Past Love Chapter 2

After dinner, Wesley accompanied me for a walk along the lake near his family's estate.

When we were kids, I used to sneak out during the hot summer nights to catch tadpoles with him by this very water. Once, I stepped on some slippery moss and tumbled into the deep end. I couldn't swim and began thrashing wildly. It was Wesley who dove in without hesitation and dragged me back to the shore.

I quietly locked my phone. I had just texted my housekeeper, instructing them to sweep our home once more and remove any trace of Phoebe.

"Jas, do you have any photos of us from when we were kids on your phone?" Wesley asked, his tone slightly self-conscious. "I want to see what you looked like back then."

I hesitated for a second before opening my gallery.

"Sure."

Growing up, the heir of the Sinclair family was notorious for his arrogance. He bullied almost every other wealthy kid in our social circle, but he never crossed me. Perhaps it was because I was quiet, or perhaps because I was easily frightened.

Ultimately, I became his little shadow.

Wesley was a massive clean-freak, yet he would share his snacks with me while grumbling about my messy habits. He claimed to detest my lazy attitude, but his bedroom was the only place he ever permitted me to take my afternoon naps.

His favorite thing to do was press his index finger against my forehead, lecturing me with mock exasperation.

"Jasmine Croft, if anyone ever picks on you, you tell me. You hear me?"

I held onto those words for years. But eventually, the person who hurt me the most was him.

The day my family arranged our alliance, I had just returned to the country. Before even unloading my luggage from the car, I ran eagerly into the Sinclair mansion, only to overhear Wesley talking to another girl.

Phoebe was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, looking at him with a provocative smirk.

"It seems the young master of the Sinclair family is just another puppet on a string, unable to even choose who he dates."

Wesley's lips thinned into a tight line. He frowned, his voice dropping.

"Who says I can't choose?"

That very afternoon, I learned that the Sinclairs wanted to call off the engagement. Feeling guilty, his parents paid a formal visit to my family to apologize. Wesley stood at the back of the room.

After high school, we had rarely crossed paths. He went abroad for university, and since I preferred quiet spaces, I often made excuses to skip the social gatherings he attended.

The day we called off the engagement was my first day back in the country, and the day I prepared to let him go.

Wesley looked at me across the crowded room. We stared at each other for a long moment, as if we had truly loved each other once.

His lips parted, but in the end, he only uttered two words.

"I'm sorry."

I smiled and remained silent, offering a quiet, obedient nod.

Love was never something that could be forced. I had learned that lesson long ago.

I scrolled to an old childhood photo and held the phone out to him.

He took it, freezing for a moment before a soft laugh escaped him.

"You were so adorable back then." Wesley pinched my cheek gently. "In this photo, you ruined my birthday cake, but you were still standing there, smiling like an innocent angel."

This time, my face flushed warm.

"I bought you another cake to make up for it," I mumbled in defense.

Wesley chuckled but didn't say anything. He kept scrolling through the album, tracking our journey from kindergarten to middle school.

"You had blunt bangs in middle school. You looked so sweet. Did anyone try to bully you back then? Look at this photo, you're hiding behind me like a shy little bird."

Then, he swiped to the next slide.

It was a candid shot taken by my best friend. I was flashing a peace sign at the camera, while behind me, Wesley was on his phone, completely oblivious. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt; it was taken during our high school graduation ceremony.

Wesley's brow furrowed, his immediate reaction catching me off guard.

"What kind of dress is that? The back is cut way too low." He zoomed in on the photo, his tone dripping with jealousy. "Look at those two guys behind you, they're practically drooling. Are you still in touch with them? Block them immediately."

He kept scrolling, and the screen flashed with the face of a girl he didn't recognize.

Before he could get a proper look, I snatched the phone away.

"Alright, that's enough!" I forced a cheerful laugh. "I was so awkward back then. There's nothing interesting to see."

Wesley frowned, pressing his finger against my forehead.

"Why are you acting like this? Who was that girl? I barely saw her. Are you worried I'll look at someone else?"

He took my hand, intertwining our fingers. His palm was warm and reassuring.

"My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. I've never thought you were awkward. If I did, how could I have loved you for all these years?"

Is that so? I thought.

Would you say the same things if Phoebe were standing here?