Chapter 2
958 Words
Eric had always thought I was just an ordinary office worker.
And honestly, that made sense. What kind of wealthy heiress would hide her identity just to chase after a no-name rookie tennis player?
Well. Turns out I was exactly that kind of fool.
Five years ago, I met him on a tennis court. It was love at first sight.
Eric had just turned eighteen that year. Tall, lean, but not fragile. There was something sharp and restrained about his face, like the quiet before a storm. Even with that cold, distant aura, he was impossible to ignore.
The moment he stepped onto the court, his gray-blue eyes turned razor sharp, like a predator locking onto its target.
And I became the prey that had no chance of escape.
In my world, anything I wanted had always been within reach. But I also knew love was not a transaction you could simply buy and sell.
If you liked someone, you went after them.
So I did.
The next day, the person I had briefly crossed paths with on the court became his assistant. Eric froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard.
I introduced myself generously, told him I admired his talent, and promised I would do my job well.
"Wow, I want a pretty assistant too. Boss, that's favoritism."
"Eric is seriously lucky."
Whistles and teasing voices broke out around us. Eric snapped out of it.
Even though his ears had turned faintly red, he still calmly took my hand.
"Miss Collins, welcome. Looking forward to working with you."
From that moment on, I never missed a single one of Eric's trainings or matches.
At first, I was just doing simple things, handing him water, wiping sweat, occasionally sparring with him.
Gradually, I took over everything, his nutrition, his physical training, his daily schedule, even his recovery plans. I became an inseparable part of his life and career.
And somewhere along the way, our relationship grew naturally, like it had always been meant to happen.
One late night, the tennis club was almost empty, but the lights over the court were still on. A slightly unsteady figure was still practicing serves.
It was Eric, freshly recovered from a fever.
I felt sorry for him, but I also knew his stubbornness was impossible to fight. So I just kept handing him water while muttering under my breath.
"An assistant is only supposed to assist, right? If you want me to listen more obediently, maybe you should consider changing my role..." He set the bottle down and looked straight at me.
"What... role?" For some reason, my mind went completely blank. My heart started racing for no reason.
In my dazed vision, his face slowly leaned closer. Close enough that our breaths tangled.
"Mm..."
After a long, lingering kiss, I felt like my soul had been pulled out of my body. I collapsed weakly against his chest, gasping for air.
"My girlfriend." His voice was low and dangerously attractive.
No one could resist Eric like that.
And I, already completely fallen, never even tried.
When the main investor pulled out, the tennis club nearly collapsed.
I knew Eric would never want to leave the place he grew up in. So I secretly arranged for Carlin to step in and fund the club, saving it at the last moment.
To support his career even further, I spent months studying match footage and eventually earned my USPTA coaching certification.
Before long, Eric not only rose in the domestic scene, but also became a rising star internationally, winning back-to-back Galaxy Open championships.
Naturally, I was proud of him.
Carlin once teased me. "You really have endless energy. Maid, lover, nutritionist, coach. You're basically running his entire life. If you put even half this effort into your own family business, your parents would be thrilled."
I just smiled without replying.
It was hard, yes. But I did it willingly.
Because I believed Eric loved me just as deeply.
With his looks and championship status, Eric attracted millions of fans. Everywhere he went, there were screams, admiration, confessions. But he never responded to any of them.
He stayed disciplined, low-key, and focused on training. And every time he came home, he came straight to me.
We played games, watched movies, listened to music.
He made me feel safe.
Sometimes I even got insecure and asked him directly. "With so many beautiful women confessing to you, you really don't feel anything at all?"
He pulled me into his arms and smirked. "Well, aren't you the one feeding me so well? In bed or at the table, I'm always satisfied."
"Ah." I quickly covered his mouth, my face burning red as I buried myself in his chest.
A low laugh vibrated through him. Then, softly, Eric said, "Baby, you're my lucky star. That's all I need."
Those sweet words still echoed in my ears. But the person who said them had already changed.
No. He hadn't changed.
I was just the one who never saw through his lies.
The one he truly loved was someone else. For that woman, he even pretended to love me for five whole years.
Five years. Not five hours. Not five days. It was over eighteen hundred days. And the love I gave him in all that time was beyond measure.
That kind of pure devotion. He didn't deserve it.
I pulled a velvet gift box from my bag, and didn't even look at it. I threw it straight into the trash can outside the bar and walked away without hesitation.
Inside the box was a custom-made engagement ring. One I had designed myself a long time ago.
Some things, once useless, belong exactly where I put them.
In the trash.
- Writer
