Too Late to Love Me

On the day before New Year's Eve, Alora Sheffield wants me to bring her a morning-after pill. Her red lips curve ever so slightly as she takes in my snow-dampened clothes. "What reward would you like for being so obedient?" I ignore her question and hand her the emergency contraceptive. "Here's the morning-after pill you wanted." As Alora takes the box, she reaches under my shirt and runs her hand over my abs. "We may as well get it on just this once, since I'm taking the pill anyway." I gape at her, but a second later, she bursts out laughing. "You should see the look on your face. “I’ve arranged a marriage for you. I raised you, so it’s time you repaid me. “You’ll do as I ask, won’t you?” Chapter 1 I lowered my head and watched Alora Sheffield's pale, delicate fingertips graze my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She still smelled like liquor, and her delicate neck was covered in purplish-red hickeys. Soft and obliging, I wrapped a blanket around her cold shoulders. "I'll do as you ask." Alora laughed so hard that she couldn't catch her breath. "Oh, gosh, you make a good lap dog." I pretended not to understand the implication of those words. I made sure she took the pill, then turned and grabbed the cooling, soothing ointment from the medicine cabinet. She rubbed the top of my head and let me touch her body over and over. She didn't like it when others left marks on her body, but she'd sometimes get so caught up in the moment that she'd forget. So I learned how to apply ointment and give massages, allowing her to maintain her usual formidable image as Ms. Sheffield the next morning. Alora was fast asleep by the time I finished applying the ointment. I quietly picked up the clothes littered across the floor. She tended to be this uninhibited whenever she met a man who suited her taste. Dawn was beginning to break by the time I’d done the laundry and made a hangover tonic. I sat on the couch and quietly waited for Alora to wake up. There was something particularly endearing about her when she slept and let her guard down. Alora, true to her name, looked perfectly at peace in her sleep. Despite her bold, carefree laughter, there was always an exhaustion in her eyes that never seemed to fade. Then again, behind the glamor lay the countless days and nights of hardship she'd endured to survive and reign in the brutal world of business at such a young age. My thoughts rose and fell along with her breathing. She hadn't said a word about it, but I'd already sensed the recent shift in her behavior. She’d become unusually agitated and often seemed distracted. She didn’t even notice right away when there was an error in the figures in a report. She’d gone through one outfit after another in her wardrobe, but none of them seemed to satisfy her. It wasn't hard for me to get my hands on Alora's schedule, which was how I ended up seeing two familiar words—Logan Fuller. Alora's first love, Logan, would return from Amerulea tomorrow night. I'd been with Alora for seven years. I knew Logan was the only one who could stir up such intense emotions in her. The man who once had her had always come first in her life, while I wasn't even worthy of an explanation. Alora rolled onto her side, clinging to the blanket as she muttered something in her sleep. I tucked her in and saw the tears glistening under her lashes. Even then, a small, sweet smile tugged on her lips. Her alarm went off ten minutes later. She was never grumpy upon waking. She merely sat on the bed in a daze for a moment before getting up. She was already seated across the table when I brought her a hot bowl of hangover tonic. Alora had casually slipped into her loungewear, the loose neckline resting against her collarbone. It was only at times like this that she didn’t seem so far out of reach. She absentmindedly stirred the soup in her bowl, her gaze drifting toward me every now and then. After a long pause, she took out a black card and slid it toward me. Chapter 2 "Elliot, you've been with me since you were 18. Naturally, I'll take care of you. You're free to do whatever you want in life," Alora said. When she told me she'd take care of me, I wondered if she meant the address of the romantic set-up she'd sent to my inbox, or the black card she'd presented me. I knew there was enough money on the card to keep me fed and clothed for the rest of my life, just as I knew a person in my shoes had no reason to refuse it. After all, it seemed only justified for a lover like me to take the money and leave in peace. Alora was smiling at me. She didn't care at all if I took the card or not. She'd given it to me, and my choice made no difference to her. A self-deprecating laugh escaped me as I met her gaze. "You don't have to pay me to leave. I won't give you any trouble." I'd already packed up my stuff before Alora left. I had only a few items of clothing to my name, and even using a suitcase felt like overkill. I'd been with Alora since I was 18, and at 25, I had nothing but seven years of heartache to show for it. … Much like Alora, I fell hopelessly in love with the person I met at 18. She met Logan at 18, and I met her at the same age. We fell in love with someone so captivating and bewitching that it'd take us the rest of our lives to forget them. At 18, I was caught up in my search for a point in living. I'd grown up in an orphanage and gone through three foster families within a decade.When my last pair of adoptive parents passed away, I was on my own again. I inherited their house along with their debts. I sold everything I could, save for the house. I put it up for sale on a secondhand property marketplace, but it garnered little to no interest. So, I ended up working at a construction site during the day, and waiting tables at a barbecue joint at night. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life working dead-end jobs; I wanted to go to school and learn. Alas, I was forced to admit how small and powerless I was in the face of reality. I slaved away the entire summer, but the money I made was only enough to cover one-tenth of my adoptive parents' debts. While my classmates were having dilemmas over which laptops to buy before school reopened, I was fretting over the 500 dollars I'd need for schoolbooks. I was struggling to choose between school and work when my already-malnourished body finally broke down in protest. Late one night, I'd just arrived at my front door when I collapsed. My forehead struck the doorstep, and my blood pooled on the ground. I passed out and lay on the ground for a long while until someone on their morning jog discovered me. He panicked and was about to dial 911 when I finally came to. I summoned all my strength and forced myself to my feet. "Thank you. I'm fine." An ambulance ride would cost me about 400 dollars, but a bottle of glucose solution from the drugstore would set me back only four dollars. The morning jogger left looking bewildered. He probably found me odd. I rinsed the blood that had dried and caked over my forehead, then stumbled back home. I opened the door to find the creditors standing in the living room, though they might have sat down if I hadn't sold the only couch. They held baseball bats and eyed me with blatant contempt. "Hey, brat. Didn't your parents leave you anything when they died?" I stood in place, wordless, as I dug the six-dollar change from the drugstore out of my pocket and handed it to them. The man leading them scowled, spat on the floor, and swore under his breath. The next second, his baseball bat came down hard on me. I wrapped my arms around my head and dropped to my knees, wishing I would be dead by the next time they came over. That night, I was on my way to end my life when I met Alora, who'd been smoking on the bridge. She was 20 at the time, but she'd already finished business school abroad. Alora and I were from two different worlds, but she called out to me as I swung my legs over and sat on the bridge rail. Chapter 3 Alora snubbed her cigarette and asked in a particularly detached tone, "So, why do you want to die?" I took in her neatly styled hair, delicate makeup, obviously expensive ensemble, and dazzling high heels. She did the same with me—appraising my loose, threadbare short-sleeved shirt with stains that could never be washed out, and the broken-soled canvas shoes on my feet. A soft chuckle escaped her. "You just need money, right? I can give it to you." She fished a couple of cards from her purse and tossed them at my feet like trash. "There, I've given you money, so what can I expect from you in return? You've got a pretty face. You can repay me with yourself." Alora angled her head to the side as she stood under the hazy moonlight, looking brighter than the moon itself. She took me back to her place that same night. She told me that if I did as I was told, she'd give me everything I wanted. From that day on, I willingly followed Alora and became her secret lover. Alora made good on her word and settled my debts. She gave me enough money to pay for college and even arranged an internship for me at her company after I graduated. There was only one thing I had to remember at all times: my place. We respected each other's boundaries of our relationship. We were intimate in bed but strangers outside of it. I was not the only lover Alora kept. I'd always known that. Her other lovers came and went, but somehow, I was the one who stayed by her the longest. Alora said I had ambition, and she liked men with ambition. Little did she know that my only ambition had always been her. Countless times, as I watched her lose herself beneath me, I realized with painful clarity that I had grown greedy. I wanted her to love me. … As agreed, I arrived at the cafe to meet the date Alora had set me up with. I waited for a long time, and it wasn't until most of the customers had left that the young woman finally showed up. She was wearing a miniskirt and heavy makeup. She shoved past a waiter and sat down across from me. I looked up and asked a waiter to replace my latte, which had long since gone cold. "You could have just told me if you were only doing this to get your family off your back." When I lifted my gaze, the contemptuous expression on the young woman’s face froze. "Elliot? Elliot Dugray?" She immediately peeled the false lashes from her eyes. When she looked at me again, there was a hint of bashfulness in her expression. Gemma? The heiress of the Larson family. Alora really had treated me well—she’d found me another powerful family to rely on. But other than that, I couldn’t remember having any connection with Gemma. "I'm sorry…" Gemma's eyes darkened. "I'm your junior. We both took art appreciation as our elective. I used to sit behind you all the time. I even borrowed your notes once. Wait, I thought you said you were seeing someone at the time." Back in college, I had indeed told people I was in a relationship to discourage anyone who was interested in me. But now, with my “girlfriend” having personally arranged this date for me, those words sounded especially bitter. I smiled, neither confirming nor denying. As if sensing something, Gemma quietly stirred the coffee in front of her. “When Alora told me about the date, I didn’t expect it to be you. After all, you two never seemed close.” I composed myself. I thought anyone who knew Alora would know of my existence. When I looked up again, my tone had turned distant. “We really aren’t close. I simply work at Ms. Sheffield’s company.” Gemma smiled. There was nothing hostile about her smile, though it looked a little comical with such heavy makeup. "Let's follow each other on Instagram, Elliot. We can make plans over DMs next time." Chapter 4 I didn't turn Gemma down. The weather had grown chilly by the time we left the cafe. Clad only in her miniskirt, Gemma rubbed her arms to warm herself. "Could you walk me home, Elliot?" I was a little taken aback, but I glanced at her shivering shoulders and said, "Come on, then." Gemma's place wasn't too far from my apartment. After I took her home, she asked me to wait downstairs. When she returned, she was holding a slice of cake. "It's my birthday today." I didn't take sweet treats because Alora didn't, but when I saw the tentative, expectant look in Gemma's eyes, I graciously accepted the cake. Upon returning to my apartment, I was surprised to find Alora waiting for me on the couch. When she looked at me, the smile in her eyes felt forced. "How was the blind date today, Elliot?" I put the cake in the fridge and resisted the urge to straighten her mussed hair. Logan was meant to come home from Amerulea today. The fact that Alora was here already told me something. At the very least, Logan hadn't come back as scheduled. "Is something wrong, Alora?" She responded by kissing me passionately. She'd never taken charge like this before, and for a moment, I lost myself too. I carried her into the bedroom, which still smelled like her favorite scent. As usual, she scattered her clothes everywhere. I had no idea why Alora was here to see me, only that she needed me now. She'd chosen me because I was young and content with what I had. We spent the night tangled in the sheets. It was only when her phone rang that she seemingly snapped out of her daze and left my embrace. She picked up the call, and her face immediately lit up with a faint smile. She hinted at me to keep quiet, then pulled on her dressing robe and padded toward the living room. I lay in bed, my arms still open as if waiting to embrace her. A bitter laugh bubbled up my throat. I knew the kind of woman Alora was, so why did I still fall in love with her over and over again? I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and booked myself a plane ticket to Frinsor. The month before, I’d received an acceptance letter from a school in Pareus. But because of Alora, I hadn’t gotten around to turning it down. Now, everything seemed to have fallen into place. Perhaps Alora had forgotten the time she got drunk and told me about her romantic history with Logan in Pareus. I’d buried my face in the crook of her neck and quietly told her that I wanted to visit Pareus someday too. Now, I finally had the chance to see the city that held the memories of her youth. … Alora left, as expected. She'd resumed her usual cool indifference and tossed me a set of car keys before she left. “They’re yours.” It was both a gift and payment for my silence. "I won't be needing them." It was the first time I'd refused her gift. She cocked a brow and eyed the keys that fell on the floor. “What is this? Are you upset with me?” She caressed the vivid kiss mark near my collar and teased, “Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen in love with me, Elliot. You know our relationship is purely transactional.” I opened my mouth to say something, only to smile bitterly in the end. I understood the warning in her tone, but she underestimated my love for her. How could I bring myself to ruin the happiness she'd been waiting for? “Safe travels.” I kissed her on the forehead like I always did, my lips brushing the strands of hair that framed her face. Alora lay on my chest, her lashes fluttering. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was Monday, and I headed to work at the company as usual. I would hand in my resignation that day and leave Alora’s life for good. Leaving her undisturbed was my final blessing. However, Alora didn’t show up for the regular Monday meeting. Chapter 5 Everyone was discussing who might have held Alora back. After all, she was the iron figure who'd shown up for every meeting without fail over the years. She finally arrived when the meeting was nearing its end, accompanied by a man in a suit. I could tell right away that the man was none other than Logan. Alora was grinning from ear to ear as she introduced everyone to Logan. "This is Mr. Fuller. He'll be one of us from today onward." Logan had graduated with honors from a business school abroad and boasted top-tier professional skills. He looked like the perfect match for Alora as they stood side by side. Some of my co-workers recognized Logan from the picture Alora kept on her desk and immediately burst into loud, enthusiastic applause. Everyone teased Alora and tried to pry more information out of her, but she smiled through it all. A few others glanced at me. I'd been with Alora for seven years, and anyone could tell that my relationship with her was unusual. But under the circumstances, no one was going to say anything. Everyone naturally assumed it was nothing more than one-sided love on the part of a poor young man like me. I didn’t deny it. It was the truth, after all. Logan's gaze swept over me, betraying no emotion. He never cared about the lovers Alora kept over the years, or he wouldn't have waited until now to come home from abroad. He had an instinctive trust in their bond. Aside from being lovers, they had once been evenly matched partners fighting side by side. Alora and Logan left together after the meeting. She linked arms with him and leaned on his shoulder. A dazzling smile I'd never seen before bloomed across her face. The head of human resources looked shocked when he received my resignation notice. "Elliot, you're a hard worker. You'll have a bright future here with us. You and Ms. Sheffield may have had some disagreements, but you should think this through.” He put it tactfully, but I understood what he was implying. After all the years I'd spent warming Alora's bed, I should know what was expected of a lover and do everything I could to secure more for myself. What need did a poor man like me have for pride? I made no reply and simply left my notice on his desk. I didn’t have many things at my workstation. The only thing displayed prominently was a collection of figurines. When blind boxes had been all the rage, my classmates were always discussing them, so I’d asked a friend to order a whole set from abroad for me. Before I could give it to Alora, however, I noticed the latest diamond tennis bracelet dangling from her wrist. On the back of its charm was a delicately engraved letter “F.” I opened the blind boxes and displayed the figurines on my desk. They were nothing more than cheap resin trinkets, hardly presentable enough to give to someone like her. They served as a constant reminder that Alora and I were from two different worlds. My resignation would be reviewed and approved by the end of the week. Once I completed the handover next week, I’d be free to leave. My heart tightened painfully. I was tearing away the love I’d held onto for Alora all these years. How was I supposed to forget you, Alora? … Gemma texted me again, inviting me to an art exhibition on Sunday. She’d often texted me and asked me to go out with her since our date, but I had politely turned her down every time. This time, perhaps because I knew I would soon be leaving, I agreed. Gemma sent me an animated sticker of a nodding kitten. She was weird like that. Alora hadn't sought me out the last few days. She'd already erased me from her world. Still, I came across her Facebook updates from time to time. From the looks of it, she and Logan had moved in together and even met each other's parents. Everything seemed to be falling naturally into place. On Alora’s Facebook profile, there was a pinned post she had shared on the day Logan returned from abroad. Chapter 6 "He's home. I'll finally have someone who'll love me." I stared at the short sentence and felt my heart cleave in two. To Alora, the only love that mattered was Logan's, and he was the only person who would let her stay her 18-year-old of herself. In the same way, whenever I saw Alora, I would remember who I had been seven years ago—a young man with nothing to his name. At the art exhibition on Sunday, Gemma showed up in a long, pale blue dress that made her look a little older. The moment she saw me, however, she grinned and revealed two small canine teeth, looking as innocent as ever. She'd grown up pampered but but didn’t have the temper of a spoiled heiress. We entered the exhibition hall and made our way past the many artworks on display. She had a solid grounding in art and was able to comment on every painting. When we arrived at the final piece, I spotted the artist’s signature in the bottom-right corner of the canvas—Gem. Gemma pointed at the art on the wall, her face shining with pride. “I painted this in college.” The painting depicted a seemingly endless sea reflecting the glow of the setting sun, with a lone boat floating quietly on the water. At first glance, it spoke of hope, for the boat was facing the light. But on closer inspection, it conveyed a profound sense of loneliness. No matter how bright and wonderful the future might be, it had nothing to do with you. Gemma grew serious. She seemed to feel something through the painting. "When I was in college, I fell in love with someone. He was such a dazzling, and he made my heart race like no one else. I collected every piece of information I could find about him and desperately tried to enter his world.” She turned to look at me then. "But one day, I found out that his heart already belonged to someone else. I only wanted him to be happy.” Her eyes had grown misty, but a smile still curved her lips. "I wish him only happiness, Elliot." Silly Gemma, I thought. How could I not understand what she meant? I'd already seen through her the moment she clumsily peeled off those ridiculous false lashes in the cafe. She looked at me the same way I looked at Alora. “Gemma, maybe the person you love doesn’t deserve your love.” “But I only want to love him.” She lifted her chin with newfound resolve, her unfocused gaze drifting past me. I pulled out a tissue and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Sometimes, an answer that missed the point was the clearest answer of all. Gemma choked back a sob. She took the tissue, which was still warm from my touch, and stood there in a daze. "Gemma?" Alora’s voice suddenly rang out behind me. I stiffened for a moment, but she remained perfectly composed. She walked around us and stopped in front of me, her left hand clasped in Logan’s, their fingers intertwined. "What a coincidence," she smiled, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. Gemma frantically dried her tears and came to stand beside me. She greeted Alora warmly, "Alora, is this your future husband?" Logan glanced at Gemma and me before lowering his head and looking at Alora tenderly. “Not yet, but I will be soon.” Gemma clapped her hands mercilessly. “Wow! Congratulations!” I was quiet throughout their exchange. Gemma might be naive, but even she could sense something was amiss. She gave an awkward laugh and pulled me away. “Alora, we’ll get going now.” Alora stopped her. Ignoring the awkward atmosphere, she insisted on treating us to a meal. At the table, the four of us stared at one another, and the atmosphere became painfully awkward.