Andrew Lane had dismissed her teenage crush as something trivial, tearing their relationship beyond repair. On her birthday, he gave the piano meant for her to Isabella Austin instead.
Years had passed since then. Emily Blair had learned to let go, to accept the past without bitterness.
But she could still remember that day with chilling clarity—the sensation of being submerged in icy water, unable to breathe.
“Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Lane, but there’s no need.”
Her own voice echoed in the quiet room, calm and resolute.
Her gaze remained steady, unwavering. She lifted her eyes and looked at Andrew Lane coolly. “Mr. Lane, perhaps you’ve forgotten—I can afford a better piano now. I don’t need anyone to buy me one.”
Unless she was mistaken, the piano before her now was the very same model Andrew Lane had once intended to give her on her birthday.
There was no need to patch things up between them. Not anymore.
Andrew Lane’s expression was unreadable. “I thought you’d like it.”
Like a stale piece of candy?
Emily’s lips curled in a wry, almost imperceptible smile. “I prefer things that belong only to me. I’m possessive, you see. If something’s already been touched by someone else, I don’t want it. This piano is lovely, Mr. Lane, but it’s not for me.”
Her words carried a double meaning.
She knew Andrew Lane would understand exactly what she was getting at.
Meeting his eyes, Emily smiled—a polite, unbothered smile. “Besides, if there’s anything I want, I can buy it myself, or my boyfriend will. I appreciate your gesture, Mr. Lane, but maybe you should keep this piano for Mrs. Lane. I heard she’s starting a world tour next month. If I get the chance, I’ll come and listen.”
Every word was perfectly measured, leaving no room for retort.
Andrew Lane slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark and inscrutable.


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