Chapter 6: Not for Sale

Monday morning, I walked into the headquarters of the bridal company with my portfolio under one arm.

I had barely slept the night before.

Not because of Anton.

For the first time in years, he wasn't the reason I was awake.

I had spent most of the night revising my presentation, checking fabric costs, adjusting production estimates, and refining the designs I intended to pitch.

Hector had kept his word.

He hadn't called me.

He hadn't sent anyone to coach me.

He hadn't even told the judging panel that he knew me personally.

When I entered the conference room, he was already seated at the far end of the table with four executives.

He glanced at me once.

"Ms. Vale. You have thirty minutes."

Nothing in his expression suggested that I had spent the weekend at his estate.

I appreciated that.

I connected my laptop and began.

The first few minutes were terrifying.

Then I stopped seeing Hector.

I stopped seeing the executives.

I saw only my work.

These were designs I had spent years creating in bedrooms, cafés, airport lounges, and empty apartments while waiting for Anton to come home.

For years, I had treated my career like something that had to fit around his life.

Not anymore.

When I finished, the room remained silent for several seconds.

One of the directors leaned forward.

"You originally submitted this collection six months ago?"

"An earlier version, yes."

"And it was rejected before reaching the creative department?"

"That's what I was told."

He exchanged a glance with another executive.

"That shouldn't have happened."

Hector tapped his pen against the table.

"We're evaluating the proposal in front of us, not apologizing for previous management."

The director nodded.

Questions followed.

I answered every one.

When I finally walked out of the room, my palms were damp, but I felt lighter than I had in years.

Hector emerged fifteen minutes later.

"Congratulations."

I stared at him.

"Already?"

"It was unanimous."

"Including you?"

"I abstained."

That surprised me.

"Why?"

"Because if I voted for you, you'd spend the next six months wondering whether you earned it."

He handed me a folder.

"Now you don't have to wonder."

Inside was an offer to lead a limited bridal collection under my own name.

My fingers trembled.

"Hector..."

"Don't thank me. Make money."

I laughed.

"You really know how to ruin a moment."

"It's a gift."

Before I could answer, the elevator doors opened.

Anton stepped out.

The smile disappeared from my face.

He looked terrible.

His shirt was wrinkled, there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, and the man who had always appeared perfectly composed now looked as though he hadn't slept since the wedding.

His gaze immediately dropped to the folder in my hands.

"So it's true."

Hector moved slightly closer to me.

Anton noticed.

"I'm talking to Emilia."

Hector's expression remained indifferent.

"Then perhaps Emilia should decide whether she wants to talk to you."

Anton looked at me.

"Five minutes."

"No."

His jaw tightened.

"Emilia."

"I have work."

"You didn't have work here until Hector gave it to you."

I slowly closed the folder.

"I earned this position."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then choose your words better."

Anton rubbed his forehead.

"Fine. I came because I want to fix this."

"There's nothing to fix."

"Ten years, Emilia."

"You keep saying that like ten years is evidence in your favor."

He fell silent.

"You wasted ten years of my life and now you're using the length of that waste as a reason I should give you more."

"I didn't waste them."

"Then tell me what we were waiting for."

Anton opened his mouth.

I continued before he could answer.

"We were engaged for years. Every time I asked about our wedding, you were busy. Yet Lina needed a groom nine times and somehow your schedule cleared immediately."

"Those weddings weren't real."

"Neither was our engagement, apparently."

His face changed.

"Don't say that."

"Why?"

I reached beneath my blouse and touched the empty place where the engagement ring had once hung.

"You bought me a ring that didn't even fit because you couldn't spare enough time to find out my size. But you knew Lina's exact size."

"Emilia—"

"You knew which gowns suited her. You knew how she liked her makeup. You knew how to calm her when she cried. You knew how important her weddings were."

I smiled faintly.

"You knew everything about being Lina's groom."

"I was doing it because of your promise to her."

"Stop blaming me for choices you enjoyed making."

Anton went still.

Hector said nothing.

He didn't need to.

"I heard you in the dressing room," I said.

Anton's face slowly lost its color.

"What?"

"Before Lina opened the door on the morning of the wedding."

I repeated his words.

"She's still with me. We're still a couple. We've been together for ten years. She has no other choice, anyway."

Anton stared at me.

"You heard that?"

"Every word."

For the first time, there was genuine shame in his eyes.

"I didn't mean—"

"You did."

"I was just reassuring Lina."

"By humiliating me?"

"No."

"Then why did reassuring another woman require reminding her that I could never leave you?"

He couldn't answer.

I walked toward the elevator.

Anton caught my wrist.

Pain shot through my old injury.

I flinched.

Hector's expression turned cold.

"Let her go."

Anton released me immediately.

He looked at my arm.

Something seemed to click in his mind.

"Does it still hurt?"

I almost laughed.

"You remembered."

His face tightened.

"Of course I remember."

"You didn't when you dragged me to the car."

"I was angry."

"Exactly."

The elevator arrived.

Before I stepped inside, Anton said, "What do you want?"

I turned around.

"What?"

"Tell me what you want from me."

His voice was desperate now.

"The apartment? It's yours. The vacation house? I'll transfer it. Shares in Schreier Group? Name a percentage."

I stared at him.

"You think this is about money?"

"I'm trying to make things right."

"By buying me?"

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

He had no answer.

I stepped into the elevator.

"I'm not for sale, Anton."

The doors closed between us.

That afternoon, Anton transferred the apartment into my name anyway.

I transferred it back.

The next day, a luxury car arrived outside my temporary residence.

I sent it back.

Then came jewelry.

Flowers.

A designer handbag.

A deed to a beachfront property.

I returned everything.

By Friday, Anton had apparently run out of expensive ways to apologize.

So he showed up himself.

I was leaving the studio when I saw him waiting across the street.

This time, he carried nothing.

"No gifts?" I asked.

"You'd send them back."

"You're learning."

He looked at me for a long time.

"Lina moved out of the apartment I rented for her."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I ended things with her."

"What things? I thought there was nothing between you."

His face stiffened.

"You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't."

Anton exhaled slowly.

"I told her I won't be involved in her life anymore."

"Congratulations."

"Emilia, I'm serious."

"So am I."

I walked past him.

He followed.

"I finally understand why you're angry."

I stopped.

"No, Anton."

He frowned.

"You understand that there were consequences."

I faced him.

"That's different."

"Then explain it to me."

"I spent years explaining."

My voice remained calm.

"Every time I told you Lina made me uncomfortable, you called me childish. Every time I asked you to set boundaries, you said I was jealous. Every time I cried, you told me to grow up."

I shook my head.

"I'm done teaching you how you hurt me."

His eyes reddened.

"Is there really nothing I can do?"

"There was."

Hope flashed across his face.

"What?"

"You could have chosen me before I stopped waiting."

The hope disappeared.

I walked away.

When I reached the corner, Hector's car was waiting.

He was leaning against it.

"Do you routinely stalk your employees?" I asked.

"Only the troublesome ones."

"I can take a taxi."

"You could."

He opened the passenger door.

"But I'm going to the same charity dinner you're attending."

I looked down at my clothes.

"I still need to change."

"Your dress is in the car."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You planned this?"

"My assistant planned it. I take credit for competent employees."

I laughed and got in.

Across the street, Anton watched me leave with Hector.

For the first time, he didn't chase after the car.

He simply stood there.

Perhaps he was finally beginning to understand.

Love wasn't something he could purchase after neglecting it.

And neither was I.