He drove to a five-star restaurant, where his friends were already waiting at the entrance. When they saw him, they couldn’t resist teasing.
“Derick, have you already tuck Skye in?"
"You're now planning for Miss Alanna’s birthday party, huh? You sure have the energy to spare.”
“Miss Snee is coming back soon. Better hide Skye before she finds out!”
“Derick, treating Skye like this—do you think Piers will let you off the hook?”
Derick’s expression darkened with irritation. “Enough. Stop wasting time and get to work. Skye’s been acting crazy, insisting on marriage. It took me forever to shut her down. Don’t let anything slip, got it?”
Skye's POV
"In just two days, Alanna will be back. Seven years of waiting are finally coming to an end—we can’t afford any mistakes now."
Laughter erupted among the group after Derick’s announcement.
“Marriage? Bro, when Miss Alanna left for abroad all those years ago, you were bawling like a kid at the airport, swearing you’d marry her as soon as she came back.”
“Yeah! Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the little one now.”
“Seriously, man, jokes are fine, but don’t mess around with marriage. If you do, you’ll have to grovel in Alanna’s ‘hell hath no fury’ zone.”
Derick smirked, unbothered. “Didn’t I already reject her? The only person I’ve ever wanted to marry is Alanna. She’s my dream.”
Hiding in the shadows, I felt tears blur my vision.
So, I had never been a part of Derick’s future—not from the very beginning.
I stumbled away from the scene, the cold night air hitting me like a slap in the face.
'Skye, if love isn’t yours to have, let it go,' I thought to myself in resignment.
Derick didn’t come home until the next morning but left warm Parisian pastries on the table, just like he always did.
When he saw me barefoot, he immediately rushed over and scooped me up, placing me on the couch.
“You never wear shoes. If your stomach cramps up during your period, don’t expect me to help,” he scolded lightly.
I laughed, tucking my feet under a cushion.
Derick knew my cycle like clockwork. Every time the pain made me pale, he’d hold me close, keeping my stomach warm.
But in two days, the person in his arms wouldn’t be me anymore.
When he held out a pastry to me, I shook my head.
No matter how sweet, love that doesn’t belong to you is just an illusion. Like pastries that taste overly sugary, they leave only bitterness behind.