ANNA’S POV

"Anna, where are you? Did you hear the news?" Clara's voice buzzed through the phone, thrilled.

I pressed the phone to my ear, frowning. Clara was my colleague at the pharma company, and she only called when something huge went down.

“What news?” I asked, wiping my hands on my apron. The smell of baking lingered on my fingers. It was my day off from Greenleaf Pharmaceutical, so I was manning my modest cake stand, watching cars zoom past, praying someone would pull over before the goods went cold.

“James just scored a promotion and a massive bonus!” Clara shrieked. “Rumor has it Davenport Group approved the new formula he submitted, and the company is throwing a ceremony for him.”

I froze. My heart hammered, drowning out the traffic. My throat went dry.

The drug.

I swallowed hard. “Clara… you mean the one I developed…?”

“Yes,” she cut in, her voice dropping. “The one you created. But he slapped his name on the file, right? So naturally, he's taking all the credit.”

I leaned against the wooden counter, my chest tight. I had pulled all-nighters for five years, pouring my soul into that formula. James had talked me into using his name to make it look "official." He claimed the brass wouldn't take an assistant seriously.

He had promised. He swore that once he climbed the ladder, he'd propose, and we'd build a future. He said we were a team.

A huge smile broke out on my face, even though Clara couldn't see it. “Oh my God! This is great, right? If he’s moving up, our plans are falling into place.”

Silence hung on the line. Clara hesitated. “Anna… just watch your back. Sometimes guys..."

“I trust him,” I snapped, cutting her off. My voice cracked, but I swallowed it down. “He’s doing this for us.”

After I hung up, I stared into space. My tiny stand looked pathetic, with its cracked table and faded umbrella shielding me from the sun. But my heart was racing with excitement. This was it. James had finally made the big leagues.

Soon, he'd make good on his word. Soon, I'd be more than just a girl slinging cakes as a side hustle to fund a dream wedding with the man I loved.

“Excuse me, how much for one?”

The voice snapped me back to reality. A young lady in a suit was eyeing the cakes. I straightened up.

“Five bucks,” I said, bagging one up. My hands were shaking, fueled purely by happiness.

She handed over the cash, and I grinned until my cheeks hurt. “Here, take another on the house. A little bonus.”

Her brows shot up. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I laughed. “Today is a special day.”

She smiled, nodded, and walked away. I couldn't care less about the lost profit. My heart was full.

I packed up in record time, tying boxes and shoving trays into the back of my beat-up car. The door groaned, and the engine coughed before finally sputtering to life.

“Come on, don’t embarrass me today,” I muttered, patting the dashboard.

The drive to Greenleaf felt endless, but I didn't care. My chest swelled with pride. My James. The man I loved, the man I had sacrificed everything for, was finally getting his flowers. Tonight could be the night he pops the question. And then, I could finally reveal my big secret.

Our secret.

When I pulled into the lot, I had to park way in the back. The place was packed with shiny cars and expensive suits. My clunker stuck out like a sore thumb.

I stepped out, smoothing my cheap dress. My palms were sweaty, but I clutched my tiny handbag and hustled toward the crowd. A decorated podium sat out front. Cameras flashed, reporters swarmed, and employees clapped. And right in the center of the madness stood James.

My heart skipped.

He wore a crisp suit—the one I bought him last week. His hair looked flawless, his smile charming. Beside him stood his mother, beaming with pride, clutching his arm like she owned him.

I waved frantically. “James!” I hollered, shoving through the crowd. “James, it’s me!”

He didn't even glance my way. His eyes swept the crowd, smiling at everyone but me. I waved again, louder. “James!”

Nothing.

Heads started turning. Strangers frowned and whispered. My cheeks burned. Maybe he just didn't see me in the sea of people. Maybe he had stage fright. Yes, that had to be it.

Then came the speech.

The crowd hushed as he stepped up to the mic. My hands shook. I bit my lip, heart pounding. This was it. He was going to claim me. He was going to call me his backbone, his rock, his reason for success.

He cleared his throat, his voice booming. “This promotion isn't just mine. It belongs to someone who has been my backbone, my inspiration, my strength. Someone who believed in me when the world turned its back.”

I smiled so hard tears pricked my eyes. My fingers squeezed my bag. This was my moment. The world would finally know.

He paused, and then—

“Melissa.”

The name hit me like a ton of bricks. My smile froze. My blood ran cold.

For a split second, I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.

No. It couldn’t be. Melissa was my best friend. She had moved abroad two years ago for grad school. We had drifted, but I still stalked her socials. She wasn’t supposed to be back.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. A tall woman in a red dress stepped forward. I blinked hard, praying my eyes were deceiving me. But they weren't. It was her.

Melissa.

Her hair was longer, her skin flawless, her smile completely unbothered. She glided up the stage, and James grabbed her hand like it was his lifeline.

James's eyes softened. “You’ve always been my true love,” he murmured into the mic. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Before my brain could even process the nightmare, he dropped to one knee, dead center of the stage.

A velvet box materialized in his hand, revealing a diamond that blinded under the spotlights.

“Melissa,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “Will you marry me?”