His Unstopped Love

The air in the private room was thick and heavy. I held the slender stem of the wine glass, watching the dark red wine shimmer in the light. A five-year reunion should have been lively and nostalgic, but all I wanted was to escape. Then the door opened, and Vincent Sanchez walked in, his black coat dusted with light rain. Time had been unusually kind to him—his face was still sharply defined, only now with a tempered sharpness between his brows and eyes. Our eyes met in midair. I quickly looked down, but my heart betrayed me, pounding wildly. "Ruby, long time no see." His voice cut through the noise. I forced a smile. "Long time no see." At the table, everyone was careful to make sure we weren't seated together. But I could still feel his gaze, burning against my cheek like a hot iron. After a few rounds of drinks, truth or dare began. The bottle spun, landing on Vincent for the third time. "Truth, truth!" someone teased. Our class monitor Chad smirked, "Vincent, tell us one thing you regret the most." The private room suddenly went quiet; everyone knew our history. Vincent didn't hesitate: "My biggest regret is letting go of Ruby's hand on graduation day." Dead silence. Then a stir broke out. I suddenly stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. "I'm going to the bathroom." I fled in panic; the woman in the bathroom mirror had red, swollen eyes—such a pitiful sight. "Ruby." Vincent chased after me. He grabbed my wrist, the warmth of his hand burning through my sleeve onto my skin. "Let go." "Please, just listen to me." "No need." I shoved him away forcefully, "Mr. Sanchez, please behave yourself." He stood before me, his breath slightly unsteady, "We broke up back then because Cynthia Smith's father agreed to invest in my startup—but only if I dated her." I laughed aloud, "So what? You're saying this now to get me to applaud your reluctant betrayal?" "That wasn't betrayal, it was a deal." His voice was hoarse, "I ended the partnership right after we broke up. I've been trying to find you these past two years—" "Enough." I interrupted him, "I don't care about your reasons." The elevator doors opened, and I stepped in quickly. He pressed his hand against the elevator door. "Ruby—" "Let go." The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off his final expression.