A Saboteur on Her Knees

The design competition is approaching, yet my fiancee swaps my application with an assembly line worker registration form just to help her first love. I have become the laughingstock of Kingsborough.

"Maybe the shoes I wear in the future will be made by Mr. Dalton himself."

"I heard Willa already called off the engagement. Makes sense. How could he ever measure up?"

Willa Quinn stands there holding Aaron Yule, looking at me with open disdain.

"You'll only lose your shot at the design competition. Aaron is the one losing his love.

"You can't even compare to a fraction of Aaron, and you still think you can fight him for first place?"

My chest tightens as if caught in a giant fist.

After a long moment, she lifts her chin like a benevolent queen granting mercy and says, "When Aaron wins the competition, you can come back. I'll marry you then."

I shake my head.

"No. That won't be necessary."

"I'll let the two of you have what you want."

Willa Quinn's brows tightened the moment she heard me.

"What are you throwing a tantrum for?" she snapped. "Go work in the factory for two years and wear out that precious temper of yours. After that, I'll come pick you up."

From her lofty height, she issued another order. "You're going to the factory anyway, so hand your design competition project to Aaron."

I let out a mocking smile.

We had known each other for 25 years and had been engaged for three.

During those three years, I had asked her more than once when she wanted to get married.

Every time, she met me with impatience. She always said she was still young and refused to let marriage tie her down. She would marry me when the time came.

I kept waiting, only to wait for this.

I gave her a cold laugh. "I'm not going to the assembly line, and I'm not giving him my work. He's a street punk. How is he worthy of any of it?"

Aaron Yule's face fell at my words. He frowned as he clutched Willa's sleeve.

"Willa, my family had no money when I was a kid. I dropped out of school early. Someone like me isn't worthy of joining the design competition. Maybe we should just forget it."

Willa immediately took his hand, her eyes flashing with anger as she glared at me. "How can you be so vicious? Is it Aaron's fault that he grew up poor? How could you say something like that?"

She ordered me to apologize to him at once. If I refused, she promised I would pay for it.

As I looked at her cold profile, the last bit of hope in me shattered. I realized this should be the end of us.

Half a month earlier, I had been hospitalized for a stomach condition. I called her, hoping she would visit.

She cursed me, called me pathetic, and even accused me of faking illness to imitate