Ten Years of Loving You in Vain

It took me ten years to go from secretly loving Zane Shaw from afar to becoming his fiancée. For an entire decade, I lived like his shadow. I followed wherever he went and abandoned the future I had once planned for myself. Everyone said Tessa Stone loved Zane so much that she had lost herself in him. They were right. Everyone at the architecture firm knew that years ago, I'd given up a guaranteed spot at a prestigious STEM university and thrown myself into a field I knew nothing about, all for the chance to stand a little closer to him. And through it all, Zane remained as distant and indifferent toward me as ever. Except for that one time. Chapter 1 A year earlier, I had accompanied Zane on a site inspection in the mountains when a landslide struck. The moment I saw a massive boulder about to come down on him, I threw myself forward and shoved him out of the way with all my strength. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was the panic in his eyes. I remained unconscious for three days. Both my legs were fractured, and debris had torn up my back so badly that I needed three surgeries and more than a dozen metal screws. I came dangerously close to being left permanently disabled. On the day I was discharged, Zane stood outside my hospital room with a plain band clenched in his hand. His voice was calm when he proposed, almost as though he were discussing something ordinary. "Tessa Stone, you saved my life, so I have to marry you. From now on, I'll fulfill my responsibilities as your husband and take good care of you." At the time, I was naive enough to believe that once we were married, I would eventually be able to melt his cold heart. I never even noticed the indifference in his eyes. Instead, I was overjoyed, convinced that after ten long years of waiting, my love was finally being requited. Then Yvette Quinn appeared. There were only ten days left until the wedding when I stood in the hallway of the architecture firm's administrative building, holding a freshly printed application form. Daniel Grant, the department head, looked surprised to see me. I slid the form across his desk. "Mr. Grant, is there still an opening for the remote development assignment? I'd like to add my name to the list." Daniel stared at me. "Aren't you and our chief engineer getting married soon?" I managed a faint smile. "I've thought it through. Please add me to the list." Daniel fell silent. After a moment, he shook his head helplessly, and the look in his eyes held a trace of pity. In the end, he sighed and signed the approval form. "The final list will be announced next week, and the team leaves in early August. Tessa... think it over carefully. If you change your mind, come see me anytime." "Thank you, Mr. Grant." I left the administrative building with the signed approval form in hand. Just as I reached the bottom of the steps, I heard the sound of an approaching engine. Zane's black company car slowly pulled up in front of the building. The passenger door opened first, and Yvette stepped out in an ivory dress, her long hair catching the sunlight with a soft sheen. She walked around to the other side and naturally slipped her arm through Zane's as he got out of the car. He didn't pull away. I remembered the time my fever had climbed to nearly 104 degrees, and I had begged Zane to take me to the hospital. On the way there, I became so dizzy that I reached for him to steady myself, but the moment I touched him, he shoved me away. I collapsed to the ground, and it wasn't until I woke up later that I learned what had happened. After pushing me away, Zane had simply left, leaving a coworker who happened to pass by to take me to the hospital. Everyone said that after chasing him for ten years, I had finally gotten the ending I wanted. But only I knew that all those years had earned me nothing but his distance and indifference. Zane had never been a cold or humorless man. He simply had no love to spare for me. He let Yvette eat chips at his desk, drink from his mug, and even mess up the sketches he treasured most without ever losing his temper. Afterward, he would simply have me sort everything out and put it all back in order. Chapter 2 So this was how obvious the difference was between loving someone and not loving them. Instead of going back to the office, I went straight home. Back then, I had been eagerly imagining the life we would build together and kept asking Zane to come look at houses with me. He had simply handed me a bank card and told me to take care of it myself. Our wedding portrait still hung on the wall. I had lost count of how many times I'd asked Zane to take the photos with me. In the end, he had the studio manager find someone with a similar build to stand in for him, then had his own face edited onto the pictures afterward. By the time I finished packing, my head was spinning. I was probably running a fever again. My phone lit up with Zane's name. "I'm coming back to pick something up. Are you home?" I stared at the message for a while, then drifted off to sleep in a feverish haze. I didn't know how much time had passed before the sound of a key turning in the lock woke me. A warm amber light came on, making me squint. Zane stepped inside, bringing a trace of the cold air in with him, a briefcase in one hand. His gaze swept over the nearly empty living room before settling on the wedding portrait I had propped against the wall, and his brows drew together almost imperceptibly. Out of habit, I started to get up, but my legs suddenly gave way, and I nearly fell. Zane instinctively caught my arm, only to pull his hand back the instant his fingers touched me, as though the contact had burned him. I dropped back onto the couch. "You look awful." His tone was flat, more like a routine question than genuine concern. I avoided his eyes, my voice painfully hoarse. "I'm fine. Just a slight fever." "Why are you packing?" I looked at him. "Zane, let's cancel the wedding." He clearly hadn't expected that. After several seconds of silence, he said, "Is this because of Yvette? There's nothing between us. We were just in the same program." Then, as if that explained everything, he added, "She's different from you. She went abroad on her own when she was fourteen. She has goals and a career she cares about. She doesn't spend all day obsessing over relationships." Zane ignored my reaction and went into the study. A moment later, he came back carrying one of his old sketchbooks. Only when he was about to leave did he glance at me again. "Yvette needs this sketchbook urgently, so I'm taking it to her. If you're sick, go to the hospital. Don't try to tough it out." I watched him walk away, my throat tightening as though it had been stuffed with wet cotton, heavy and painfully clogged. The next day, I took time off work and called a real estate agent to come look at the house. "Ms. Stone, this place is in a great location, the layout is good, and the renovations are still new. If you list it at this price, you're going to lose a lot of money. Are you sure you need to sell it this quickly?" "I'm sure." I signed the listing agreement without hesitation. "The sooner, the better." Once the house was on the market, I packed two suitcases and checked into a budget hotel near the architecture firm. The room was tiny, with nothing more than a bed, a desk, and a bathroom. The window faced a busy street, and the sound of traffic never seemed to stop. And yet somehow, I felt more at ease here than I ever had in the home I'd spent so much time making ours. At least there was no trace of Zane here, and none of the fantasies I had spent years clinging to. After that, I called the hotel where the wedding reception had been booked. "I'd like to cancel my wedding reception." "Ms. Stone, the wedding is only ten days away. If you cancel now, the deposit is nonrefundable. Are you sure you want to cancel?" "I'm sure." After hanging up, I curled up on the narrow hotel bed. My fever still hadn't broken, and as I drifted in and out of a haze, all the memories I had deliberately forced down came rushing back at once. Chapter 3 I thought back to when I was sixteen and saw Zane for the first time in the library. He was sitting by the window, sunlight spilling through the glass and softening the edges of his profile. With his head lowered, he moved a pencil quickly across his sketchbook, so absorbed in his drawing that it seemed as though nothing else around him existed. In that moment, my heart skipped a beat. After that, I started paying attention to him without even meaning to. I learned that he was one of the top students in our grade, that he was talented at drawing and dreamed of becoming an architect, and that he was naturally reserved and kept most people at a distance. None of that stopped me from wanting to get closer to him. For all three years of high school, I pushed myself to do better for one reason: I wanted to get into the same college he did. When it came time to submit our college choices, I gave up a guaranteed admission offer from a prestigious science and engineering university without hesitation and put Bayridge School of Architecture at the top of my list. My homeroom teacher called me in for a talk, and my parents were just as strongly opposed. "Tessa, with your grades in science and math, you could get into a much better school and choose a field with far better prospects. Architecture isn't right for you. It's a demanding career." But I wouldn't listen. There was only one thought in my head: I wanted to go wherever Zane went. Throughout college, I followed in his footsteps until I had practically become his shadow. If he took an elective, I signed up for it. If he joined a club, I joined too. Whenever he went to the library, I found some way to sit nearby. My friends all thought I was being foolish. "Tessa, someone like Zane doesn't have room for feelings. If you keep chasing after him like this, you're only going to be the one who gets hurt." I didn't believe them. I thought that if I tried hard enough and held on long enough, eventually I would get through to him. By graduation, Zane had received an offer from one of the country's most prestigious architecture firms. I turned down a much higher-paying position with an international company and applied to the same firm he had chosen. During my interview, one of the panelists asked, "Why do you want to work here?" "Because there's someone here I look up to and hope to learn from." As I answered, I looked toward Zane, who was seated at the far end of the interview panel. He kept his head down, writing something on his evaluation form, and never once looked at me. I was hired anyway, and I became his assistant. For the next five years, I handled the endless details of his work, organized his files, brought him coffee, and stayed late whenever he worked overtime. I had a hand in every project he designed, even if my part was little more than minor support work, and I never minded any of it. I truly believed that if I stayed by his side long enough, one day that companionship would become a life together. Then came the landslide. The instant the rocks began crashing down and the mountainside gave way, I didn't stop to think. I threw myself over Zane on instinct and shielded him with my own body. Even when the pain hit, a part of me felt relieved. At least he was safe. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw panic written plainly across his face and heard him shouting my name. "Tessa! Tessa!" It was the first time I had ever seen such raw emotion from him. While I was in the hospital, he came to see me every day. He still didn't say much, but he brought me books, adjusted my hospital bed when I was uncomfortable, and quietly held my hand whenever the nurse changed my dressings. Back then, I thought that nearly losing my life to save him might be enough for him to finally come to love me. Looking back now, that sentiment was almost laughable. After taking three days off, I returned to the architecture firm. Chapter 4 The moment I stepped into the office, I heard several coworkers whispering in the break room. "Did you hear? Yvette just joined the firm, and she's already been promoted to assistant director of administration. Zane personally recommended her to the president." I lowered my head and pretended not to hear as I went to my desk and sat down. I had barely opened the file in front of me when a commotion broke out in the adjoining work area. "Come look! This is the design Yvette won the award for! The president had it printed and put up on the display board!" "Oh my God, this is incredible. No wonder it won the gold medal!" I looked up and saw several coworkers gathered around a large architectural rendering, admiring it enthusiastically. Sunlight streamed through the windows and fell across the drawing, illuminating every line and annotation with perfect clarity. My gaze locked on the page. The instant I recognized it, my pupils contracted and all the blood in my body seemed to turn cold. That drawing... It was mine. I had spent more than six months working on it. Every line, every annotation, every detail had come from countless sleepless nights and seventeen rounds of revisions before I was finally satisfied. It wasn't just another set of plans. It represented everything I had learned and developed over years of working in architecture, the clearest expression of the dream I had once pursued for myself. I hadn't even shown it to Zane. I had always planned to wait until after the wedding, then surprise him with it. I had imagined telling him, "Zane, look. I can create something remarkable too. I'm not just a shadow following behind you. I can shine on my own." But now, the work I had guarded so carefully had someone else's name printed across it. Yvette Quinn. The bold black letters seemed to cut straight through me. "This design is amazing! No wonder it won an award!" "Zane really knows talent when he sees it. He found a rising star right away!" Praise poured in from every direction, but I could no longer make out the words. My ears rang and my vision dimmed in waves, forcing me to grip the edge of my desk just to stay on my feet. I stood frozen, my fingers clenched so tightly that my knuckles turned white and my nails dug into my palms, yet I barely felt the pain. Nothing hurt as much as the cold realization settling over me. When I finally spoke, my voice was so dry and hoarse that I almost didn't recognize it. "That design... is mine. My original drawings disappeared from the office two weeks ago." I hadn't spoken loudly, but the effect was immediate. The noisy room fell completely silent. Every head turned toward me, the faces around me filled with shock, contempt, and open curiosity at the drama unfolding in front of them. A coworker pouring water in the break room stopped mid-motion, while people passing through the hallway slowed and turned to watch. Within seconds, I had become the center of attention. I didn't know when Yvette had arrived. She stood beside Zane in a perfectly tailored white dress, her long hair falling smoothly over her shoulders and her makeup immaculate. Dressed all in white, she looked pristine and untouched by anything around her. At my accusation, she tilted her head slightly. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes so quickly that I almost missed it, only to be replaced just as quickly by a wounded expression. "Ms. Stone, what are you talking about?" Her voice was soft, trembling just enough to sound genuinely shocked. Chapter 5 "This is something I poured months of work into. I developed the concept myself, worked through every stage, and finalized the design on my own. How can you possibly say it's yours?" As Yvette spoke, her eyes quickly reddened. Tears gathered along her lashes, threatening to spill but never quite falling, making her look all the more vulnerable. "I know... I know you don't like me because Zane and I are close." She sniffled, her voice beginning to break. "But you can't make up something this awful just to ruin my reputation. This is my career. It's my dream. How could you..." Before she could finish, she broke down sobbing. The office erupted around us. "Has Tessa completely lost it from jealousy?" "Seriously. She can't produce work like this herself, so now she's trying to claim someone else's?" "Mr. Shaw is standing right here, and she still has the nerve to say that." "Poor Yvette. She just started here and already has to deal with something like this..." The comments came from every direction, threatening to drown me out. Their stares pricked at me like countless needles, but I didn't look at any of them. My eyes stayed fixed on Zane. I searched his face for even the slightest hesitation or doubt. Anything that might tell me he was willing to hear me out, that some part of him was willing to believe me. There was nothing. He frowned as he looked at me, his expression cold enough to cut. There was no trust in his eyes, no uncertainty, only undisguised disgust and impatience. "Tessa, are you done making a scene?" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly across the entire office. "I know exactly what you're capable of. The concept, technique, and execution of this design are all far beyond your level. There is no way this is your work." Something inside me shattered. It felt as though everything I had believed in for the past ten years had broken apart all at once, beyond any hope of putting it back together. Ten years of chasing after him, five years of staying by his side, even risking my life to protect him. Yet despite all of that, I was still the same Tessa he considered mediocre and incapable. He had never noticed how hard I worked or how much I had improved. In his eyes, I would never be someone worthy of being called talented. Yvette was still crying, her shoulders trembling pitifully. Zane handed her a tissue, his voice gentle. "Don't cry. If you've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to be afraid of." Then he turned to me, and whatever warmth had been in his expression disappeared instantly. "Tessa, apologize to Yvette right now. Otherwise, don't blame me for what happens next." I looked at him and suddenly laughed. It must have been an ugly sound, because I could feel the muscles in my face twitching beyond my control. "Apologize? "Zane, is that really the kind of person you think I am? You think I'd be so consumed by jealousy that I'd falsely accuse someone of stealing my work?" "Aren't you?" The contempt in his voice was unmistakable. "Haven't you caused enough trouble these past few days? Tessa, what exactly do you want?" What did I want? I wanted fairness. I wanted back what belonged to me. That was all. But to him, everything I did was nothing more than another scene. I drew in a slow breath and forced myself to calm down. Then I walked back to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a thick leather-bound notebook.