Chapter 134 You've got to quit
(Song recommedation: When the party's over by Billie Eilish)
June
I’m in one of the fitting rooms at SCC, the mirror reflecting a dozen dresses in various cuts and shades. The attendants move efficiently, placing each piece in front of me, following a silent script dictated by Natalya. My hands touch the fabric, but my mind is elsewhere—clouded with thoughts I can’t shake, regrets I can’t bury.
Regrets for not letting him slip away. Regrets for not stopping myself from caring, even when everything around me screams that I should. Hermes—my Hermes—isn’t just the CEO to me. And no matter how I try to act, no matter how much I tell myself to stay distant, I can’t let him go.
My memory drifts back to the cafeteria, to the moment when his eyes didn’t meet mine. I didn't look either, telling myself it was just business—Hermes, the CEO, sitting beside me. But from the corner of my eye, I caught him staring. Not at me directly, not at his fiancée but at me. His gaze was subtle but loud.
When I had called his name, unthinking, desperate, his eyes had widened—no, not at me, at me. It was as if he wanted to say, don’t come any closer.
Was it to protect me… or protect himself?
Was it concern? Fear? For me? For him?
The thought burns inside me: his gaze… felt like it was for my sake.
And then, the impossibly heavy thought strikes: what if this marriage to Natalya isn’t what he wants? What if he never agreed to it?
A soft voice cuts through the haze, pulling me back.
"What about this dress? It’s simple and elegant. Don’t you think?"
I blink, startled, and look at the attendant holding the fabric. I force a nod, my attention shifting to the mirror, the dress, anything but the relentless, aching pull of my thoughts.
But deep down, my heart isn’t here. It’s still with Hermes.
"Miss Alexander, we’re finally done selecting the dresses, the attendant said softly, snapping me out of my spiral. "Now… we just have to wait for the bride to come."
My heart thudded painfully in my chest. The bride. Her. The woman who would marry the man I loved. And there was nothing I could do about it. I wasn’t in their league—just an intern, a temporary secretary, a passing shadow in the empire they both ran.
My gaze drifted to the long white wedding gown displayed on the mannequin. The fabric shimmered under the lights, delicate crystals catching the reflection like frozen stars. I imagined myself in it. Smiling. Holding a bouquet of flowers. Walking down the aisle toward Hermes, the only man I’d ever wanted, waiting at the altar just for me. Not Natalya.
I shut my eyes, pressing my palms against them, forcing myself to dismiss the thought. Stupid. Wishful thinking. For a man who was never going to be mine.
And then… the irony of it hit me like a cold wave. The very room I was in—the same room where, by coincidence, Hermes had walked in the last time I was half-dressed—was now the setting for this cruel reality. Here I was again, picking the dress of his bride. And if he was even well enough, he might walk in to see Natalya in it. My chest tightened at the thought.
The attendant excused herself, stepping outside to take a call. I wandered to the mannequin, tracing the crystals on the gown absentmindedly, letting my fingers glide over the intricate patterns.
"Miss Alexander, uhm–"
I turned sharply, my eyes meeting hers. "What happened?"
She hesitated, glancing at her phone. "Miss Voss… she says she can’t make it for the fitting. She wants you to be the model for the dress."
I froze. My eyes widened. "What? Why? But… she’s a bit taller than me, even though we have similar shapes. This won’t… it won’t fit her properly."
The attendant shook her head gently. "That’s not a problem. We just need to make sure the length is adjusted for her. That’s all."
I exhaled slowly, the weight of the task pressing down on me. I was standing in the place of the woman who would marry the man I loved, and now it was my body they’d use to see her dress come to life. My chest ached.
And yet… I nodded. There was no one else to do it.
I stood in front of the mirror, fully dressed in the gown, my reflection staring back at me like a cruel reminder of everything I couldn’t have. The attendant beamed, her eyes bright.
"It looks beautiful on you," she said. "Though… the length won’t fit Miss Voss perfectly, so we might need to make a few adjustments."
I nodded faintly, smiling, but her words barely registered. My eyes were locked on myself in the mirror, tracing the contours of the dress, the shimmer of the crystals, the way the fabric flowed.
Then I heard footsteps at the door. My heart skipped. I turned slowly, and froze.
It's Hermes. He's standing there, slightly rough, disheveled even, and suddenly all my thoughts scattered.
My lips parted, wanting to say something, but no words came out.
"Mr. Grande, your fiancée requested—" the attendant started, pointing at me, "that Miss Alexander wears the gown in place of her."
But I barely heard her. All I could see was him. His gaze didn’t leave me once, like the rest of the world had vanished, leaving only the two of us in the room.
"Leave." His voice was low, slightly rough, and his eyes never wavered from mine.
I broke eye contact, staring at the attendant, who looked bewildered.
"It’s fine," I whispered. She nodded and quietly left.
I swallowed hard, dropping my gaze, trying to tell myself it was fine. He won’t yell. He can’t… can he?
Then I looked up—and froze. He was inches from me.
"Her… Mr. Grande—" My voice faltered as I tried to form the words.
"Look at you," he said softly, his voice breaking, tender. "Just… breathtaking."
He reached out, holding my hands, gazing at me with an intensity that stole my breath.
My eyes stung. This isn’t real. This is my imagination. I lifted my gaze, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.
Then he went down on his knees before me.
I froze.
"Hermes… what are you doing?" I whispered, cupping his face with my hands while he still held mine.
"Why am I letting you go?" His voice trembled, almost a mutter, a single tear sliding down his cheek.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears slipped freely down my cheeks, a knot forming in my throat as I looked down at him.
Why are his actions and his words always so different?
Right now, he was holding my hands, looking up at me as if I were everything to him. And yet… he was marrying another woman.
Why is he confusing me like this? I needed answers.
"Why, Hermes… Why’re you letting me go?" My lips trembled as the words escaped.
His face crumpled, brows furrowed, more tears sliding down his cheeks. I reached up, gently wiping them away, my fingers lingering on his face. His hands never left mine.
"I… I love you, June—" he whispered, biting his lip as though trying to hold back a flood of emotion.
My stomach twisted violently. He said it. He actually said it. This wasn’t an imagination. This was real.
"Hermes—" I began, but he cut me off, guiding my hand to his jaw, his voice breaking.
"But I can’t have you. I don’t deserve you. You’re so… so much better than me. You deserve someone better."
I shook my head frantically, tears flowing harder. "No. You don’t get to decide if I need someone else. You don’t."
He stood up fully, straightening his back, tilting his head slightly to look down at me, with a sad, almost apologetic smile, cupping my face and brushing away my tears. "I have to get married. You won’t understand why." His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "You’ll have to quit your internship, June."
My eyes widened. My internship?
He was telling me to quit the one thing that was mine. The one thing I had worked for. The one piece of my life that still belonged solely to me.