Spring Tidings Never Reach Me

My boyfriend told his friend in French that the twelve-carat diamond ring was for the woman he had never been able to forget.

As for me, he said hed keep me by his side with no real commitment.

But Shawn Foster didnt know I grew up in Paris, and French was my native language.

He knew even less that the girl he called from a modest family and unable to live without him was the daughter of the richest man in the worldand the mysterious designer Lune he had been desperately searching for.

Chapter 1

Wendy Wells POV

My name is Wendy Wells. That afternoon, while I was ironing a shirt for my boyfriend, Shawn Foster, I found a ring box.

The moment I opened it, my heart started pounding so fast it felt like I was having a heart attack.

A twelve-carat pear-cut diamond refracted a blinding fire under the fluorescent light.

We had been together for seven years. For the past two, every time I tentatively brought up going home to meet my parents or getting married, he would smile and tell me to wait a little longer. He said we should wait until the company was more stable. He said he didnt want me to settle for less.

I had thought his feelings for me had faded.

So it turned out he had been secretly preparing this all along.

My fingers trembled a little as I carefully slid the ring onto my ring finger.

It got stuck.

The ring stopped at my second knuckle and would not go any farther, squeezing so tightly that the base of my finger turned red.

It was too small.

I froze for a moment, then shook my head with an amused little smile and took it off, putting it back into the box.

Seven years ago, my fingers had been slender and fair, untouched by any household work.

All these years, I had taken care of his food, clothes, and daily life. I had stayed up with him late into the night revising proposals. In winter, I had personally washed the bespoke shirts he refused to let the housekeeper touch. My fingers had grown at least one size thicker.

A designers hands had slowly become a housewifes hands, the knuckles swelling by a full circle.

And he had actually bought it according to my size from back then.

That careless idiot.

I carefully slipped the ring off and put it back in the box exactly as it had been.

I couldnt let him find out. I had to let him follow his own plan.

As for the size, I would just hint at it tonight. When he proposed, I would pretend to be surprised.

But no matter what, I couldnt press down the corners of my mouth.

My mind was full of thoughts. How would he propose? What would he say to me?

I was in a good mood the entire afternoon.

That night, as usual, I personally stewed his favorite seafood soup and pushed open the door to his study.

Shawn Foster was leaning back in his chair, on a phone call.

His long legs were crossed, his figure tall and sharp, his posture effortlessly refined.

When he saw me come in, he lifted his eyes and smiled at me. Then he hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me onto his lap.

The man on the other end spoke fluent French with a Parisian accent, his tone full of teasing.

It was his childhood friend, Luke Bennett.

The ring arrived? Youre really going to propose?

Shawn Foster casually stroked my wrist, his voice lazy as he answered in French as well.

Yeah. I had someone get it from an auction in Antwerp. Twelve carats, specially customized to fit her size.

Leaning against his chest, I secretly curved my lips and fed him a spoonful of soup.

Not bad. Thats a pretty big move.

Luke Bennett whistled. Is Fiona Quinn worth you spending that kind of money?

My whole body went stiff.

The ring wasnt for me!

Of course she is. Back then, I wasnt good enough for her.

Shawn Foster lowered his head and kissed the tip of my ear. Now that I have the ability, I owe her an answer.

Damn. I never thought Id see the day Shawn Foster got tied down. Then what about Wendy Wells? What are you planning to tell her?

Shawn Foster leaned back in his chair, his tone carrying that familiar indifference I knew too well.

The wedding wont be big. Just a few people we know well. I can keep the news under control. It wont reach Wendys ears.

You mean youre going to hide it from her? For how long?

Shawn Foster was silent for a moment, then glanced at me.

As long as I can.

Arent you afraid shell find out and leave?

Shawn Foster rubbed his brow, his tone turning serious.

Wendy wont leave. She loves me that much, and her family doesnt have any real background. Her social circle all these years exists because she followed me into it. Her parents are probably dying for me to marry her. Tell me, if she leaves me, where can she go?

The man on the other end laughed suggestively.

Shawn, thats pretty ruthless. Shes been your girlfriend for seven years, and now shes turning into your mistress?

Shawn Fosters face darkened. He rubbed my hair.

Dont talk nonsense. I do have feelings for Wendy. Its been seven years. How could I not? She treats me well and worries about everything for me. I know all of that.

He paused, as if choosing his words.

But Fiona is different. You know how devastated I was when she left back then. Now that shes come back, I dont want to miss my chance again.

I lowered my head and looked at my own hand.

That afternoon, when I had tried on the ring, it had left a faint indentation on my knuckle.

So it wasnt that he had carelessly remembered my size wrong.

That ring had never been meant for me from the very beginning.

Seven years. I never knew the person he truly wanted to marry had never been me.

Just like he didnt know that the person in his arms had never been some little girl without any powerful family background.

Just like he didnt know that the mysterious designer Lune, whom the whole world was desperately searching for, was right now in his arms.

Seven years ago, Dad asked me to come home for an arranged marriage alliance. I had a huge fight with him and sat by the river crying.

Shawn Foster thought I was upset over something and stayed with me the whole night.

He talked to me about his dreams.

He said he wanted to build his own fashion group and make everyone who looked down on him regret it.

The fire in his eyes drew me in.

It made me willing to wager everything on him.

We naturally ended up together.

I took off the Wells family name, moved out of a luxury apartment in the city center and into his two-hundred-square-foot rental, and told him I was from an ordinary family too.

I accompanied him as he founded AVEUN, secretly sending him money and resources.

The three earliest rounds of financing for AVEUN were quietly injected by me under the name of an investment company owned by Wells Group.

Later, AVEUN needed a designer who could hold up its image.

Shawn Foster searched everywhere, but he was never satisfied.

One late night, while Shawn Foster was asleep, I submitted my designs to AVEUNs official email under the name Lune.

That collection later became AVEUNs most classic series, and it was also the foundation that turned Shawn Foster into a legend in the industry.

Simon Foster said signing Lune was the best bargain he had ever made in his life.

But to this day, no one knew who Lune was.

Not even Shawn Foster himself.

All he knew was that Lune refused all interviews, never attended any events, communicated only through email, and was a genius but eccentric person.

He didnt know that genius slept beside him every night, making him coffee and ironing his shirts every day.

From the days when he couldnt afford to rent an office and could only sketch in a rental apartment, to now, when his AVEUN Group had become the hottest fashion group in the country, I had always been there.

But he had never once brought up marriage.

At first, I understood.

Back then, he had nothing. The one-bedroom apartment he rented did not even have a decent bed. He said, When Im worthy of you.

I smiled and said okay.

Later, the company secured its first round of financing.

Then it signed several major celebrity endorsements.

Then AVEUNs annual revenue broke two billion.

His reason became, Wait a little longer. This year is too busy.

After that, it became, Whats the rush? Its not like Im going anywhere.

In the past two years, he had already become unwilling to even hear me mention it.

All right, lets stop talking. My Wendy should be getting sleepy.

He hung up the phone, lowered his head, kissed my forehead, and asked gently in Chinese, What are you thinking about?

I was thinking about what you two were talking about. I lowered my head, hiding my emotions.

Just work. Whats there to think about? Shawn Foster laughed softly, picked up the bowl, and took a sip of soup, his features relaxing.

Im going to shower. Lets sleep early tonight.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom.

My phone vibrated.

It was the monthly email from Paris, from the family legal team.

[Miss Wells: Your father asked me to pass on a message. The family is ready to welcome you back at any time.]

I glanced in the direction of the bathroom and calmly replied with four words:

[Arrange the return trip.]

Since you think I cant live without you.

Then Ill take everything I gave you and leave you forever.

Chapter 2

Wendy Wells POV

The next morning, I woke up to my biological clock.

The other half of the bed was empty, and the blankets had already gone cold.

In the past, I had always been the first to get up every morning, make breakfast, and then wake him, just so he could stay in bed for ten more minutes.

His work was busy. I felt bad for him.

Yet today, he had actually gotten up earlier than me.

Wrapped in my sleepwear, I walked out of the bedroom and saw Shawn Foster standing in front of the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet.

A brand-new bespoke suit, newly changed cuff links, and his hair freshly styled. He looked even more meticulous than he did for a brand launch.

He changed three ties in front of the mirror.

When he saw me in the mirror, he turned his head and smiled. His brows carried an undisguisable good mood.

Why are you awake? Sleep a little longer.

Why are you up so early today?

Theres an important meeting at the company. I have to get there early.

As he spoke, he was still adjusting his cuffs, a smile hanging at the corners of his mouth.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him.

Shawn Foster worked in fashion, so his taste in clothing had never been bad. But he also never dressed this carefully on an ordinary workday.

Unless the person he was seeing today was worth him getting up at six and fussing in front of the mirror.

I drew in a breath and decided to give this seven-year relationship one last chance.

I tried to make my tone sound as casual as possible.

Shawn, come home with me next week. My parents want to meet you.

His hands paused on the buttons, but he did not turn around.

Theres a major project going on lately. I cant get away. Next time.

In seven years, I had heard next time far too many times.

I didnt say anything else.

Forget it.

After fastening his cuff links, he walked over, bent down, and kissed the top of my head, his voice gentle.

I have to work overtime tonight. I might be home very late. Eat dinner by yourself. Dont wait for me.

With that, he headed out, his steps so light he looked as if he were going to some long-awaited appointment.

The door closed, and the living room fell quiet.

His phone was lying quietly on the shoe cabinet in the living room.

He had left in such a hurry that he forgot to take it.

The screen lit up automatically, and an unread message popped up.

Contact name: Fiona.

[Shawn, its been seven years. I missed you so much. See you at the airport in a bit.]

Getting up at six, changing three ties, smiling so brightly his eyes nearly flew off his faceso he was going to pick her up at the airport.

The front door was suddenly pushed open.

Shawn Foster had come back, his footsteps hurried.

He strode to the entryway and picked up his phone. The instant his fingertip lit the screen, his movements stiffened for a split second.

He looked up at me, a trace of nervousness in his gaze.

Wendy, did you look at my phone just now?

Curled up on the sofa and holding a cup of water, I lifted my head at his words, my expression innocent.

No. Why?

He looked at me for two seconds, searching my face.

Then his shoulders relaxed, and his brow smoothed out.

He came over, wrapped an arm around my waist, lowered his head, and kissed the corner of my mouth, his voice soft.

Nothing. Love you.

The door closed for the second time, and the sound of the car engine gradually faded.

Love you. He said those two words several times a day.

Before, I had believed every single one.

I knew who Fiona was.

Fiona Quinn, one of the film industrys most famous actresses. She had been working overseas these past few years, and this year she had just received a Cannes Best Actress nomination. Her red-carpet looks had swept the headlines of every major fashion media outlet.

Seven years ago, she had only been Shawn Fosters college girlfriend.

They had dated for four years, from freshman year until graduation.

The year they graduated, Shawn Foster took his business plan everywhere and hit wall after wall.

Fiona Quinn disliked that he was poor and had no future. She left him with the words, You cant give me the life I want, then turned around and entered the entertainment industry.

When Shawn Foster met me, it had been less than a month since he was dumped.

He had told me about Fiona Quinn. Back then, he held me and spoke very seriously.

Fiona Quinn is my ex. Shes in the past. Wendy, youre my true love.

I believed him for seven whole years.

But all it took was for his ex to buy a plane ticket back, and he rushed right up to her.

My phone rang. It was a video call from my brother, William Wells.

Wendy, Dad said youre coming back? Did Shawn Foster bully you?

No. I just miss you guys.

Dont try that with me. Say the word, and Ill fly over tomorrow and take his legs off

The phone was snatched away.

Dads voice was much gentler, carrying a cautious tentativeness.

Wendy, if you miss home, then come back. Youve been out there for seven years. It must have been hard, right? I wont push you into an arranged marriage alliance anymore. Come back, and you can do whatever you want.

I clenched my phone, my eyes burning.

I had been stupid. I had rejected the family who genuinely loved me and trusted Shawn Foster with my whole heart.

My dad loved me so much. How could the marriage partner he chose for me possibly be bad?

Dad, Im willing to come back for the arranged marriage alliance.

The other end of the call went quiet.

After a long while, Dad laughed, but halfway through, his voice caught.

Good. Good! Next week, Ill have William take the private jet to pick you up!

He paused, then his tone softened.

Oh, right, sweetheart. Today is your birthday. Happy birthday, my good girl.

Tears splashed onto my phone screen.

Thank you, Dad.

Chapter 3

Wendy Wells POV

All day today, my phone never stopped.

My college classmates group chat filled two whole screens with birthday wishes.

My best friend sent several sixty-second voice messages in a row, screaming as she asked what gift I wanted.

The design team in Paris sent over a huge bouquet of white roses by international air freight. On the card was a line printed in French: Joyeux anniversaire, Lune.

Everyone remembered what day it was.

Shawn Foster used to remember too.

When we were poor, he brought home the cheapest bouquet of carnations from a roadside flower shop and put them in a washed paper cup in the rental apartment.

The cake was a discounted little cake from the supermarket, only big enough for one thin candle.

He held me and said, When I have money, Ill definitely give you the grandest birthday.

Later, he really did.

A reserved cruise ship, tens of millions in jewelry, fireworks blooming over the sea all night, and LED screens across the city scrolling the words Happy Birthday, Wendy Wells.

In seven years, he had never missed my birthday.

This year was different.

Fiona Quinn had come back, and he had forgotten my birthday.

Over the course of the day, I packed up all my things.

In the walk-in closet, the things he had given me over the years filled an entire wall.

Limited-edition bags, haute couture gowns, jewelry sets bought at auctionseach piece was worth a fortune.

The cabinet beside it held the things I had given him.

A Patek Philippe annual calendar, Hermes platinum cuff links, and a vintage leather blazer hed been hunting for years. I had someone search the vintage shops in Tokyo for three months before finally finding it.

I called the housekeeper over.

Auntie Lily, pack all of these up. Contact a charity and have them donated by the end of today.

Auntie Lily froze.

Miss Wells, all of this together must be worth over a hundred million

Yes. So donating it can help a lot of people.

Auntie Lily didnt dare ask any more questions. She called people over to pack and move everything.

By evening, more than half of the walk-in closet was empty, and the house looked as if it had gone through a move.

I barely ate a few bites at dinner. My stomach felt awful, and I wanted to throw up.

At first, I thought it was because I had barely eaten all day and was overly hungry.

Until the third time I dry-heaved, I supported myself against the sink and suddenly remembered something.

My period had not come this month.

Half an hour later, I sat on the edge of the bathtub with a pregnancy test in my hand, staring at the two red lines, my mind completely blank.

My phone screen lit up. It was a push notification for an entertainment news article.

[Famous actress Fiona Quinn quietly returns to the country, escorted the entire way through the airport by mystery gentleman in full VIP treatment]

In the attached photo, Fiona Quinn was wearing sunglasses while a mans hand protected her waist as she passed through the crowd.

The photo did not capture the mans face.

But I recognized the watch on that wrist.

A Patek Philippe 5270P, perpetual calendar chronograph, limited worldwide release.

It was the thirtieth birthday gift I had given Shawn Foster.

My phone vibrated again.

Shawn Foster sent me a WeChat message.

Wendy, I have to work late at the office tonight, so I wont be coming home. Go to sleep first. Love you.

I looked at the pregnancy test, then at the message.

The irony felt like a play whose script had already been written.

We used to lie in bed and talk countless times about having children someday.

He said their eyes should look like mine, their nose like his.

He said if it was a daughter, we would name her Nina Foster; if it was a boy, Grant Foster.

He said once the company was a little more stable, we would have one.

The child had come, but his heart was already gone.

I didnt even know if anything he said back then had been sincere.

I didnt sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him kissing me while saying he needed to give Fiona Quinn an answer. I saw the hand in the airport photo, shielding Fiona.

I held back for a long time, but in the end, I still couldnt stop myself from calling him.

It rang for a long time. No one answered.

After a while, I called again. His phone was off.

Clutching my phone, I curled up on the sofa and finally couldnt hold it together anymore.

I cried the entire night.

Seven years of feelings couldnt be cut off just because I said so.

Especially not when there was another life inside me.

The next morning, I got up with my eyes so swollen I could barely open them.

The person in the mirror looked haggard beyond recognition.

I decided to go to the hospital first and get checked, just to confirm it.

When the car passed through an intersection, a truck running a red light slammed into us from the side.

After the deafening crash, a sharp pain shot through my leg, and something warm trickled down my calf.

I was still conscious enough to dial Shawn Fosters number.

The number you have dialed is powered off.

Chapter 4

Wendy Wells POV

In the end, a passerby called an ambulance for me.

When I arrived at the hospital, a nurse pushed me into the emergency room.

As we rounded the corner by the outpatient hall, I turned my head and saw Shawn Foster.

He was standing in front of the registration desk, slightly bent over, filling out a form for the woman beside him.

Fiona Quinn was leaning against his shoulder, looking as if she wasnt feeling well.

As Shawn filled out the form, he turned his head to speak to her, his tone gentle and patient, like he was coaxing a sick child.

My injuries werent too serious. My leg needed seven stitches.

But the doctors expression was a little grave.

Ms. Wells, the external wound on your leg has been treated. But your abdomen suffered an impact, and judging from the examination results

She glanced at the report in her hand.

You were about six weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, due to the force of the car accident, the fetus could not be saved.

I stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

Last night, I had cried all night over those two red lines, asking myself over and over whether I wanted this child.

Now I didnt have to ask anymore.

The doctor was still explaining the post-op precautions when the door to the ward was suddenly pushed open.

Shawn Foster rushed in.

Wendy? It really is you.

He strode to the bedside, his gaze sweeping over the gauze and stitches on my leg. His expression changed.

How did you get hurt? What happened? Why didnt you call me?

The doctor was still standing beside us and took over.

Hello, sir. The patient was in a car accident this morning. Her leg required seven stitches, and in addition, because her abdomen suffered an impact, it caused a miscar

I did call.

I cut the doctor off and looked at Shawn Foster.

Your phone was off.

Shawn froze.

Almost instinctively, he took out his phone and glanced at it. The screen was lit, with full signal.

I watched the changes in his expression.

First confusion, then a flash of guilt.

He lowered his head and quickly swiped on his phone a few times before hiding the screen again.

Sorry. I was too busy working overtime yesterday. My phone ran out of battery and shut off by itself. I didnt know you called.

He was lying.

I knew what he was doing.

He was taking my number off the blacklist.

And he wasnt the one who had blocked me.

Fiona Quinn was.

Shawn a weak female voice came from the doorway.

Fiona Quinn stood there, holding onto the doorframe. Over her hospital gown, she had draped Shawn Fosters suit jacket, and her face was even paler than when I had seen her in the hall.

Shawn immediately turned and went to her, one hand supporting her waist, the other holding her arm. His voice was full of tension and reproach.

Why did you get out of bed? The doctor told you to stay in bed and rest.

Fiona leaned weakly into his arms, her gaze passing over his shoulder to look at me on the hospital bed.

I saw you rush out in such a hurry. I was worried, so I came to take a look.

She sized me up, her tone innocent and naive.

And this is?

Shawn Foster had his back to me.

He didnt turn around.

A friend. I saw she was hospitalized, so I came to check on her.

So I was his friend.

He crouched down and gently lifted her into his arms.

Fionas arms naturally looped around his neck.

Holding her, Shawn Foster walked out, tossing one sentence back at me.

Rest well. Ill take her back to her ward first.

Shawn Foster carried Fiona Quinn to the end of the hallway and disappeared. He never came back.

The doctor told me to go for another examination, so I could only hold onto the wall and limp there by myself.

When I passed a VIP ward at the corner of the hallway, the door was left slightly ajar.

Shawn Foster was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Fiona Quinns hand as she received an IV.

Fiona turned her head to look at him. Her voice didnt sound weak at all.

That woman just now. What exactly is your relationship with her?

Dont overthink it. Shes just a friend.

Dont try to fool me. What kind of friend calls you so many times in the middle of the night? Shawn Foster, do you think Im blind?

Shawn Foster was silent for a moment.

She was a substitute I found when you werent around. Weve already broken up.

Then do you still love her?

I only love you. Do you even need to ask?

Words are cheap. Fiona pulled her hand back and turned her head away from him. Prove it to me.

Shawn Foster took a box from the inner pocket of his suit.

Dark green velvet, with a hidden gold clasp.

I recognized that box.

The night before last, I had secretly opened it and tried on the ring inside. It had gotten stuck at my knuckle.

He got down on one knee.

I originally wanted to find a more formal occasion, but I cant wait anymore.

He opened the box. The twelve-carat pear-cut diamond refracted a blinding light.

Fiona Quinn, seven years ago, I wasnt good enough. I couldnt make you stay. For the past seven years, Ive fought with everything I had to climb higher, all so that one day I could stand in front of you and be worthy of you. Marry me.

Tears fell from Fionas eyes, and she held out her left hand.

The ring slid onto her ring finger, fitting perfectly.

I stood outside the door. The wound on my leg was still seeping blood, staining the gauze dark red.

So that was how he defined me.

Just a substitute.

I turned around and limped away from that door.

The hallway was long, so long it felt like I would never reach the end.

My phone rang. It was my assistant calling.

Ms. Wells, the design collaboration license between Lune and AVEUN expires next month. Should I renew the contract as usual?

For seven years, every time the contract expired, I told her to renew it.

No.

My assistant was clearly stunned.

You said no?

Yes. Once it expires, notify Legal to start the termination process.

Chapter 5

Wendy Wells POV

Not long after I hung up, Shawn Fosters message came through.

Wendy, that was Fiona Quinn just now. She just came back to the country and doesnt have many friends here. Last night, she ate something bad and got acute gastroenteritis, so she came to the hospital this morning. Shes a public figure, so its inconvenient for her to show her face. I just helped run an errand for her. Dont overthink it.

I didnt reply.

Over the next few days, Shawn Foster never came to my ward.

He sent messages saying the company suddenly had a project to follow up on and he had gone out of town on a business trip. He had hired the best caregiver to take care of me and told me to focus on recovering.

The caregiver was indeed diligent, asking after me, serving tea and water, taking care of every detail.

But he chose to personally stay with Fiona Quinn, and he lied to me.

On the third night, an unknown number sent me a message.

It was a video.

The background was the messy bed in a hotel suite.

Fiona Quinn had her arms around Shawn Fosters neck, her voice soft and coy.

Who do you love?

You. I only love you.

I didnt need to guess who had sent it from that number.

On the day I was discharged, I called a car and went home by myself.

When I pushed open the door, the lights in the living room were on. Shawn Foster was back.

The moment he saw me come in, he immediately got up and walked over to take the things from my hands.

Youre back? Hows your leg? Does it hurt?

As he spoke, he handed me a gift box.

I left for that business trip in such a hurry that I didnt get a chance to visit you. I bought you a gift as an apology.

I opened the box. It was a diamond bracelet.

I wasnt surprised at all.

Because ten minutes earlier, that unknown number had sent another photo.

In the photo, a diamond necklace from the same series rested against Fiona Quinns collarbone. It was more than ten times more expensive than this bracelet.

You got the bracelet, right? It was a free gift that came with the necklace. I didnt want it, so I rewarded you with it.

A necklace for his lover, a freebie to brush me off.

In the past, whenever I received a gift from him, even if it was just ice cream bought from a roadside stand, I could be happy for days.

I glanced at the bracelet and casually set it on the table.

Shawn Fosters expression shifted.

He frowned slightly, as if sensing something was wrong. Then he reached out, wrapped an arm around my waist, and pulled me into his embrace.

Are you angry? It was my fault for not visiting you these past few days. It wont happen again.

He lowered his head to kiss me.

I turned my head slightly, just about to find an excuse to avoid him.

His phone rang.

Shawn Foster ignored it and kept leaning in.

The phone kept ringing.

I pushed lightly against his shoulder.

Answer it. Its been ringing for so long. Maybe its urgent.

Nothing is more important than you. He pinched my cheek and smiled.

The phone rang for the third time.

He finally glanced at the screen in irritation, and his smile froze.

He let go of me, picked up his phone, and quickly walked to the balcony.

Through the glass door, I saw him answer the call, his brows tightly furrowed, his tone urgent but quiet.

I faintly heard things like Dont worry and Ill be right there.

He pushed open the glass door and returned to the living room, heading straight for his coat.

Theres an emergency at the company. I have to go out for a bit.

He bent down and quickly kissed my forehead.

Dont let the wound on your leg touch water. Sleep early.

I sat on the sofa and looked at the bracelet I had casually left on the table.

The diamonds sparkled beautifully under the light, cold and icy, just like this home.

That night, the unknown number sent another photo.

In the photo, Shawn Foster was asleep with his arms around Fiona Quinn. Their bare shoulders were exposed above the covers.

All it takes is one call from me, and I can make him leave your side. So what if you were his substitute for seven years? The real one is back. Why are you still clinging to him? Before I make him kick you out, be sensible and get lost on your own.

I pressed the X hard to close the chat, then sent a message to another number:

Find out everything Fiona Quinn has been doing overseas these past few years. The more detailed, the better.

The other party replied instantly:

Understood, Miss Wells.

Chapter 6

Wendy Wells POV

The next afternoon, I decided to go out and watch a movie.

A classic old film I really liked was being re-released.

I had wanted to see it the year it first came out, but back then, I was helping Shawn Foster start his business and was too busy. I never got to watch it.

Over the years, whenever I mentioned to Shawn Foster that I wanted to go to a movie, he always said he had been busy lately and we would go another day.

Another day turned into nothing.

After a while, I stopped bringing it up.

This time, I wasnt waiting anymore.

Just as I was about to leave, I ran into Shawn Foster.

He was carrying a bag of things. When he saw me, he froze slightly.

Where are you going?

I didnt look at him. I lowered my head and organized my bag.

To see a movie.

He frowned, his tone a little urgent.

Why didnt you tell me earlier? Ill go with you.

Do you have time?

My tone was calm as I looked up at him.

Shawn Foster choked on his words, his voice turning a little unnatural.

I do. Lets go. Ill drive.

On the way there, he talked a lot, much warmer than usual.

He asked if my leg still hurt, asked what I wanted to eat, and even took the initiative to say he would take me to a Japanese restaurant I had mentioned once a long time ago.

He was making it up to me.

Making up for the way he had been stuck to Fiona Quinn these past few days and neglected me.

When we arrived at the screening room, we sat in the middle row.

Before the lights dimmed, someone sat down in the seat beside us.

A low-brim baseball cap, a black mask, half her face covered.

But I recognized her. Shawn Foster recognized her too.

It was Fiona Quinn.

Fiona Quinn sat on Shawn Fosters right.

I sat on his left.

The lights went out, and the screen lit up.

Barely ten minutes into the movie, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shawn Fosters right hand slide off the armrest.

Fiona Quinns left hand also dangled beside her seat.

In the darkness, their hands quietly clasped together.

The light from the screen flickered between bright and dim.

Shawn Fosters right hand went from holding hers to resting on Fiona Quinns knee, then slowly slipped under the hem of her skirt.

I turned back to look at the screen.

The theater was too dark. Not a single frame on the screen registered in my mind.

When the movie ended, people surged through the lobby.

Fiona Quinn took off her mask to fix her hair and was recognized by a few girls passing by.

Oh my God, its Fiona Quinn! Its really Fiona Quinn herself!

The screams triggered a chain reaction, and the crowd began to rush this way.

Shawn Foster reacted unbelievably fast.

He wrapped an arm around Fiona Quinns shoulders, using his body to block the crowd, lowering his head to shield her as he hurried toward the side exit.

Fiona leaned into his arms smoothly, their movements flawless together.

I stood where I was, pushed around by the crowd leaving the theater. Someone kicked the wound on my leg, and the pain drilled straight into my bones.

He had left too quickly.

He had forgotten that he had come to the movie with me.

I walked out of the theater alone and took a cab home.

That night, a set of photos climbed onto the trending searches.

Fiona Quinn Mobbed by Fans During Movie Outing, Mystery Male Companion Protected Her the Entire Time

The photos had been taken by a passerby on a phone, and the angle only captured Shawn Fosters back.

The lines of his suit were sharp, his figure tall and upright.

The comment section was frantically guessing his identity, all of them saying, He looks so handsome just from the back.

I scrolled through two screens of comments, then turned off my phone.

That evening, Shawn Foster came home.

When he entered, his expression was a little uneasy, and he took the initiative to explain.

What happened this afternoonFiona Quinn is a famous actress. It wouldve been dangerous if she was recognized. The situation was too chaotic at the time, and I

I understand. I took over his words. You dont need to explain.

Shawn Fosters words caught in his throat, his half-finished explanation hanging awkwardly in the air.

He looked at me, as if waiting for me to continue, waiting for me to ask questions or get angry.

You really dont mind?

I dont. Whats there to mind?

He was silent for a while, then said dully, Thats good.

After a moment, he changed the subject.

Theres a charity gala tomorrow night. Come with me.

All these years, I had always accompanied him to public events. Everyone in the circle knew I was his girlfriend.

Okay.

The next day, after Shawn Foster went to work, my assistant called.

Ms. Wells, Mr. Fosters side said they want to borrow First Snow.

My hand, holding the cup, froze.

First Snow was Lunes most famous work.

The outside world called it the pinnacle into which the designer had poured her entire heart and soul.

No one knew that gown was designed by me for myself.

Every stitch, every thread, every hand-sewn crystal carried the same wish:

One day, I would wear it to marry Shawn Foster.

It was displayed in the glass display case on the first floor of AVEUN Groups headquarters.

Countless people stopped to admire it every day, but no one had ever worn it.

Because the authorization contract I signed with AVEUN stated it clearly:

First Snow may only be used as a work of art for static exhibition. Without Lunes own written authorization, no one is permitted to borrow it, try it on, or use it for commercial exposure.

Mr. Foster said it was to lend to Ms. Quinn for tonights charity gala.

The assistant continued, He said AVEUN will be collaborating with Ms. Quinn later on, and Ms. Quinns personal aura suits this gown perfectly. First Snow has never been worn by anyone before. It has enough buzz, and it would also be excellent exposure for the brand.

A grand, righteous-sounding excuse.

The gown I designed with my own handshe wanted to drape it over another woman.

No.

Understood. Ill reply to Mr. Foster.