Chapter 129 Ashamed
ANNA'S POV
I didn’t respond to what Ryan said immediately.
Instead, I lowered my gaze to the phone resting in my hands, staring at the screen for a brief moment as if it might suddenly disappear. My fingers hesitated, then I swiped up. There was no password. No lock.
The screen opened straight into a WhatsApp conversation.
Ryan and Tracey.
I felt my chest tighten for a second, and before I could stop myself, I lifted my head and glanced at both of them. Ryan stood quietly, his expression calm but expectant, while Tracey sat still, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Neither of them looked nervous. If anything, they looked… certain.
That alone unsettled me.
It was quite bold of him to hand me his phone so freely, knowing exactly what I’d see. Unless—
Unless he truly had nothing to hide.
I swallowed and forced myself to look back down at the screen.
I began to read.
Tracey: Ryan, good to hear from you again.
Ryan: I need a favor from you.
My brows furrowed immediately.
A favor?
My grip on the phone tightened. Why would he be asking his ex for a favor? Of all people?
I scrolled.
Tracey: Sure. How can we help you?
I paused.
We?
Why would she say we instead of I?
I frowned, my mind already racing, but I kept reading.
Ryan: I’m planning a surprise for someone. Someone I really care about. And I need you to bring the best rose flower bouquet you can find.
My breath hitched.
The words stared back at me, clear and unmistakable.
The anger that had been burning fiercely inside me only moments ago began to fade, slowly but surely, like a fire starved of oxygen.
A surprise?
Someone he really cared about?
I scrolled further, my heart pounding louder with every movement of my finger.
Tracey: I see you’ve managed to charm another lucky woman. I’m happy for you. Where should we deliver it to?
My lips parted slightly.
Another lucky woman.
I continued.
Ryan: The villa. I’ll send you the address and keys because I can’t leave. I don’t want it to look suspicious.
The phone felt heavier in my hands.
Slowly, I checked the date at the top of the conversation.
Over a week ago.
My breath caught in my throat.
That meant he had planned everything long before that day. Long before we showed up. Long before I stormed out, accusing him of things he never did.
I closed my eyes tightly and bit down on my lower lip, the sting barely registering as regret washed over me in full force.
I didn’t need to read anything else.
Everything suddenly made sense — the flowers, her presence at the villa, the keys. It all lined up so clearly now that it hurt.
Guilt crept in quietly at first, then flooded every part of me.
I felt ashamed.
Ashamed of my assumptions.
Ashamed of my accusations.
Ashamed of how quickly I had chosen anger over trust.
Ryan wasn’t betraying me.
He was planning something special for me.
And I had ruined it.
I had overreacted, escalated everything, shut him out without giving him even a second to explain himself. I had been so determined not to listen, so afraid of reliving my past pain, that I had hurt someone who genuinely cared.
I was the foolish one here.
Not Ryan.
Not Tracey.
Me.
By the time I opened my eyes again, they were filled with tears, blurring my vision. I blinked rapidly, but it was useless. The tears spilled over anyway, sliding down my cheeks as I stared at the phone one last time.
I slowly lifted my head and looked at Ryan.
He was watching me closely, concern etched into his features, but he didn’t interrupt. He waited.
I stood up, my legs feeling weak beneath me. My shoulders slumped as the weight of my actions pressed down hard.
What had I done?
I had disrespected him. Insulted him. Pushed him away, all because I was too stubborn to listen.
“Ryan…” I said softly, my voice calmer now, stripped of all the anger it once held.
I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes just yet. My gaze remained fixed somewhere between us, shame burning in my chest.
“Gosh,” I breathed, shaking my head slightly. “I feel so stupid.”
To my surprise, Ryan let out a small laugh not mocking, not bitter, but gentle. He stepped closer and lifted my chin carefully, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You’re not the first person to react that way,” he said warmly. “So it’s okay. I understand.”
That only made my chest ache more.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m really sorry for everything I said to you. I know I should have listened, but I was just… too stubborn.”
Ryan smiled softly.
“Like I said, I understand,” he replied. “And I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did after everything you went through in your past relationship.”
His words were gentle, reassuring, and they only deepened my remorse.
“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” I asked quietly.
He looked genuinely surprised.
“Forgive you?” he echoed. “I wasn’t angry at you in the first place. There’s nothing to forgive, Anna.”
A wide smile broke through my tears, and before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly. He hugged me back just as firmly, grounding me in that moment.
Then I pulled away slightly, a sudden thought crossing my mind.
“By the way,” I asked, wiping my cheeks, “what was the surprise for?”
Ryan chuckled lightly.
“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was going to ask you to officially be my girlfriend. My woman.”
The guilt surged again, stronger this time.
“Awnnn,” my mom cooed softly from the couch, drawing a small laugh from the room.
I hugged Ryan again, this time tighter, pressing my face against his chest.
“I’m sorry for ruining everything,” I whispered.
Just like that, I had almost destroyed something meaningful and beautiful because of my own fears.
I took a slow breath, steadying myself. I really needed to learn how to calm down, to listen before reacting, before saying or doing things I might regret.
“The flowers might not be here,” Ryan said gently, “and I planned to do it in a more grand way. But still… would you do me the honor of letting me into your life? Of allowing me to become your man? Of being my girlfriend — of being mine?”
A smile spread across my face instantly.
The old version of me would have pushed him away, said no, built walls. But each day, Ryan continued to prove that he was different, that he wasn’t like the others.
That he might actually be the one.
“Starting things slowly,” I said softly, meeting his eyes, “sure. I’ll be yours.”
Ryan didn’t hesitate. He leaned down and finally, openly, pressed his lips against mine, sealing the promise we had just made.