I read the post three times. You didn't have to be a genius to know it was aimed at me.

Even though I’d already guessed the real reason for Sterling's absence, Blair Vance's post still landed like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs.

Sterling and I had grown up together, inseparable as children.

When I was just a little girl, I vowed I would marry him when I grew up.

That declaration had delighted both our parents.

And Sterling had always been good to me.

Until we were adults.

Then he brought another woman home—Blair Vance. Watching them, so intimate and lost in their own world, I finally understood that whatever Sterling felt for me, it wasn't love.

The realization was terrifying.

A few years ago, I'd jokingly suggested we get married.

Our parents were ecstatic, but Sterling—he flatly refused.

Over the next few years, I must have proposed a dozen times.

He only agreed seven times—and stood me up all seven. And each time, like clockwork, Blair would post something cryptic on social media.

Just then, my phone vibrated again.

I thought it might be Blair and my thumb instinctively moved to decline, but I saw the caller was my friend, Chloe Jenkins.

She was inviting me to an exclusive party that night.

Without thinking, I asked, "Is Sterling going to be there?"

"Don't worry, Scarlett. I know what's going on with you two, so I already gave him a heads-up. He'll be there!" she said cheerfully.

"Then I'm out," I said flatly. "If he's going, I won't be. Maybe some other time."

Dead silence crackled on the other end of the line. Chloe was stunned.

Everyone in our circle knew I'd been chasing Sterling for years.

I shamelessly sent him gifts, managed his social calendar, and spent my days tidying his penthouse and preparing his meals.

Once, at a friend's birthday party, someone remarked how lucky he was to have me.

Sterling had just scoffed. "She's suffocating. Who cares what she does?"

Back then, it hadn't bothered me. I thought one day, he would see my worth.

Now, it did.

After hanging up, I sent a group text to our mutual friends. "From now on, if Sterling is going to be there, please don't invite me."

Then, I hailed a cab and went back to my own apartment.

After a shower, I began gathering Sterling's things. I methodically packed his Armani suits, his collection of Patek Philippe watches, his car keys—everything—into a large suitcase and called a courier to have it sent to his penthouse.

My best friend, Chloe Jenkins, showed up around the same time as the courier, having clearly heard the news.

When she saw the packed suitcase, she blurted out, "Scarlett, are you leaving?"

I smiled and opened the suitcase for her to see. "What are you talking about? This is all Sterling's stuff. I'm sending it back."

Chloe froze. After the courier left with the suitcase, she stared at me in disbelief. "Weren't you and Sterling supposed to get married today? What happened? I thought you two were…" She trailed off as the realization dawned.

She knew about all the other times. She was shaking with anger. "He stood you up again? That bastard. No wonder you sent that group text. I bet that bitch Blair is behind this. Come on. We're going to find her and give her a piece of our minds."

Despite my protests, Chloe dragged me to a members-only club.

Just as we reached the entrance to the VIP lounge, Sterling's voice drifted out. "Oh, stop worrying. It's been years. Scarlett talks tough, but when has she ever actually left me? She's just throwing a tantrum."

"Once she's done with her little fit, she'll come crawling back with her tail between her legs. She always does."

Standing outside the door, I bit the inside of my cheek until the sharp, coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I'd given him everything, and to him, it was just a tantrum?

Seeing the tears welling in my eyes, Chloe squeezed my hand gently.

Just as she was about to push the door open, I stopped her.

In that moment, I never wanted to see Sterling's face again.

I grabbed Chloe's hand and turned to leave. We had just rounded the corner of the hallway when Sterling and Blair emerged from the lounge.

Blair's voice was the first I heard. "Sterling, you're drunk. Stop it. Scarlett would be heartbroken if she heard you."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Sterling shot back. "You're the one who told me to say yes and then stand her up. You're a wicked girl, Blair."

Hearing that, I couldn't hold back my tears any longer.

So, it had all been a game. I was a joke to them. No wonder there wasn't a hint of joy on Sterling's face when he'd agreed to marry me.

I'd been so blinded by a flicker of happiness that I'd completely missed the contempt in his eyes.

Blair leaned against him, tapping his chest playfully. "Oh, I'm the bad one? This was all you."

"I only did it to make you happy!"

They started kissing in the shadows of the terrace, completely lost in their own world.

Numbly, I let Chloe pull me away from the club.

The cool night air washed over me, but my heart felt like a block of ice in my chest.

"Scarlett, you're just too nice. That's why those two bastards have the guts to play you for a fool!" Chloe was still fuming.

I could only manage a weak smile, the taste of blood still lingering in my mouth. "It's over. From now on, I have nothing to do with Sterling Prescott."

After finally persuading Chloe to go home, I returned to my own apartment.

Just as I was almost home, the courier called.

He said he had arrived, but the recipient wasn't answering the phone.

Only then did I remember that Sterling never answered calls from unknown numbers. I told the courier to wait and hung up. Then, I dialed Sterling's number.

From the noise in the background, he was still at a club. Despite the loud music, I could hear the smugness in his voice. "Calling me so soon?"

"What happened to that fire you had when you walked out on me at City Hall?"

The old me would have swallowed my pride, apologized, and tried to placate him.

Now, I just said calmly, "I sent your things over. They're at your doorstep. Remember to grab them when you get home."

Sterling's tone grew even more smug. "What did you buy me this time, Scarlett? Trying to butter me up? I thought you told everyone you were done with me. What, already crawling back with your tail between your legs?"

I didn't answer. I just hung up.

Right before the line went dead, I heard him asking what gift I'd sent, saying he'd have to see if he liked it before deciding whether to forgive me.

A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips.

After all these years of chasing him like a fool, he probably thought I had no dignity left. It didn't matter. He would find out just how wrong he was.