm just teasing. At least we've still got time."

Funny thing? I had my boss, Mr. Cortez, to thank for Alana.

Right after the breakup, I was a wreck. Tried to keep it outta work, but honestly, I was running on fumes.

Mr. Cortez caught wind of it and was like, "You need a reset," then pushed to set me up. The guy's part mentor, part big bro—I couldn't say no.

Turned out, that someone was Alana. She was leading a project we were already teaming up on.

We didn't talk much at first, but her vibe? Chill. Solid. Like, just being near her made things feel less chaotic.

She later said I left a good impression too. So we rolled with it—grabbed dinner here and there.

With time, and more late nights at work, I saw it—she wasn't cold, just quiet. Soft, steady. Real.

Everything changed at this one social event. I overdid it on the drinks, my stomach flipped, and boom—gastritis hit hard.

Alana, slim as she was, somehow managed to drag me home. Made me honey lemon tea, handed me my meds like it was no big deal.

My throat tightened as I watched her move around the kitchen.

Stomach flares weren't new. Once, I had a raging fever. Daphne was out clubbing. I called nonstop. She finally picked up—once.

Told her I was sick. She snapped:

"Ethan, seriously? Blowing up my phone for this? You think me coming home's gonna magically fix you? Stop being so dramatic."

All I'd wanted was her voice. Just something to feel like I wasn't alone, busting my ass for us.

Alana turned, tea in hand, caught me staring.

She blinked, then smirked. "What? Starting to think I'm not so bad to have around?"

"Yeah. It's really nice."

Warmth hit my chest like a slow burn.

"Alana... would you ever consider being with me?"

Her face lit up red. She spun back, stirring the tea.

It took her a while, but then she whispered, "Okay."

We both wanted something solid. No rush for kids, just a quiet life together.

Everything clicked fast—we met each other's parents, picked a date, locked it in.

Wedding planning was chaos, but since we worked side by side, it flowed.

Today, we were checking out our future place. I wrapped up work early and swung by Alana's office.

She was lost in paperwork, sunlight hitting her face just right—nose, cheekbones glowing like some soft-focus filter. She looked peaceful. Gorgeous.

She glanced up and gave me that look. "Still drowning in this mess. Wait in the car, or we're gonna hit traffic."

She really thought of everything.

I pulled the car out and waited. That's when I spotted Daphne heading straight for me.

First thing outta her mouth? An accusation.

"Why haven't you been answering my calls?"