After Affair

"Miss. Winston?"

Years ago, when I was searching for the perfect car to mark a milestone in my life, the salesman at this high-end dealership had given me a hand. I never imagined he'd remember me after all these years.

"Which Miss. Winston?" someone asked.

"The only daughter of the Winston fortune!" the salesman replied.

"Her? No way. She looks like someone who couldn't afford the down payment, not a single luxury brand on her. Who does she think she is, pretending to be rich? If she's really the heir to the Winston empire, then I'm a billionaire!"

"Do you honestly believe she can afford to shop here?"

"Everyone knows Ms. Anderson's been busy with charity work, not making money. Who does this woman think she's fooling?"

Laughter rippled through the store. The manager, embarrassed, stammered out an apology and quickly walked away.

I turned, ready to speak, but saw Charles standing by the sidewalk, his eyes locking with mine for a split second before he quickly looked away, as if I were a stranger.

I stopped, my tone icy."Vicky, hold on! Did you not hear me?"

I kept walking, my heels clicking against the pavement.Then, without warning, my ankle buckled, and I crashed to the ground.Before I could recover, tires screeched, and a figure emerged from the blur.

Charles.

His face twisted in panic, but his eyes-empty, distant-betrayed no urgency.