Too Late to Wanted Me Back

I turned to my campus friends, who had watched the whole scene with wide eyes. “Sorry, guys. I’m heading home. Enjoy your lunch.”

Gathering my things, I did not bother looking back at Lewis.

“Grace, wait!”Lewis’s voice thundered behind me, but I ignored it.

There was no point in staying. No point in arguing with a man who had already decided my worth.

As I returned to the Manor, I headed straight to my bedroom, ignoring the curious gazes of the staff.

The last time they had seen me was two years ago, pushing my suitcase out the door in defiance.

I could not accept being matched with a man I did not know, even if it was for the sake of the family business.

It had felt deeply unfair. Why couldn’t I choose my own partner?

If the goal was to advance the family’s status, I could have found someone suitable on my own terms, not under pressure.

At 18, I decided to leave. I wanted to prove I could live independently without their help.

For a while, it seemed like my parents respected my decision, especially since I was living with Tobias. Their concern for me seemed to fade.

But then, at 20, the pressure had returned with full force.

My parents had become more insistent, and Tobias, who once stayed neutral, had begun dropping hints about the man they wanted me to marry.

From what I knew, he was Tobias’ business partner and about his age. Still, the thought of marrying a stranger was unbearable, so I tried to avoid it at all costs.

I thought marrying Lewis would be my way out, my happy ending. But instead, it had brought me more pain than I ever imagined.

The pain was far worse than marrying someone I did not love.

I laid on my bed, tears streaming down my face, when I heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Can I come in, sweetheart?” my mother’s soft voice called.

Even though I resented her for siding with my father about the arranged marriage, she had always been my comfort zone.

So, I opened the door and stepped aside to let her in, quickly wiping my tears with a tissue.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

She sat beside me and wrapped me in a warm hug, gently patting my shoulder. “It should be me asking you that. What’s wrong, my love?”

For a moment, I felt like a child again, safe in her embrace. I stayed silent, unwilling to share the storm inside me.

Sensing my hesitation, she asked again, “Are you sad about having to marry someone who isn’t your choice?”

Her words brought fresh tears to my eyes. She hugged me tighter, her worry evident.

“Oh, my princess, I didn’t think this would hurt you so much. We waited for two years, hoping you’d accept it on your own terms. When we heard you finally agreed, I thought you were ready.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, Mom. I’m not crying because of that. It’s my college assignments, they’re so difficult.”

I forced a smile and added, “As for the marriage, I want it. I really want it. I trust you and Dad have chosen the best for me, right?”

Her face lit up with relief. “Of course! And if college is too much, you can take a break before the wedding. No one will blame you.”

“Thanks, Mom. But no. I’d feel weak if I gave up now. I need to face it and become stronger.”

“That’s my girl,” she said proudly, convinced my only problem was schoolwork.

To lift my spirits, she suggested, “How about we go shopping and try on dresses for the banquet tonight? It’s been forever since we had a girls’ day out.”

I forced another smile to please her. “Sure. It used to be our favorite thing. Let’s go.”

She insisted on driving her pink Porsche, claiming she missed being behind the wheel. She even joked about letting me drive her home later, just to relive old times.

We indulged ourselves at the shops, buying more than we needed, both her recommendations and items I picked for myself.

During the fitting, the designer raised her eyebrows at how much my size had changed. “It’s been two years, hasn’t it? Looks like I’ll have to adjust quite a few things.”

I laughed lightly. “Well, my chest grew bigger this time.”

Her comment set off laughter in the room, lightening the mood.

When we got back home, the stylists had already arrived to help us get ready. Tobias had also returned and was trying on his suit.

Seeing me, he grinned and teased, “Looks like someone’s back to being Graciela, the shopaholic.”

“Of course,” I shot back, smirking. “I got my AmEx back.”

Tobias lightly hit me on the head.

I turned to my mom, feigning indignation. “Mom, did you see what he just did?”

She just shook her head with a small smile. She was used to the bickering between Tobias and me, our playful rivalry as constant as ever.

After finishing getting ready, I decided I should say something to Lewis.

Since this banquet would mark the final night I considered him my boyfriend. After that night, we would be strangers.

I called him, but every time I dialed, he rejected the call.

After a while, a message appeared on my screen.

[Lewis: If you haven’t realized your mistake and aren’t genuinely ready to apologize to Katrina, then I don’t think there’s any reason for us to speak.]

I smiled bitterly. If that was how he saw me, I did not care anymore.

For a moment, I considered blocking his number, but I decided it was not worth the effort. Instead, I slipped my phone into my purse and left for the banquet.

The room buzzed with laughter, chatter, and clinking glasses.

Familiar faces filled the space, family friends, business associates, and their children.

Some of the younger guests were strangers to me, clearly there to be paraded as potential matches.

It was not just a banquet. It was a matchmaking spectacle.

Bored and suffocated, I stepped out onto the balcony, seeking refuge in the cool night air.

To distract myself, I opened my phone and scrolled through Instagram. But Lewis’s friend’s story caught my attention.

Against my better judgment, I watched it.

There they were, Lewis and Katrina. Still together.

Curiosity gnawed at me until I opened Katrina’s profile. My stomach churned as I saw her stories. It was all Lewis.

From the Lewis who was picking her up at the airport, then to Lewis who was at the welcoming party with her.

There was also Lewis who was accompanying her in the hospital. Then, the Lewis who was helping her after her supposed fall.

The final blow was a photo of them doing a love shot, followed by another of them kissing passionately.

I slammed my phone shut, my blood boiling.

At that moment, a waiter passed by with a tray of wine. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass and downed it in one go.

Still furious, I gestured to the waiter before he left. “Wait. I’ll take the whole tray. And please bring me more.”

He hesitated at first and his shock was evident, but then he nodded. “Of course, Miss.”

I finished the first tray in minutes, the wine barely dulling the ache in my chest.

“I’ll be happy,” I muttered to myself, my voice growing louder with each word. “After I get married, I’ll forget Lewis.”

I thought I was only thinking about it, but the words spilled out, my voice carrying into the night.

Before I could yell further, a man appeared, quickly covering my mouth.

“Don’t shout. You’ll become the center of attention,” he said, his tone firm.

I pushed his hand away, glaring at him. “It’s my life. You have no right to interfere.”

“Well,” he replied, his voice calm but teasing, “your life is my life too.”

I scoffed. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

Just then, the waiter returned with another tray of wine. Before I could grab a glass, the man stopped me.

“Take it back. This lady is already very drunk,” he instructed.

The waiter nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“How dare you snatch my wine!” I fumed. “If you want some, get your own.”

He shook his head, smirking as he tapped my forehead lightly. “You’re such a baddy.”

“I am not bad!” I snapped, the alcohol loosening my tongue. “If I were bad, I would’ve kissed you already.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

What shocked me even more was that he kissed me back.