I Fell in Love with a Millionaire Who Almost Ran Me Over – Story of the Day

I was on my way to an interview when a rich man in a sleek car almost ran me over. I thought he was just another arrogant guy from the elite class. But I realized I was wrong when he stepped out of his car and offered to help. I'm Lia, and this is my love story.

The sun shone bright that morning, painting the city in a golden hue. I clutched my coffee cup a little too tightly, my other hand smoothing down my resume for what felt like the hundredth time.

Today's interview was crucial. I needed this job. Not just for me but to keep up with Dad's medical bills and our mounting rent.

As I took a nervous sip of my latte, my mind raced with practice answers. That's when it happened.

A sleek, white car screeched to a halt right in front of me, barely a breath away. My heart leaped into my throat, and the latte? It painted my white blouse in creamy streaks.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, dumb chick!" The driver, a guy in a suit that screamed money, leaned out the window. His Bvlgari sunglasses probably cost more than my entire wardrobe…

"Dumb chick??" I gasped.

I couldn't believe it. This rich guy almost runs me over and then blames me? The injustice of it all and the frustration of the week bubbled over.

"Excuse me?" I snapped back. "You almost hit me! Are you blind or something, man?"

He just waved a dismissive hand. "Move it. I'm late. Out of my way!"

That did it. In a fit of rage I've never known, I flung the remains of my latte at his windshield. It felt like hurling every rejection, every failed interview back at the world.

"There! Now you have a real reason to be late! You almost hit me, and on top of that, you have the nerve to yell at me like that?"

He peeked from his car in a flash, his face etched with disbelief and anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"

My heart pounded in my chest, but I stood my ground, glaring at him. "Giving you a taste of your own medicine. You can't just bulldoze over people!"

He looked at me, really looked, his anger giving way to something else. But I was too fired up to care. This job interview was my last chance, and now this? I couldn't let him have the last word.

"Next time, maybe watch where you're driving, Mr. High-and-Mighty! Not like you own the roads or something," I barked.

And with that, I stomped my heel in front of his car, blouse ruined, heart racing, and job prospects looking dimmer than ever.

"I have an interview, you know!" I yelled at him. "How am I supposed to go looking like this?" I gestured to my coffee-stained blouse, the symbol of my ruined day.

He seemed impatient, constantly checking his watch. "Look, I'm late for work," he barked, his voice laced with urgency and frustration. But I didn't care.

This was his fault. What if he had knocked me down? What if I never woke up to see another day? My sick father... who would take care of him? This man... this rich entitled and arrogant stranger was about to kill not just me but also a father's hopes of living another day.

The sound of honking erupted behind us. A line of cars had formed, their drivers clearly annoyed. The guy muttered a curse, and then, to my surprise, he stepped out of his car and approached me.

"Look, get in. I'll get you a new shirt or something. Just quit wasting my time and get in the damn car."

I couldn't help but bitterly laugh. "Oh, now you're the knight in shining armor? No, thanks. I don't need your pity."

He stared daggers at me, furrowing his brows. "Do you want to make it to your interview or not? Stop making a scene and just get in the car."

There was an edge to his voice, but it was his words that struck me.

I hesitated, my desperation for the job clouding my judgment. I needed this job, like I said. "Fine," I snapped, my pride taking a backseat. "But this doesn't mean you're off the hook."

He rolled his eyes, gesturing impatiently towards his car. "Just get in. I'll fix this."

Reluctantly, I got into his car, my anger still simmering.

The leather seats, the musky scent of the interior, everything about his car screamed wealth and privilege. I couldn't help but feel out of place, starkly contrasting my current predicament.

There I was, sitting in the car of the man who nearly ran me over, heading to who-knows-where to get a new blouse. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. Life really had a twisted sense of humor.

Seated in the back of his car, I couldn't help but study him through the rearview mirror. There was a certain arrogance about him, the kind that seemed ingrained in every wealthy person I'd ever encountered.

His eyes, hidden behind those expensive sunglasses, were fixed on the road, indifferent to my scrutiny. I was no stranger to the recklessness of the rich. Memories flooded back of another incident months ago.

Another wealthy driver and another splash of dirty water from a speeding car ruined my outfit and chances at a different job interview. I remembered running after him, futilely, my anger as pointless as it was today.

But this guy, he was an enigma. Different. He had nearly hit me... called me names. Yet here he was, driving me to get a new shirt.

A part of me recognized that I might have been too quick to judge, that maybe it was my mistake for not being more cautious while crossing the road. But my pride wasn't ready to admit that, not yet.

I leaned forward, my curiosity getting the better of me. "So, Mr. High-and-Mighty, always in a hurry to somewhere important?"

He glanced at me briefly in the mirror. "Yes, actually. I have a business to run."

"Must be nice, having such big responsibilities," I said, my words laced with a bitterness I didn't try to hide.

He sighed, a hint of fatigue in his voice. "It's not always what it seems. Sometimes, it's more of a burden."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candidness. "A burden? Must be tough being rich and powerful."

He chuckled, a sound that was surprisingly genuine. "You'd be surprised. Money isn't everything. Now how about you shut your little mouth and let me focus on the road, huh?"

How rude! I settled back in my seat, his words swirling in my mind. Maybe there was more to this stranger than I had initially thought.

But that didn't change the fact that he was just another rich guy who thought he could bulldoze his way through life. Or so I told myself, trying to ignore the nagging doubt that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about him.

"How long is this going to take?" I frowned, glancing anxiously at the passing scenery. "I'm already late."

He rolled his eyes, a hint of impatience. "I'm not exactly jobless myself," he retorted, pressing the gas pedal hard. The car surged forward, my heart jumping into my throat, though I did not show my fear.

Soon, we pulled up outside a boutique so lavish it looked like it belonged in a movie. I hesitated at the entrance, awestruck. I had never been anywhere this fancy.

He didn't wait for me, and hurried inside, barking orders at the store staff.

"Quickly, the top five most expensive shirts you have," he pointed his finger at the sales assistant, who hurried away, nodding.

I stood there, mouth agape, feeling utterly out of place. The guy glanced back, noticing my hesitation.

"Come on, we don't have all day," he said, a bit softer this time, and gently pulled me towards the fitting room.

The sales assistant returned with an armful of blouses, each looking more exquisite than the last. I looked at the guy, hoping he would pick one for me, but he didn't even glance at them.

"Pick one, anyone you want, and hurry up," he told me, eyes glued to his phone.

I picked up the nearest blouse, the fabric feeling like liquid silk in my hands. "I don't need something this expensive," I said, a bit overwhelmed.

He looked up briefly, a trace of annoyance in his expression. "Just choose something. Try them all and pick the one you like. I don't have time for this. Hurry up, lady. Just go in there... and get dressed."

His words stung, but I bit back my retort and headed to the fitting room. As I closed the curtains behind me, I couldn't help but wonder about the stranger sitting outside.

He was so distant, so preoccupied with his own world. A world where time and money seemed to be everything, and yet, somehow, nothing at all.

What was this guy? I mean... what on earth was this guy? I wondered as I took off my coffee-stained blouse, only to gasp at seeing the price tag on the silky blouse I was going to try on.

I peeped out from behind the curtain, holding the silky blouse at arm's length. "You know, I don't need something this fancy," I told him, feeling out of my element. "An ordinary white blouse would do."

He didn't look up from his phone. "I don't shop with women. I don't know what 'ordinary' looks like. Just pick something. I'm getting late."

I frowned, the fabric of the blouse slipping through my fingers. "But this," I gestured to the price tag, "the cheapest one is $550!"

For a moment, he looked up, his eyes meeting mine. "I don't care about the price," he said, his voice firm. "It's not your concern. I'm the one paying for it. Just hurry up."

His indifference stung. I drew the curtain close with more force than necessary. My reflection stared back at me inside the fitting room, draped in a blouse worth more than half my wardrobe.

I couldn't help but feel small and insignificant in this world of luxury and excess.

As I struggled with the buttons, I couldn't shake off feeling entirely out of place.

Here I was, Lia, the girl who had to count every penny, standing in a dress that cost more than what I would make in a week. And there was this guy, who just didn't care about spending money like water.

His voice suddenly pierced through the curtain. "Are you done yet? We don't have all day."

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a retort. It wasn't just about the blouse anymore. It was about the disparity between our worlds — his was where money was thrown around without a second thought, and mine was where every dollar was a lifeline.

Buttoning up the blouse, I took a deep breath.

This wasn't just a piece of clothing; it was a reminder of the chasm that lay between us. A chasm that, no matter how fancy the dress, I couldn't bridge.

"Ouch, owww!" I couldn't help but yelp as I wrestled with the blouse while trying to take it off to try the next one.

It was like trying to squeeze into a straightjacket. The fabric pinched at my skin, trapping my arms in an awkward tangle.

From outside, his voice, laced with frustration, called out. "What's going on in there now?"

I gritted my teeth, struggling to free myself. "I'm stuck, okay? This shirt is a death trap!"

I heard him sigh heavily, and then the curtain whipped open. He stood, frowning, his eyes scanning the empty boutique for assistance. "Can't you do anything right?" he muttered under his breath.

Before I could snap back, he stepped in, his hands reaching out to help. "Hold still," he instructed, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the blouse.

As he worked, his glasses slipped down his nose, and for the first time, I saw his eyes, unshielded. There was a softness there that caught me off guard, a stark contrast to the harsh businessman facade.

He paused, his hands still on the fabric, our eyes locked in an unexpected moment of vulnerability. "You have... really beautiful eyes," he said, almost in a whisper.

I was taken aback, my anger subsiding for a brief second. "Excuse me...?!" I managed to say, my voice softer than I intended. No one has complimented my eyes before. This, what he said, felt strange... and nice.

His gaze lingered, and in that brief moment, something shifted. The air around us changed, filled with a new, uncertain tension. I could still see the warmth in his eyes, and that uncharacteristic smile lingering on his lips.

"Why are you smiling like that?" I couldn't help but ask.

His smile grew a touch wider, and there was a hint of something genuine in it. "Nothing," he replied, his tone surprisingly gentle. "It's just... you have really beautiful eyes."

That compliment, coming from him for the second time, was the last thing I expected. I felt my cheeks warm up, a strange shyness taking over. "Uh, thanks," I stammered out.

His hand rested casually against the door frame.

"I'm Edward, by the way. I realized I never introduced myself. And I'm sorry for earlier... for being so rude… you know…"

"Nice to... sort of meet you, Edward," I said, looking into his eyes. "I'm Lia."

He looked more relaxed now, his gaze softening. "It's been a tough week. My boss is... a lot to handle. Let's just say that he's a crazy old man with expectations of a king! That's no excuse for my behavior, though."

"Everyone has their bad days," I replied, a bit more understandingly.

There was a brief pause, and I could tell he was contemplating something. "And you? Rushing to an interview this morning?"

"Yeah," I admitted, fiddling with the hem of the blouse I was holding. "I've been job hunting for months. It's not been easy."

The concern in Edward's eyes was evident. "I'm sorry to hear that. The job market can be brutal."

We both fell silent for a moment, the air filled with a newfound mutual understanding. It struck me then that Edward, with all his wealth, had his own battles. And here I was, Lia, grappling with my own in a completely different arena.

Hidden behind the curtain, in a boutique far beyond my means, I saw Edward in a different light.

He wasn't just a rich guy in a fancy car. There was more to him, and I found myself unexpectedly intrigued.

Edward's understanding gaze made me feel exposed, revealing more of my struggles than I had intended.

"Could you, um, turn around for a second?" I asked, feeling the need to change out of the blouse. It was a strange request, but he complied without a word, a sheepish 'sorry' escaping him.

As he faced away, I noticed him picking up a blue blouse. "Here, try this one," he suggested, handing it over without looking back. "I think blue would really complement your eyes."

That compliment, casual yet sincere, sent an unexpected thrill through me. I accepted the blouse with a shy nod, feeling a smile spread across my face.

As I told him his choice was indeed lovely, our eyes met, and for a few seconds, there was a silent exchange, something unspoken passing between us.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He pulled it out, a frown forming as he saw the caller ID. "It's my boss," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I need to go."

"Go. I'll figure this out and call an Uber," I replied, nudging him softly.

He paused as he headed to the register, looking back at me. "Don't worry about the bill. And I hope I see you again... somewhere."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Yeah, hopefully not on the road next time," I replied, the irony of our meeting not lost on me.

Edward chuckled, and then, with a final wave, he was gone, leaving behind a strange sense of longing in me.

As I stood in the middle of the trial room, wearing a blouse that was a far cry from my usual attire, I felt a mix of emotions. There was relief, curiosity, and something else — a faint flutter in my heart that I couldn't quite name.

Edward, the man who had nearly run me over, had unexpectedly opened the door to something new, something captivating. As he left the boutique, his words echoed in my mind, leaving me with a sense of anticipation for what might lie ahead.

In the solitude of the fitting room, I slipped into the blue blouse Edward had chosen for me. Looking at my reflection, I couldn't help but admit he was right — the color really did highlight my eyes.

As I adjusted the blouse, I found myself thinking about him, his honest smile, the unexpected softness in his words, his charm.

Why did I want to see him again? It was crazy — I barely knew him.

Shaking my head at the absurdity of it all, I stepped out of the boutique. The city was bustling around me, making the idea of ever crossing paths with Edward again seem like a far-fetched daydream.

I hailed a cab, my mind still replaying our encounter. It dropped me off outside the multiplex complex where my interview was. Rushing inside, I mentally prepared my apology for being late.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, rehearsing my lines. But as I approached the interviewer's room, my words froze in my throat.

There, in the middle of a heated argument, was Edward. His boss was berating him, calling him a 'failure' to the business. I stood there, dumbfounded, my heart racing.

What were the odds? What was Edward, the stranger I met a while ago, doing here?

Edward's eyes met mine, and for a split second, there was a flicker of surprise, maybe even relief, before his expression hardened again under his boss's glare.

Edward's expression mirrored my shock, a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Edward? What are you doing here?" I blurted out, the situation appearing almost surreal.

Edward opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Hudson, his boss, cut in sharply, "Cut it. What the hell is going on here?"

I squared my shoulders, facing Mr. Hudson. "I'm Lia. I'm here for the event planner interview."

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at his watch with evident irritation.

"That position? You're too late. It's closed. You've already lost your chance by not being punctual. If you can't manage an interview, how are you supposed to handle a job?"

Mr. Hudson's words hit me like a physical blow, and my heart raced with fear and frustration. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, Edward stepped in.

"Mr. Hudson," Edward interjected, his voice steady, "she was late because of me. I almost hit her with my car this morning. It's my fault."

Mr. Hudson's gaze shifted between us, his frustration growing. "Are you telling me this entire debacle was because of your carelessness, Edward?"

Edward met his gaze unflinchingly. "Yes. I take full responsibility."

Mr. Hudson's glare at Edward was sharp enough to cut glass. "Pathetic loser!" he spat. "Not only are you late, but you're also jeopardizing our company's reputation with your reckless driving!"

I watched, frozen, as Edward took the verbal blows. His jaw was set, his eyes unwavering. It was clear that Mr. Hudson was more than just difficult. He was downright cruel.

"You're a liability, Edward!" Mr. Hudson continued, his voice rising with each syllable. "How can I justify keeping you in the company if you can't handle a single task properly? Do you know how hard I worked to keep this family business soaring for decades? Damn! You were about to ruin years of hard-earned name in a wink."

Then, his scornful gaze turned to me. He looked me up and down, his lip curling.

"And you," he sneered, "what are you doing here, dressed in such a fine blouse but those cheap shoes? Trying to play a part you clearly don't fit?"

I felt my cheeks burn with humiliation and anger. "Mr. Hudson, I—"

Before I could defend myself, Edward stepped in front of me, his body tense and jaws clenched.

"Don't you dare speak to her like that," he said, his voice low but fierce.

Mr. Hudson looked taken aback, his mouth opening and closing, momentarily at a loss for words. I had never seen anyone stand up for me like this, let alone a stranger I had met just an hour ago.

Edward's eyes were ablaze with a fire I hadn't seen before. "She's late because of me. Your issue is with me, not her."

The room was thick with tension, the air charged with heated exchanges. Mr. Hudson finally composed himself, his expression one of disbelief and anger.

"You're defending her? Some girl from the streets you barely know?"

Edward's stance didn't waver.

"Yes, I am. Because unlike you, I believe in treating people with respect, regardless of how well I know them...

"And for your kind information, she's not from the streets. She's just another hardworking person with skills but no one to recognize that. I was mad at her for almost falling in front of my car… called her names. But that doesn't make me cheap or disrespectful."

I was speechless, watching the drama unfold.

In that heated moment, I saw a side of Edward I never expected — a man of integrity and courage, standing up for what he believed was right.

Mr. Hudson's fury was like a storm, his face reddening as he stood up abruptly. "This is my company! I'll talk however I damn want!" he bellowed at Edward. "And you! How dare you speak to me like that?"

I couldn't help but smile slightly, looking at Edward with newfound respect. "Now I see why you said your boss is unbearable," I murmured, half to myself.

Mr. Hudson's mouth hung open in shock, his eyes flicking between Edward and me. There was a stunned silence before Edward's lips curved into a small, wry smile.

He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I might have forgotten to mention... Mr. Hudson here is not just my boss. He's also my father."

"Y-your father??" I stammered.

I was speechless the next second, and my eyes widened in shock. The dynamic between them suddenly made a lot more sense, but it was still a lot to take in.

Without another word, Edward gently took my arm and led me out of the office. Behind us, Mr. Hudson's voice echoed down the hallway.

"Come back here! You owe me an apology!"

But we didn't stop. We kept walking until we found ourselves in a nearby park, the city noise fading into a gentle hum.

As we walked side by side, I turned to Edward. "I can't believe you just walked out on your father like that. I mean... why did you do it? You took a stand for me. Why?"

Edward looked at the ground, a mix of emotions playing across his face before he stared into my eyes. "Sometimes, you must stand up for what's right, even if it means going against your family."

I nodded, understanding more about him at that moment than I had in the entire time we'd known each other.

He was more than just a rich guy with a fancy car and expensive clothes. He was someone who cared deeply and who fought for others, even at his own expense.

Walking there, with the autumn leaves swirling around us, I realized that Edward was a man of many shades, and I was just beginning to uncover them.

As we walked through the park, the crunch of autumn leaves under our feet, I couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you worried your father might cut you out of the business for standing up to him like that?"

Edward shook his head, a wistful smile on his face. "No, that won't happen. I'm his only son, the sole heir to the Hudson empire. He needs me, whether he admits it or not."

His confidence was reassuring, but I wanted to know more about him, about the person behind the heir. "What about your mother?" I ventured cautiously.

A shadow passed over Edward's face, and I immediately regretted bringing it up. "She... she passed away when I was five. Cancer," he said softly, his voice laced with pain.

I felt a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry, Edward. That must've been hard."

He nodded, looking off into the distance. "It changed everything. I was sent to boarding school... grew up away from my home, and my family. My father, he... he never really showed me any affection. It was always about the business, even when I joined him at work."

Listening to him, I saw a new side of Edward, one that was hidden beneath the surface of wealth and confidence. "You never had time for yourself? For... personal stuff?" I asked, thinking about how different our lives were.

He let out a dry laugh. "Personal life? I was too busy trying to meet my father's expectations. I never even had time for a real date!"

I looked at him, this man who had everything in the world but had missed out on so much. "You deserve better, Edward. You deserve to be happy, to live a life that's not dictated by someone else's standards."

He looked at me, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "I guess we both have our battles, don't we, Lia?"

As we continued our walk, the distance between our worlds seemed to shrink, replaced by a mutual understanding and a connection that was growing stronger with each step.

Holding Edward's gaze, I found the courage to share my own story.

"We're in the same boat, Edward," I said, a tremble in my voice. "I lost my mother, too. She died during childbirth. It's just been me and my Dad ever since. And now, he's sick and requires constant care and medication."

Edward's expression softened with a deep understanding in his eyes. "That sounds incredibly tough, Lia."

I shrugged, a bitter-sweet smile on my lips. "Life's been a series of odd jobs for me. The longest I held was waitressing downtown, but I lost that job for giving leftovers to a homeless man and his dog."

A lump formed in my throat as I admitted, "I've been job-hunting ever since. Luck never really seems to be on my side."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing mine. "I admire your strength, Lia. It's not easy, what you're going through."

A gust of wind sent a flurry of maple leaves dancing around us as we walked. Edward stopped, his eyes locking with mine, a sense of wonder in his gaze.

"I've never met anyone like you," he murmured, his voice filled with a warmth I'd never heard before. "You're... amazing. And different."

My heart skipped a beat as he leaned closer, his intent clear in his eyes.

Just as our lips were about to meet, the shrill ring of my phone shattered the moment. Reluctantly, I fished it out of my pocket, the spell broken.

"I... I should take this," I stammered, stepping away from Edward, the magic of the moment dissolving into the crisp autumn air.

I moved to a quiet spot, my heart still racing, but not just from the kiss that almost happened.

The voice on the other end was brisk and official. "Is this Lia? We're pleased to inform you that you've been selected for the event planner position at Hudson Corp."

My mind whirled. I ended the call and hurried back to Edward, a mixture of excitement and confusion bubbling inside me. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him.

"I got the job, Edward! At your company!" I exclaimed.

His smile was wide as he hugged me back. "Congratulations, Lia. You deserve it."

But as the initial joy ebbed, a niggling doubt crept in. "Wait, how? Your father was furious with me this morning."

Edward's smile turned sheepish. "Well, my Dad might be the boss, but I have my connections. I... I sent a text to someone in the office to hire you."

His confession hit me like a bucket of cold water. My smile vanished, replaced by a growing sense of anger and humiliation.

"You did what?" I stepped back, my voice rising. "Why would you do that? I don't want your pity job, Edward."

He looked taken aback, his smile faltering. "I thought I was helping. I saw how much you needed the job."

I shook my head, my anger boiling over. "I wanted to earn it, Edward! Not get it because you felt sorry for me."

He reached out, but I stepped back, putting distance between us. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to..." he nervously added.

"To what? Save the poor, desperate girl you met on the road?" I snapped, the words tasting bitter. "I may be struggling, but I'm not a charity case, Edward."

The hurt in his eyes was evident, but I was too angry to care. I turned on my heel, leaving him with a mix of confusion and regret on his face. As I walked away, the weight of what I'd lost and what I'd refused settled heavily on my shoulders.

I knew I had broken more than Edward's heart that day. But I was too broken myself to care.

Edward's voice was soft, filled with an emotion almost like pain. "I just couldn't stand the look of desperation in your eyes when you talked about needing a job, Lia. I wanted to help."

His words, meant to comfort, only fueled my frustration.

"Help?" I shot back, the anger in my voice unmistakable. "I don't need your sympathy, Edward. I've been on this job hunt for months. I needed to earn this, not have it handed to me because you feel sorry... because you heard my sob story."

Edward reached out, his hand gently grasping mine, a plea in his eyes.

"Lia, please, just listen—"

But I was too furious and pulled my hand away. "Why do people like you always think we'll just accept any handouts thrown our way?" I asked, my voice rising with each word. "What made you think I'd be okay with this?"

I could see the confusion and hurt in Edward's eyes, but I couldn't stop. "You wanted to help? Or did you just want to ease your conscience by playing the generous rich guy?"

I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. "I thought you were different, Edward. But you're just like your father, using your wealth to control others. You told me money isn't everything. But you proved it wrong."

His face fell, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of vulnerability, of genuine hurt in his eyes. But my own pride and anger were too strong. "I trusted you," I added, the words heavy with disappointment.

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Edward with a mix of heartbreak and disbelief on his face.

As I left the park, the weight of our encounter hung heavily on me. I had stood up for myself and my principles, but at what cost? I had pushed away someone who, despite his mistakes, might have genuinely cared about me.

A week had slipped by, each day heavy with thoughts of Edward. I was angry with him, yes, but more with myself.

Why couldn't I shake off the memory of our encounter? I scolded myself for pushing him away, wondering if I had been too harsh.

After another disheartening interview, I found myself wandering outside a café, craving the comfort of a hot coffee. As I stood in line, a voice I knew all too well broke through the hum of the café.

"Lia?"

I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. There he was — Edward, looking as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"What... How did you find me here?" I stammered, my mind racing.

He hesitated, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. "I've been looking for you. I couldn't find you at your place. I... I even got your address from your resume. Tried calling you. But couldn't get you on the line."

I blinked, taken aback. "I wasn't home. I took my Dad to my aunt's... the doctors suggested a warmer place for him."

Edward's face softened with understanding. "I see. I've been here, waiting, hoping to run into you someday."

His words struck a chord in me, revealing the depth of his concern. "You've been waiting here for me?" I asked, disbelief coloring my voice.

He nodded, looking slightly sheepish. "For the past two hours. Every day this week, to be honest."

A wave of emotion washed over me — guilt, surprise, and something else I couldn't quite place. "But your job, Edward, and your father... won't he be angry you're late?"

Edward shrugged, a weary smile on his face. "Maybe. But some things are more important. I needed to see you, to talk..."

We moved to a quiet corner outside the noisy café, the world around us fading into a blur. "I've been thinking about everything," I started, my voice trembling slightly. "About how I reacted, about you. I was harsh, Edward. I... I'm sorry."

He stared into my eyes, his hand tentatively cupping mine. "No, Lia. You were right. I overstepped. I should have respected your independence."

I looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine regret there. "But I shouldn't have accused you of being like your father. You're nothing like him, Edward. I see that now."

He squeezed my hand gently. "Lia, I've realized something this past week. I've been so caught up in my father's expectations in the business that I've lost sight of what I really want. What I want is..."

His voice trailed off, his gaze intense and full of unsaid words.

At that moment, outside that small café, the barriers between us seemed to crumble. We were just Lia and Edward — two people with their own struggles, finding comfort in each other's presence.

"I want to be there for you, Lia. Not because I think you need saving, but because I... I care about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart skipped a beat at his words. The realization that I cared about him, too, hit me like a wave. Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to navigate this together.

As we walked, Edward's expression turned serious. He stopped, turning to face me with a look that spoke volumes. "Lia, after talking with my father, I've decided to quit my job."

I froze, stunned. "Quit your job? But why?"

He looked into my eyes, his resolve clear. "I don't want to be like him, Lia. I don't want my life to be controlled by someone else's ambitions."

Guilt washed over me. "Edward, this is my fault. I shouldn't have said what I did."

He shook his head, a gentle smile on his lips. "No, it's not your fault. It's something I needed to do for myself. And now, I have a question for you."

His question hung in the air, tinged with anticipation. "Would you be willing to join me, not just in work but in life?"

My heart skipped a beat. Was he...?

"I've saved enough to start a small event planning company," he continued, his eyes shining with hope and nervousness. "I'd be more than happy to have you with me, in every way."

I couldn't help but smile. His words ignited a flutter of excitement within me. "Are you proposing to me, Edward?" I asked him, my eyes glistening with tears.

He chuckled, his tension easing. "Well, consider it a commitment for a lifetime. I'd be more than pleased... and happy to work with my wife!"

I blushed at his words, the playfulness in his tone making the moment lighter yet filled with unspoken promises. "I might need some time to think about that," I teased, "how about we start with a coffee and a donut?"

Edward's smile broadened. "That sounds perfect."

He leaned forward, cupping my face gently. Our eyes locked, a silent conversation flowing between us. As his lips met mine, it felt like a seal on a new beginning, a promise of a future we would build together.

As we broke the kiss, standing there with our hopes and dreams intertwined, I realized that life had taken a turn I never expected.

And as we walked hand in hand, ready to face whatever lay ahead, I knew we could conquer anything together. At that moment, then and there, I realized that Edward was my heartbeat. He was, is, and will always be my sky, moon, stars, and beyond.

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I was trapped in a marriage to a monster and feared dying in his hands like his previous two wives. But one dinner changed everything. I finally got a chance to escape, but I had to place my trust in my husband's henchman. I'm Emma, and this is my story.

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