Vivie had never been one to give up easily. Once she set her heart on something, she pursued it with unwavering determination. And now, that resolve was directed entirely at Ashton.

She wanted him to see her—not just as the naive girl he had been forced to marry, not just as an inconvenience, but as someone who could be by his side, as someone he could want in return.

So she tried.

It started with small things. When he worked late nights in his study, she would bring him coffee. She wasn’t sure if he liked it black or with cream and sugar, so she experimented, watching his reactions closely. Some nights, he took a sip and didn’t say a word, simply placing the mug down and continuing with his work. Other times, he barely glanced at it, his indifference cutting into her like a blade. But she didn’t stop.

During meals, she would wait for him, even when he came late. When he was home, she lingered around him, hoping for any sign that he noticed her efforts. She would hum softly while reading on the couch, just to break the silence between them. She learned his schedule, made sure she was around when he was.

She started dressing differently—not dramatically so, but enough for him to take notice. Softer colors, elegant fabrics, little touches that made her feel beautiful. She wanted him to see her as more than just the girl he had been forced to be with. She wanted him to want her.

But Ashton remained cold. Unmoved. He barely acknowledged her efforts, and when he did, it was with a passive glance, a curt nod, or a few muttered words that made her question if he even cared.

Still, she persisted. Because maybe, just maybe, he did care. Maybe he was just too stubborn to show it.

But then she came back.

Vivie first heard the sound of high heels clicking against the marble floor—sharp, confident, and all too familiar. She turned, and there she was: tall, stunning, radiating the kind of effortless grace that made Vivie feel painfully small.

Ashton’s ex.

The air in the room shifted. Vivie’s heart pounded as she watched Ashton enter the room. And then, the moment that shattered her—the way his expression softened, just slightly, at the sight of her.

“Ashton,” the woman said smoothly, stepping closer. “It’s been a long time.”

He didn’t step back. He didn’t push her away.

Vivie felt herself freeze, every inch of her body screaming for her to look away, but she couldn’t.

The woman’s fingers grazed Ashton’s arm, lingering just enough to make Vivie’s stomach churn.

And Ashton let her.

She didn’t understand. After everything, after all her efforts, why was he letting this happen? Why was he letting her get close when he had spent so long pushing Vivie away?

And then it hit her.

He was doing this on purpose.

He wanted her to stop. He wanted her to give up.

Vivie felt something inside her crack.

The woman turned, her eyes settling on Vivie with amusement. “And who is this?” she asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Ashton didn’t answer right away. That hesitation was enough.

Vivie swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a smile. “I was just leaving,” she murmured, turning on her heel before she could break apart completely.

She didn’t stop walking, even when Ashton called her name.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.

But as she disappeared down the hallway, her vision blurred with unshed tears, she knew.

She had lost him.

Maybe she had never even had him to begin with.