Soaked in disappointment

Olivia's POV

The rain poured relentlessly, soaking me to the bone. My hair clung to my face in damp strands, and the chill seeped through my thin coat. I stood there, arms wrapped around myself, staring at the dimly lit office building. Somewhere inside, Christopher was probably leaning back in his leather chair, oblivious to the storm raging outside—or the one raging within me.

He didn't even look at me. Not once.

I had spent hours setting up the perfect scene. The flowers, the candles—everything meticulously planned, all to help him create a romantic moment for her. Jessy. Of course, it was always Jessy. Yet here I was, drenched and shivering like a fool, hoping for some scrap of acknowledgment.

The office door creaked open, and there he was, stepping out into the rain as if the weather had no power over him. His sharp suit remained pristine under the shelter of his umbrella. He barely glanced my way as he handed me a small box.

"Here," he said curtly, before turning on his heel and walking off.

I stared at the box in my trembling hands, my heart lurching. It wasn't much, but it was *something.* The first time he'd ever given me anything. My fingers fumbled with the ribbon, the cold making them clumsy. When I finally opened it, the contents took my breath away—a diamond ring, gleaming even in the muted light. It was exquisite, the kind of ring that could buy a small island.

My lips parted in disbelief. I ran my thumb over the smooth band, the glittering stone catching my eye. "Christopher..." I whispered, my voice swallowed by the rain.

For a moment, I let myself believe. My heart raced as the possibilities swirled through my mind. Was this for me? Had he finally noticed? After all the late nights, the endless errands, the quiet sacrifices—was this his way of saying he cared?

I slipped the ring onto my finger, my hands trembling. It was tight, just a fraction too small. A laugh bubbled up from my chest, soft and incredulous. "Oh, Christopher," I murmured to myself, "you bought me a ring without even knowing my size."

The thought felt absurd, yet strangely endearing. I turned the ring on my finger, marveling at how it caught the faint light. For the first time in what felt like forever, my chest swelled with something like hope.

Then my phone buzzed, jolting me out of the moment. I scrambled to answer, my wet hands slipping on the screen.

"Ms. Deeva," Christopher's voice came through, clipped and commanding, as always.

A small, secret smile tugged at my lips. Did he know I was wearing the ring right now? "Yes, sir," I replied, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Did you receive the ring?"

My heart skipped a beat. This was it—the moment I'd been dreaming of for so long. I could barely keep the tremor out of my voice as I answered, "Yes, I did."

There was a pause on the line, and I held my breath, the anticipation nearly unbearable. Was he calling to ask me to be his girlfriend? To confess something he'd been holding back all this time? If that was the case, the answer was already a resounding *yes.*

But then his voice came again, colder this time. "Good. Send it to Jessica Shawn."

It felt like a slap. The air was knocked out of my lungs, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

"Excuse me?" I managed to choke out, though I already knew I hadn't misheard him.

"The ring," he repeated, his tone sharp and impatient. "Deliver it to Jessica before 4:30."

The call ended with a click, leaving only the sound of rain and the hollow ache in my chest.

I stared at the phone in disbelief, the weight of his words sinking in. Of course. Of course, the ring wasn't for me. It was for Jessy. Just like everything else. The late-night coffee runs, the endless errands, the last-minute favors—it was always for *her.*

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I looked down at the ring, now mocking me from where it sat snug on my finger. "It's always Jessy," I muttered, my voice thick with frustration. "Send this to Jessy. Do this for Jessy. Jessy this, Jessy that."

I yanked the ring off my finger and stuffed it back into the velvet-lined box, my hands trembling. The rain outside mirrored the storm inside me, each drop hammering against the window like a cruel reminder of my insignificance in his eyes.

The phone buzzed again, and this time his voice was sharper, more urgent.

"Ms. Deeva," he barked, "I said deliver it by 4:30. Don't make me repeat myself."

I glanced at the clock on the screen—3:58 p.m. Panic mixed with resentment as I realized the impossible situation he'd just thrown me into. How did he expect me to deliver it in this weather, with barely enough time to even leave my apartment?

"Yes, sir," I replied through gritted teeth, forcing the words out even as they burned on my tongue.

The call ended, and I slumped against the wall, the box clutched tightly in my hand. My reflection stared back at me from the rain-streaked window—a disheveled mess of wet hair, smeared mascara, and hollow eyes.

"How much longer, Olivia?" I whispered to myself. "How much longer are you going to do this?"

I pulled my coat tighter around me and grabbed my bag, shoving the ring box inside. There was no time to dwell on the hurt, no time to feel sorry for myself. Christopher had given me an order, and like always, I would obey.

But as I stepped out into the rain, my chest heavy with unspoken words, I couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see me—*really* see me. Or if I was destined to remain in the shadows, forever the one who delivered his love to someone else.

The rain soaked through my clothes again, but this time, I didn't bother to shield myself. The cold didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.