After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing - Chapter 37: Chapter 37
You are reading After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing, Chapter 37: Chapter 37. Read more chapters of After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing.
Chantelle’s POV
I wasn’t stupid. After a few days of Cliff acting all weird, I finally pieced it together. He liked me. That much was obvious.
But what I couldn’t figure out was—why?
I stared out the window, lost in thought, muttering under my breath, “Cliff’s the CEO of Coulthard Co., for god’s sake. He’s always surrounded by these elegant, put-together women. I don’t even come close to their level.” I let out a dry little laugh. “It’s definitely not my looks. So… is it my ability?”
Maybe. I’d always been a damn good secretary. Efficient, reliable—great at my job.
“But still,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair, “to someone like him, even the most capable secretary’s just… a tool. And nobody falls in love with a tool, right?”
No matter how many times I ran it through my head, none of it made sense.
Later that evening, just like always, Cliff’s car pulled up beside me outside the office.
“Need a ride?” he asked, leaning slightly over the center console.
He’d asked so many times by now—and yet, for some reason, his ears still turned a soft shade of pink every time.
I shrugged and slid in. “Sure. Thanks.”
Hey, it was a free ride. No way I was turning it down.
We didn’t say much on the way back. Silence settled between us as the city lights blurred past the windows. By the time we reached my apartment building, I finally glanced over. His face looked sharp in the low light, his expression unreadable.
After a beat, I spoke up. “Sir… if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got feelings for me, don’t you?”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard.
“But why?” I pressed, turning a little in my seat to face him. “We barely know each other on a personal level. I’m not especially pretty. Professionally? I’m decent—but nothing amazing. So what exactly do you see in me?”
His face turned red, and for a second, I thought he was going to deflect. But then he met my eyes—steady, quiet, serious.
“Maybe you don’t remember me,” he said, voice soft, “but to me… you’ve always been that brave girl from back then.”
I frowned. “Back when?”
“We were classmates in high school,” he explained. “You helped me once. I liked you then… quietly. And I still like you now.”
I stared at him, totally confused. My brows pulled together, not because of his confession, but because I seriously couldn’t remember anyone named Cliff from back then.
And come on—look at him. Even with that stern CEO vibe, women practically threw themselves at him. If we’d really gone to school together, he would’ve been super popular, right?
So why didn’t I remember him?
Maybe sensing my confusion, he shifted awkwardly and added, “Are you mad? I’m not trying to pressure you. I just… I wanted a chance. A chance to pursue you.”
His voice cracked a little at the end. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I just needed you to know. And if you’d rather I back off, I will. Just like I did before.”
He blurted it all out in a rush, clearly flustered.
I watched him, part amused, part touched by how nervous he was.
A small smile played at my lips. “That’s not what I meant.”
I leaned back and explained, “I just meant… if we really went to the same school, someone like you—looking like this—I should’ve remembered.”
“But I don’t,” I admitted, “and that feels kinda off.”
Cliff visibly relaxed, letting out a long breath. Then, he pulled out a photo from his wallet and handed it to me.
“I looked different back then,” he said, voice threaded with nostalgia. “Because of my family stuff, I was overweight. Awkward. Quiet. Definitely not someone people liked.”
“I got picked on a lot. But then you transferred in. One day, when I was getting bullied, you stood up for me.”
His eyes softened as he continued. “You were smart, strong, fearless… everything about you stuck with me. I started liking you. And honestly, I never stopped.”
“I knew it even then—if I ever loved anyone, it’d be you. Only you.”
“But before I could say anything… you transferred out.”
He paused, then added, “We were only in the same school for a year. And I’ve changed so much since then, so it makes sense you wouldn’t remember me.”
I stared at the photo in silence. Sure enough, that was me.
I’d switched schools twice during high school—family drama, long story. And back then? Yeah, I was a bit of a rebel. Always jumping in when I saw someone getting treated unfairly.
If he really did know me from that time… then his story lined up.
I looked at the chubby, serious-faced boy in the photo. And I felt… something. A strange mix of nostalgia and disbelief.
After a long moment, I finally asked, “Sir… the girl you fell in love with back then—are you sure she’s still the same person standing in front of you now?”
I held his gaze. “I’ve been divorced. I’ve hit rock bottom more than once. I’ve been working nonstop for years just to keep myself afloat.”
“I’m not that brave girl anymore,” I said softly. “I’m just someone trying to survive.”
“You know my situation,” I added, lowering my head. “My ex-husband might still come after me. I’m… a mess, Cliff. A walking disaster.”
I laid it all out—no sugarcoating.
And sure, hearing that he’d liked me for twelve years? That moved me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.
But then reality kicked in.
‘We’re not those same teenagers anymore. And adult relationships? They’re never that simple.’
‘What if the girl Cliff remembered was just a perfect first love frozen in time?’
‘What if, once he got close enough, he realized I wasn’t who he thought I was—and regretted everything?’
There was just too much to think about. I couldn’t afford to blindly fall into something again.
‘Not this time.’
I wasn’t stupid. After a few days of Cliff acting all weird, I finally pieced it together. He liked me. That much was obvious.
But what I couldn’t figure out was—why?
I stared out the window, lost in thought, muttering under my breath, “Cliff’s the CEO of Coulthard Co., for god’s sake. He’s always surrounded by these elegant, put-together women. I don’t even come close to their level.” I let out a dry little laugh. “It’s definitely not my looks. So… is it my ability?”
Maybe. I’d always been a damn good secretary. Efficient, reliable—great at my job.
“But still,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair, “to someone like him, even the most capable secretary’s just… a tool. And nobody falls in love with a tool, right?”
No matter how many times I ran it through my head, none of it made sense.
Later that evening, just like always, Cliff’s car pulled up beside me outside the office.
“Need a ride?” he asked, leaning slightly over the center console.
He’d asked so many times by now—and yet, for some reason, his ears still turned a soft shade of pink every time.
I shrugged and slid in. “Sure. Thanks.”
Hey, it was a free ride. No way I was turning it down.
We didn’t say much on the way back. Silence settled between us as the city lights blurred past the windows. By the time we reached my apartment building, I finally glanced over. His face looked sharp in the low light, his expression unreadable.
After a beat, I spoke up. “Sir… if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got feelings for me, don’t you?”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard.
“But why?” I pressed, turning a little in my seat to face him. “We barely know each other on a personal level. I’m not especially pretty. Professionally? I’m decent—but nothing amazing. So what exactly do you see in me?”
His face turned red, and for a second, I thought he was going to deflect. But then he met my eyes—steady, quiet, serious.
“Maybe you don’t remember me,” he said, voice soft, “but to me… you’ve always been that brave girl from back then.”
I frowned. “Back when?”
“We were classmates in high school,” he explained. “You helped me once. I liked you then… quietly. And I still like you now.”
I stared at him, totally confused. My brows pulled together, not because of his confession, but because I seriously couldn’t remember anyone named Cliff from back then.
And come on—look at him. Even with that stern CEO vibe, women practically threw themselves at him. If we’d really gone to school together, he would’ve been super popular, right?
So why didn’t I remember him?
Maybe sensing my confusion, he shifted awkwardly and added, “Are you mad? I’m not trying to pressure you. I just… I wanted a chance. A chance to pursue you.”
His voice cracked a little at the end. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I just needed you to know. And if you’d rather I back off, I will. Just like I did before.”
He blurted it all out in a rush, clearly flustered.
I watched him, part amused, part touched by how nervous he was.
A small smile played at my lips. “That’s not what I meant.”
I leaned back and explained, “I just meant… if we really went to the same school, someone like you—looking like this—I should’ve remembered.”
“But I don’t,” I admitted, “and that feels kinda off.”
Cliff visibly relaxed, letting out a long breath. Then, he pulled out a photo from his wallet and handed it to me.
“I looked different back then,” he said, voice threaded with nostalgia. “Because of my family stuff, I was overweight. Awkward. Quiet. Definitely not someone people liked.”
“I got picked on a lot. But then you transferred in. One day, when I was getting bullied, you stood up for me.”
His eyes softened as he continued. “You were smart, strong, fearless… everything about you stuck with me. I started liking you. And honestly, I never stopped.”
“I knew it even then—if I ever loved anyone, it’d be you. Only you.”
“But before I could say anything… you transferred out.”
He paused, then added, “We were only in the same school for a year. And I’ve changed so much since then, so it makes sense you wouldn’t remember me.”
I stared at the photo in silence. Sure enough, that was me.
I’d switched schools twice during high school—family drama, long story. And back then? Yeah, I was a bit of a rebel. Always jumping in when I saw someone getting treated unfairly.
If he really did know me from that time… then his story lined up.
I looked at the chubby, serious-faced boy in the photo. And I felt… something. A strange mix of nostalgia and disbelief.
After a long moment, I finally asked, “Sir… the girl you fell in love with back then—are you sure she’s still the same person standing in front of you now?”
I held his gaze. “I’ve been divorced. I’ve hit rock bottom more than once. I’ve been working nonstop for years just to keep myself afloat.”
“I’m not that brave girl anymore,” I said softly. “I’m just someone trying to survive.”
“You know my situation,” I added, lowering my head. “My ex-husband might still come after me. I’m… a mess, Cliff. A walking disaster.”
I laid it all out—no sugarcoating.
And sure, hearing that he’d liked me for twelve years? That moved me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.
But then reality kicked in.
‘We’re not those same teenagers anymore. And adult relationships? They’re never that simple.’
‘What if the girl Cliff remembered was just a perfect first love frozen in time?’
‘What if, once he got close enough, he realized I wasn’t who he thought I was—and regretted everything?’
There was just too much to think about. I couldn’t afford to blindly fall into something again.
‘Not this time.’
End of After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing Chapter 37. Continue reading Chapter 38 or return to After Eight Years, He Walked Away Like I Was Nothing book page.