The Heiress Stops Pretending

On their third anniversary, Amelia Wilson clutched an exquisitely wrapped gift box, ready to surprise her boyfriend, Eric Foster.

But just as she reached the study door, she heard the voice of Eric's mother, Maggie Foster, drifting from inside, "Eric, Laura's coming back this afternoon. Are you really going through with marrying Amelia?"

Amelia's footsteps faltered , her hand suspended mid-knock.

The study door stood slightly ajar. Eric sat on the leather sofa, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Smoke curled around his sharp jawline as his husky voice answered, "I don't know."

Maggie sighed, her tone heavy with regret. "Laura's been part of our family since she was a baby. I watched her grow up, I genuinely adore that girl. If your grandfather hadn't been so damn stubborn back then, refusing to let you two be together, she never would've left for Europe in anger..."

Silence settled over the study.

Eric took another drag from his cigarette, something complicated flickering in his eyes.

"But..." Maggie's tone shifted. "Amelia's a good girl too. These past three years, she's treated you—treated me—with nothing but kindness. She's thoughtful, accommodating, practically flawless. Honestly, if you asked me to choose right now, I wouldn't know what to tell you."

"I know Amelia's the ideal wife on paper." Eric's voice carried a thread of exhaustion. "But I can't let go of Laura. After all, three years of affection can't compare to thirty years of history."

Standing outside the door, Amelia tightened her grip on the gift box, her knuckles turning white.

She and Eric had been together for three years. He and Laura had shared thirty years of their lives.

The math was brutally clear.

Maggie's sigh came again. "The entire society circle knows you're marrying Amelia. The invitations are printed. If you back out now, what happens to the Foster family's reputation? Think it through carefully. Whatever you decide, you need to keep Amelia placated for now."

Eric stubbed out his cigarette, his voice cold and detached. "I know what I'm doing."

Amelia couldn't bear to hear another word. She turned away, retreating to the bedroom in a daze.

She placed the elegant gift box on her vanity, staring at the expensive watch inside. The irony wasn't lost on her.

Thinking back on every moment with Eric, everything suddenly made sense. No wonder he'd always been distant. No wonder when she'd brought up marriage, he'd stalled endlessly.

In the end, only his grandfather's ultimatum had forced his reluctant agreement.

Eric's heart had never been hers to claim.

Amelia took a deep breath and dialed a number.

"Dad, it's me." Her voice was eerily calm. "I've thought it through. I'm ready to come home and take over the business. I was foolish before—I upset you and Mom. I hope you can forgive me."

Oliver Wilson remained silent for a long moment before responding, his tone grave. "Are you certain? Taking over the company means going through with the Lowe family arrangement."

William Lowe, heir to Lowe Corporation, was legendary throughout elite circles.

Years ago, when Oliver had arranged her engagement to William, she'd refused. She'd run away from home, throwing everything aside to follow Eric.

Back then, she'd believed she was choosing love. She'd had no regrets.

Now she saw it for what it was—her one-sided delusion. A joke from beginning to end.

Amelia tossed the gift box into the nearby trash can and spoke into the phone. "Yes. I'll come home next month for the engagement."

The moment she hung up, Eric walked in. Seeing Amelia sitting alone at her vanity, he paused.

"When did you get here?"

"Just now." Amelia turned to face him, her expression carefully neutral, betraying nothing.

Eric didn't give it much thought. He headed straight for the walk-in closet, unfastening his cufflinks as he spoke. "I've got an important meeting this afternoon. Need to head out."

Amelia laughed bitterly to herself. She knew he was lying.

She'd just heard Maggie say Laura was returning this afternoon.

Eric's so-called important meeting was nothing more than a reunion with his first love.

Yet thinking of their anniversary, Amelia clung to one last thread of hope. She wanted to give Eric one final chance.

She watched his back, testing the waters. "Do you know what today is?"

Eric's hands stilled on his shirt. He thought for a moment, then shook his head, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "No. What is it?"

In that instant, the last flicker of hope in Amelia's heart extinguished.

She smiled self-deprecatingly and said softly, "Nothing. Go ahead."

Eric glanced back at her with mild confusion and tossed out casually, "You're acting weird today."

With that, he straightened his collar and left without another look back.

The moment the door clicked shut, Amelia's tears finally fell.

Three years of devotion, ending in total defeat.

Amelia saw no reason to stay in the Foster mansion any longer.

She wandered the streets aimlessly, eventually settling at a corner table in a coffee shop.

Watching the endless stream of strangers pass by outside, she felt hollow, as if someone had carved out a piece of her heart.

She lost track of time. As dusk settled, her phone buzzed.

A video from her best friend, Nancy Thomas.

The shaky footage showed Nancy's bar during what looked like a private party. There was Eric, his arm wrapped intimately around a woman.

The woman tilted her head up, whispering something in his ear. Eric leaned down to listen, a tender smile playing at his lips.

Nancy's text popped up immediately after.

[Amelia, guess who just walked into my party? ERIC! Who's that woman he's all over? They look WAY too cozy.]

Amelia didn't answer the question. Instead, she typed back: [You're throwing a party and didn't invite me?]

Nancy sent back an eye-roll emoji. [Would you have come? Ever since you got with Eric, you quit drinking entirely. Completely abandoned your social life.]

Nancy had known Amelia for years. She'd watched her friend lose herself piece by piece for Eric's sake.

Though she disapproved, she'd respected Amelia's choices and kept her opinions to herself.

Amelia's hand trembled around her phone.

Nancy was right. Over these three years with Eric, she'd changed herself again and again for him.

Eric didn't like her drinking, so she'd quit.

Eric didn't like revealing clothes, so she'd covered up completely.

Eric didn't like her familys, so she'd run away from home, nearly causing a permanent rift with her parents.

Amelia had given Eric everything. And what had she gotten in return?

If Eric didn't love her, there was no reason to keep living for him.

Amelia wiped away her tears, pushed down her grief, and messaged Nancy: [Get several bottles of Armand de Brignac ready. I'm on my way.]