Upon hearing what Cora just said, William’s heart tightened in his chest, and his face twitched ever so slightly—but he caught himself quickly.
He could feel the wave of anger rising, threatening to cloud his thoughts, but years of dealing with rejection, of being misunderstood and judged before explaining himself, had taught him how to bury his emotions deep down and wear a mask like a second skin.
He stood there, surrounded by the soft scent of crushed rose petals, with staff watching and recording the mont like so rom-com gone horribly wrong. The bouquet still lay awkwardly at his feet, petals scattered around his shoes like fallen pride. And yet, Cora stood in front of him, unmoved, unaffected.
Her words echoed louder than the silent stares around them.
"Before I open my eyes, I don’t want to see you here."
But it wasn’t just the words. It was the way she said it, the coldness, the disgust in her eyes—as if he was filth, as if the gesture he thought would lt her heart was instead sothing shaful.
He clenched his jaw, his smile strained now, forced but steady.
Deep down, he knew who had polluted her mind.
Oliver, that na alone now felt like poison to his soul. He couldn’t prove it yet, but his gut was screaming. It had to be Oliver. That righteous, quiet, picture-perfect man who always appeared just when Cora needed soone. The one who played humble, innocent, respectful, the one who never overstepped. William could almost laugh. That type of man always got worshipped in the end.
And him? He was the one that won like Cora avoided.
He rembered clearly, he had told his family multiple tis that he was willing to change for her. He had stopped doing things that would upset her. He had stayed away when she asked, respected her boundaries, cleaned up his act. He wasn’t the William of before. That man was gone. Buried.
But still, she looked at him like garbage.
Other won, he was sure of it would’ve lted with just the roses alone. So would’ve cried, hugged him, kissed him right there. But not Cora.
She didn’t even flinch, It was as if all his effort ant nothing. Like all his humanity was wasted on soone who had already decided he wasn’t worth it.
And that, that made his blood boil beneath the skin.
But he didn’t shout. He didn’t argue. He didn’t break the silence.
He just smiled, a smile that carried every piece of anger, humiliation, and bruised ego he was holding back.
And with a quiet, controlled tone, he looked straight into Cora’s eyes,
Then William took a small step back, hands calmly folded in front of him, the bouquet now resting awkwardly at his side. He saw the way Cora glared at him, her posture straight and strong like a shield built from years of learning not to trust too easily. Her eyes weren’t just angry, they were exhausted. That kind of tiredness didn’t co from one bad mont.
He could sense that sothing else was going on.
Sothing deeper.
And maybe just maybe he had walked in at the wrong ti, with a forced chuckle, William broke the silence again, trying to soften the tension.
"It seems you’re angry, Cora," he said, his voice calm but low, "and... maybe sothing’s troubling you today. Maybe I ca at the wrong ti."
He nodded slightly, acknowledging her emotions even if he didn’t fully understand them.
"And I can understand that," he continued. "I can understand the way you’re treating right now. I’ve made mistakes—I know that. But this... this isn’t about the flowers, or the crowd, or the show. It’s about you. You, Cora."
At that mont he stepped forward just a little, not enough to invade her space but just enough to make her hear the weight in his words.
"I’m going to co back, maybe next ti, with sothing better. Maybe not with roses or surprises, but with sothing real... sothing that will show you I’m not here to play gas."
His eyes locked with hers, voice now steadier, filled with sothing honest, maybe desperation, maybe hope.
"I’ve told you this before, and I’ll keep saying it. I want to win you over. I want to be by your side, no matter how long it takes. I’m not backing away just because you shouted at or told to leave. I’m stronger than that. I can take the heat."
Then he took a breath, his heart racing underneath the cool exterior.
"I’m willing to go through fire for you, Cora. I’ll fight for you if I have to. I’ll do anything just to put a smile on your face. Please, all I’m asking for... is an opportunity to prove that I an every word I’ve said."
Again william opened his mouth, his lips parting to offer one last sentence sothing soft, sothing hopeful but he never got the chance.
Cora, whose eyes had burned with growing fire, suddenly lifted her hand and cut through the air sharply, halting him mid-thought.
"That’s enough, William," she said with a tone so sharp it could slice through bone. Her voice was steady, but it carried the weight of finality, the weight of disappointnt.
Imdiately William’s smile faltered.
Cora took a step forward, not out of affection, not out of care, but with purpose, her presence towering in a way that made even the staff watching from the distance hold their breath.
"If not because of the respect I have for Oliver... and your fathers," she said slowly, her words laced with disgust, "I swear to you, William, I would have dealt with you seriously."
Cora words made William blinked. He hadn’t expected that.
"You’re not even ashad of yourself," Cora continued. "You should look at and see a little sister. Soone you’re ant to guide and protect. Soone you’re ant to look out for. But instead, you’re standing here... looking for a way into my life like so desperate teenager."
Her voice didn’t tremble. There was no hesitation in her body. She was disgusted.
"I’m disappointed in you, William. Deeply."
She paused, the silence between them thick and suffocating.
"And do you know what? I’m going to pretend like this never happened. That all of this," she gestured toward the roses, the bouquet, the people recording in the background, "never existed. I’m going to pretend that every word you’ve said was never heard. Not by . Not by anyone."
William’s face hardened, but Cora didn’t give him room to speak.
"I’m saying this again," she said, her voice cold and firm, "nothing absolutely nothing, is going to happen between us. Not now. Not ever."
She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice just enough that only he could hear her next words.
"And I’m using this mont to warn you, respect yourself, William. Respect the boundaries I’ve clearly drawn. If not..."
At that mont, Cora narrowed her eyes at William and paused briefly in her steps. She didn’t want to say more. She had already said enough. But the fire in her heart still burned as she turned her head slightly, just enough for her voice to reach him without facing him fully.
"You know what, William?" she said coolly. "I’ll keep what I was about to say to myself. But you better not push to the point where I’ll be forced to take action against you."
The warning was heavy, and everyone who stood around watching could feel the shift in the air. Even the whispers among the staff had gone quiet. The rose petals on the ground seed to lose their color in the face of Cora’s icy tone.
Without another word, Cora began walking away, her heels hitting the pavent with quiet but firm purpose. The elegance in her steps, the authority in her stride, and the fire radiating off her body as she left the bouquet behind... It was more powerful than anything she could have scread.
Her back to William, her pride unshaken, she left him standing there, alone, with nothing but petals at his feet and sha rising in his chest.
At that mont William clenched his jaw, for a mont, he stood still, feeling the eyes of everyone on him, the staff who once admired the surprise now silently judging, and walking away.
The rejection had been brutal, but what made it worse was how utterly unfazed Cora was by the whole thing. She didn’t stumble, she didn’t break. She didn’t even raise her voice.
And that made him furious.
He knew this had been the perfect opportunity. All the planning, all the timing, it was supposed to lt her heart, make her see he was serious. But no. Instead, she humiliated him without even shouting. That made it worse.
He could still hear her words echoing in his head: "You should look at like a sister..."
It disgusted him.
Why should he see her as a sister? They weren’t related. She was a grown woman. Old enough to be married and she had once be married, old enough to make her own decisions. And he had made it clear: he wanted her.
So why pretend?
User Comments
0 comments from readers