The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 26

The short-haired intern had stars in her eyes, completely infatuated.

"Too bad he's already married. What a waste."

The long-haired intern sipped her mug, sounding disappointed.

"So what if he's married? Those billionaire marriages are usually just arrangements where they do whatever they want anyway."

"I actually think his wife is kind of pathetic."

"Haven't you heard? Gideon practically worships his sister, Giselle."

Another voice chimed in, dripping with envious bitterness.

"I saw her at an auction once. She looks like an angel. I heard Mr. Hayes gives her whatever she wants and spoils her rotten. I'm so jealous; with a brother like that, you'd never have to work a day in your life."

Sitting at her desk, Nora sketched mechanically. Hearing the words "lucky" and "jealous," a self-deprecating glimmer flashed in her eyes.

Who would have thought the Mrs. Hayes they envied so much was sitting just a few feet away, nursing unhealed bruises while the supposedly devoted brother had just slapped his own wife across the face.

"Hi, Nora! I'm Janie Fisher."

A young woman with a ponytail and a bright smile approached, clutching a stack of catalogs.

Her eyes were bright with genuine adoration.

"I'm a huge fan! The collection you designed in your senior year is still on my computer as a reference. I can't believe I'm meeting you in person, let alone working with you!"

Janie's kindness felt like a breath of fresh air, giving Nora her first taste of warmth in this new environment.

She knew that without a stellar piece to back her up, any defense was just empty talk.

Running her hand over the slightly jagged sketches, Arthur's words echoed in her mind.

"Nora, pain is sometimes the greatest catalyst for design. Turn your scars into art they can't afford."

Stepping out of the prison that had trapped her for three years, she wanted to sift through this sea of ridicule and find the brilliant version of herself she used to be.

Nora picked up her pen and added a sharp, aggressive angle to the bottom of her sketch.

At least now, she was no longer the docile Mrs. Hayes who shrank away to please others.

She was just Nora.