Autumn Was When He Began to Wait

In the third year of being Lucas Hartwell's mistress, he asked me to serve Stella Renee, his first love who had just returned from abroad.

To earn money for my sister's treatment, I gritted my teeth and went.

Stella found me an eyesore and sent me into the room of some Italian businessman.

I called Lucas in tears, begging him to help. He told me to get lost.

That night, my sister died in the hospital.

Later, I was working as a painter in a small town when he showed up outside my studio, one arm in a cast, and just stood there. For three months.

From autumn into winter.

"I'm sorry. I'll spend the rest of my life making it right."

I never expected that the man who had once used me as a stand-in would spend the second half of his life atoning for it, inch by inch.

Until the moment I closed my eyes, he held my hand.

"Wendy, in the next life, let me be the one who loves you first."

Wendy's POV

The day Stella Renee came back, the whole New York elite lit up.

At the welcome dinner, she was the princess everyone fawned over. Draped in couture, smiling as she held Lucas's arm.

And me? I was Lucas's "kept woman" of three years. Like a creature that couldn't stand the light, I hid in the darkest corner of the banquet hall, knocking back glass after glass of ice water.

My stomach cramped violently. Cold sweat broke out all over me.

But I couldn't leave. Lucas hadn't said I could go, so I had to stay and wait - ready to be wallpaper, or a shield, for this golden couple at a moment's notice.

Midway through the evening, a message from Lucas appeared on my phone.

"Come to the terrace."

Four words. No room for argument.

I took a deep breath, set down my glass, and dragged my unsteady legs toward the terrace.

I pushed open the glass door. The night wind hit me, sharp and cold.

Lucas stood with his back to me. A half-burned cigarette rested between his fingers, its ember flickering red in the dark.

He heard my footsteps but didn't turn around. His voice was flat.

"Stella's heading to Milan for fashion week. She needs an assistant."

A sinking feeling settled in my chest.

"You know how it is - she just got back, and I'm not comfortable with her being alone."

He turned around. His gaze landed on me, cool and detached.

"Go with her. Take care of her for three months."

Take care of her?

That was a nice way to put it.

Stella Renee was Lucas's everything. His untouchable first love, a girl who'd been spoiled her entire life. And I was the thorn in her side, the woman she blamed for stealing her place.

Sending me to be her assistant was like throwing me to the wolves.

"I'm not going."

I clutched the hem of my dress.

Lucas seemed to have expected this. He flicked the ash off his cigarette, unhurried, his tone impossible to read.

"Wendy. Think carefully."

He paused, then stepped toward me - slow, deliberate - until his tall frame loomed over me completely.

"Lily's targeted medication is due for renewal next month, isn't it? Three hundred thousand a course. Self-pay, if I remember right."

My head snapped up. I stared at him.

Lily. My little sister. My only weakness.

Lucas knew it well. For Lily, I would give up anything - even the last scrap of dignity I had left.

"You're using Lily to threaten me?"

I kept my eyes on his.

"It's a deal."

He reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. His fingertips were ice-cold.

"You take good care of Stella. Make sure she comes home happy. I'll cover Lily's medication."

"And if I don't go?"

"Then stay here and figure out how much you can scrape together on your own."

He dropped his hand. The corner of his mouth curved into something cruel.

"Wendy, you're a smart girl. You know what to choose."

The night wind cut right through me.

I stared at the face I had loved for three years, and felt nothing but a deep, unfamiliar strangeness.

For that woman, he could push me out without blinking. He could use my little sister - the only person I had left - as a bargaining chip.

"Fine."

It took me a long time to answer.

"I'll go."

Lucas smiled. But his eyes held no warmth at all.

"Good girl."

He crushed out the cigarette, turned, and walked back toward the glittering lights of the party.

He left me alone in the dark.

I sank slowly to the ground, wrapped my arms around myself, and tried to stop shaking.

Wendy's POV

Deep autumn in Milan was the kind of cold that made you want to give up.

Stella stayed in a penthouse apartment Lucas had arranged. All floor-to-ceiling windows, the whole glittering city spread out below her.

I stayed in a storage room barely big enough for a single cot. No window.

Being her "assistant" meant a lot more than making coffee.

Three in the morning, and Stella wanted a specific dessert from a bakery on the south side of the city. I'd pull on my coat and fight the wind across half of Milan to get it.

On set, if her coffee wasn't hot enough, she'd pour it directly onto the back of my hand. Blisters would rise. I'd apologize and smile.

Even her laundry. I hand-washed her lingerie, dried it, pressed it. One wrinkle, and she'd tear into me in front of everyone.

"Wendy, why are you making that face?"

Stella lounged on the sofa, swirling a glass of red wine, looking at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on in that head of yours. You think Lucas sent you here because he trusts you?" She laughed. "Don't kid yourself."

She took a slow sip.

"He sent you here to be my punching bag. Someone has to be, and girls like you are made for it."

I kept my head down and quietly swept up the broken pieces on the floor.

The burn on my hand still throbbed. I didn't make a sound.

Three months. Just endure three months. As long as Lily gets her medicine, this is worth it.

But Stella's cruelty didn't stop there.

On the night of the fashion week closing gala, Stella made sure I was dressed as plainly as possible, bordering on frumpy, and positioned me one step behind her like a bag carrier.

In the middle of the party, a heavyset Italian businessman in an expensive suit sidled up with a drink, his eyes crawling over me.

"Miss Renee, and who is this?"

Stella smiled behind her hand.

"Oh, this is my assistant. She used to be Lucas's... personal companion." She tilted her head at him. "Interested, Mr. Rossi?"

The man's eyes lit up. He reached out to put his arm around my waist.

"A woman of Lucas Hartwell's? She must be something."

I stepped back and hit the champagne tower behind me.

The whole thing came down. Glass and champagne everywhere. A shard caught my leg.

Gasps. Laughter.

I sat on the floor, looked up at Stella.

She was smiling. Thrilled. Vicious.

"Oh, how clumsy." She pressed her fingertips to her lips in mock concern. "Mr. Rossi, it seems she's in no shape to be good company tonight. Perhaps she should go up to your room and make it up to you?"

In that moment, every drop of blood in my body went cold.

I clawed my way up off the floor, shoved past the man reaching down to help me, and ran out of the ballroom.

The cold air rushed into my collar, mixing with the sticky sweetness of spilled champagne. My stomach heaved.

Back at the apartment, my hands shaking, I called Lucas.

I wanted to tell him what Stella had done. I wanted to beg him to let me come home. Even if it meant giving up the money - even if it meant anything - I had to get out of this place.

The phone rang for a long time before he picked up.

"Lucas."

I was already crying.

"Make it quick. I'm in a meeting."

His voice was flat. Impatient.

"Stella, she tried to... she was going to send me to some man's room. Please, let me come home. Please."

A beat of silence. Then a short, dismissive laugh.

"Really, Wendy. Is this still your game?"

I froze.

"What?"

"Stella texted me. Said you got drunk at the gala, made a scene, and broke something expensive."

His voice was full of contempt.

"And now you're calling to make up stories about her? Can you not let your jealousy run your mouth for five minutes?"

"That's not what happened-"

"Enough."

His voice cracked like a whip.

"You made a mistake. Stay there and think about what you did. If Stella doesn't forgive you, you can figure out Lily's medication yourself."

The call ended.

I had no right to defend myself. Not in his world.

Whatever I suffered, it would always be because I was jealous.

Wendy's POV

That night, I spiked a fever.

I drifted in and out of consciousness. My phone kept ringing, relentless, like an alarm I couldn't silence.

I forced my eyes open. A number from a hospital back home was flashing on the screen. My heart seized.

"Hello-"

"Miss Staley! This is Dr. Morris, Lily's attending physician."

The voice on the other end was urgent and panicked.

"Something's happened to Lily!"

I was half-awake in an instant.

"What? What happened to Lily?"

"Sudden pulmonary failure combined with a severe rejection response. She's in resuscitation right now. It's critical. She needs emergency ECMO surgery and we have to get the imported medication started immediately."

"Save her. Whatever it costs, save her."

I rolled off the bed. My legs buckled. I grabbed the nightstand.

"The issue right now isn't just the cost. We need next-of-kin authorization to proceed with surgery. And the previous balance hasn't been settled. The pharmacy won't release the medication until it's cleared." His voice dropped. "Miss Staley, where are you? Can you come in?"

"I'm overseas-"

Tears were already streaming down my face.

"Doctor, please just start the treatment. I'll send the money right now. I'll find a way."

I hung up and called Lucas.

Once. No answer.

Twice. Declined.

Three times. Straight to voicemail.

I sent voice messages, typed messages, anything. I would have gotten down on my knees if it would have helped.

Lucas, please pick up.

Lily's crashing. They're trying to save her.

I won't cause trouble anymore, I swear, please just help her.

One call to the hospital. That's all I need. I'll do anything-

Nothing.

In desperation, I called Lucas's assistant, Derek.

It rang for what felt like forever. Finally, someone picked up.

"Derek! Where is he? It's an emergency. Someone's life is on the line!"

Derek sounded uncomfortable.

"Miss Staley, Mr. Hartwell is... unavailable right now."

"Where is he? Put him on the phone-"

"He's... he's with Miss Renee. They're looking at engagement rings. He said he's not to be disturbed."

Engagement rings.

Everything left my body at once.

Lily was fighting for her life. And he was picking out diamonds for the woman who had just tried to sell me to a stranger.

"Derek." My voice broke. "Just tell him - tell him Lily is dying. She's really dying. Please-"

There was a shuffle on the other end, then Stella's voice, sweet and airy.

"Who is it? Such a buzzkill."

"It's Miss Staley. She says her sister is... critical."

Stella let out a small laugh. It came through the phone perfectly.

"Again with this? She faked being drunk at the gala, and now she's using her sister to pull Lucas back? He can see right through her. Tell me she's not actually this desperate."

Then Lucas's voice. Cold and flat.

"Hang up. Tell her if she calls again, she's done. Not a single cent."

The world went quiet.

I was on the floor, my phone still pressed to my ear.

I didn't hate Stella. She was cruel, she was calculating - but she was what she was.

It was Lucas I hated.

For his coldness. For his blindness. For the fact that I'd spent three years loving him like he was worth it.

I wiped my face and checked my bank account.

Two thousand dollars. Everything I'd saved.

Not even close to what Lily needed.

Then I saw it. Stella's spare watch, sitting on the coffee table in the living room. A gift from Lucas. Worth tens of thousands, left there like pocket change.

In that moment, I wasn't thinking about right or wrong. I was thinking about Lily.

I grabbed the watch and walked out.

I sold it on the Milan black market. Got fifty thousand euros.

Wire transfer. Flight. Airport.

I moved through it all like a machine - no thoughts, no feelings, just motion.

Before I boarded, the hospital called again.

I stared at the number until it stopped ringing.

Was that the call that tells you it's over?

I refused to believe it.

Lily was waiting for me. She'd said she wanted me to take her to Disney World. She'd said she was going to paint a hundred pictures.

As the plane lifted off and the city shrank beneath me, I had one single thought:

Lucas. If anything happens to Lily-

I will make you regret this for the rest of your life.

Wendy's POV

The flight was over fourteen hours. It felt like a century.

I landed in New York in the middle of a downpour.

No umbrella. No luggage. I ran out of the airport and flagged down a cab straight to the hospital.

The hallway smelled like antiseptic. The cold went straight to the bone.

I sprinted to the ICU and found an empty bed. A nurse was unhooking a monitor.

"Where is she? Where's Lily?"

I grabbed her arm.

She flinched, then looked at me. Her eyes went soft and evasive.

"Miss Staley..."

"Where is Lily?"

I was shouting.

Dr. Morris stepped out of his office. He was holding a document. He looked at me and exhaled slowly.

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

Those five words fell like a hammer.

"When..."

I couldn't hear my own voice.

"Three hours ago."

He bowed his head.

"We did everything we could. If the medication had arrived even half a day earlier, there might have been a chance. But..."

But.

But the man who had promised to handle everything was on the other side of the world, picking out diamonds.

But the call that could have saved her life was hung up.

I didn't cry.

I didn't feel anything, actually. My body felt weightless - like one breath of wind could scatter me.

"She's in the morgue."

Dr. Morris handed me a small box.

"She was holding this until the very end. Wouldn't let go."

Inside was a cheap piece of candy in a crinkled wrapper, and a folded piece of paper.

I unfolded it.

Two figures in crayon. A girl with long hair holding hands with a shorter girl. A lopsided castle in the background.

Underneath, in unsteady handwriting:

"Wendy don't cry. I don't hurt anymore. Be happy, okay?"

A single tear hit the paper without warning.

I clutched that drawing in the middle of the hospital corridor and screamed.

My Lily. My little sister. The only person in this world I had left.

She was fourteen years old.

She never got to grow up. She never got to see what was outside.

And I killed her.

My stupidity killed her. My delusions about Lucas Hartwell killed her.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Lucas Hartwell.

The name blinked on the screen.

How fitting.

When Lily was alive, he disappeared. Now that she's gone, he decides to call.

I answered. Put the phone to my ear.

"Wendy! Who do you think you are?"

His voice was furious.

"Stella says you stole her watch and ran back? Get back here and apologize. Now."

"Lucas."

My voice was very calm.

"I took the watch. I'll pay you back."

"Pay me back? With what? Have you lost your mind? You think I won't cut Lily off completely-"

"It doesn't matter anymore."

I looked down at the tear-soaked drawing in my hands. A broken smile crossed my face.

"She's dead."

Silence on the other end.

A few seconds passed. Then his voice came back - frustrated, dismissive.

"Wendy, that's not funny. You're really going to stoop to this just for sympathy? I'm done with you."

Done with me.

He wanted to talk about disappointment?

"Believe it or don't."

I didn't want to give him another word.

"Lucas, we're finished. We're even."

I hung up. Pulled out my SIM card. Held it over the trash can.

Snap.

It wasn't just a SIM card I broke.

It was three years of crawling, and humiliating myself, and loving someone who never saw me at all.

Wendy's POV

It only took two days to handle everything.

I had Lily's ashes scattered in the river. She had always loved water. She used to say water was free - it could go anywhere it wanted.

Now she was finally free.

I went back to Lucas's house in New York - the gilded cage that had held me for three years.

His scent still hung in the air. Cedar and tobacco. Something I had once found intoxicating. Now it made my stomach turn.

I didn't take a single thing he'd given me.

The designer bags. The jewelry. The couture. All of it belonged to the "canary" he'd kept - none of it belonged to me.

I took Lily's things. And my sketchbooks.

Before I left, I set a bank card on the coffee table.

A thousand dollars I'd made selling paintings. Not even close to the value of Stella's watch. But it was the statement I needed to make.

I didn't owe him anything.

From this day forward, there was nothing between us.

I had barely walked out the front door when a black car came tearing up and screeched to a stop right in front of me.

Lucas got out. Dark expression, red in his eyes - he'd clearly just gotten off a plane.

He saw my suitcase. Something crossed his face. Then a hard, humorless laugh.

"What is this, Wendy? Running away from home?"

I stepped around him and kept walking.

He grabbed my wrist. Hard enough to feel like he'd snap the bone.

"I'm talking to you. You steal something, you walk out, and you think that's it? Who gave you permission?"

"Let go of me."

I looked at him.

"Give back the watch. Then come with me to apologize to Stella."

He was already pulling me toward the car.

"If you just admit you were wrong, I can let this go. Lily's medication-"

Crack.

The sound of a slap rang across the quiet street.

Lucas's head snapped to the side. He went completely still.

He turned back slowly. His eyes were dark and dangerous.

"You just hit me?"

"Lucas. I told you. Lily is dead."

I held his gaze. Each word separate and deliberate.

"Three days ago. While you were picking out that ring for Stella, she was dying in the ICU."

"When you hung up on my call for help, she was in agony."

"When you told me I was lying for attention - her body was already cold."

His pupils contracted. The color drained out of his face.

"What did you say?"

His voice shook. His hand fell open.

"That's not possible. Dr. Morris said she had more time."

"That was before!"

I pulled free and stepped back, putting distance between us.

"You killed her, Lucas. You are the reason she's gone."

The words landed like four blades, straight to the center of him.

He stumbled. White as paper.

"I didn't...Stella said you were pretending. She said..."

"And you believed her?"

I laughed and cried at the same time.

"Of course you did. She's your whole world. And what am I? Just a liar. A nobody."

I steadied my breath.

"I never hated you for loving her. I only hate myself for loving a man who was too blind to see what was right in front of him."

I picked up my suitcase.

"Don't come near me again. When I look at you, I feel sick."

I walked away. I didn't look back.

Behind me, I heard him move. Then his voice broke open in a way I'd never heard before.

"Wendy! Stop! Where are you going?"

I kept walking.

"I'm not letting you leave! Wendy, come back!"

A cab was coming down the street. I raised my hand. Got in.

In the rearview mirror, I watched the man who had always seemed so untouchable standing at the curb, abandoned and frantic, his phone pressed to his ear.

He'd never reach me.

The Wendy who had circled him like a satellite, quiet and desperate and small, had died in that rainy night, along with Lily.

What was left was just a shell. Hollow with grief and fury.

The cab merged into traffic. The city sparkled on, indifferent.

I closed my eyes. One last tear slipped free.

Goodbye, Lucas.

Goodbye to these three wasted years.