Her First Love Came Home, I Begged Him To Take Her

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My girlfriends stamina was absolutely terrifying.

For the eight years we had been together, my body had been pushed to the absolute breaking point. So, when I found out her golden boy, her elusive first love, was finally returning from overseas, my eyes literally welled up with tears of sheer relief.

Dawn had finally broken.

My initial plan was to pack a bag and vanish into the night. But thinking back on how good Stella had been to me over these past eight years, I decided she deserved one last home-cooked meal.

"Babe, what are you craving for dinner?"

Her voice came through the phone speaker, crisp and icy. "Fish."

A shiver ran down my spine. "Honey, how about we switch up the menu..."

Before I could even finish my sentence, the line went dead.

She was a tyrant. I gritted my teeth. Fine, lets go all out. It was my last night anyway. I refused to believe I couldn't handle her one last time.

During dinner, Stella pulled a pristine napkin from her lap. Slowly, methodically, she picked the tiny bones from her fish and lined them up on the white fabric.

One bone. Two bones.

She didn't stop until she placed the seventh bone.

Night fell. I was gasping for air, my eyelids heavy as lead.

Stella was in an even deeper state of bliss, completely boneless and melting against my chest. Her usual cold, distant demeanor had completely evaporated. The corners of her eyes and the curve of her brows held a lingering, intoxicating warmth.

Looking at the stunning woman curled up in my arms, my body betrayed me and reacted again.

Sensing the shift, Stella scrambled out of my embrace, her breath hitching.

After a long moment of silence, she asked softly, "Noah, is something on your mind?"

I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I was so caught up in the afterglow that I completely forgot my exit strategy.

Taking advantage of her rare good mood, I tested the waters. "Sweetheart, I heard Sebastian is back from Europe."

Stella furrowed her perfect brows. "What does his return have to do with you?"

How could it not? That was the man she had been pining over for a decade.

I tried to reason with her. "Look, babe, I know you never truly got over him. Now that he's back, I'm willing to step aside. I want you to be happy."

"If I can't give you the fairy tale, I'm giving you your freedom."

The more I spoke, the more worked up I got. I was practically bringing myself to tears with my own nobility.

But Stellas face turned entirely to ice. A terrifying, inexplicable chill settled in her eyes. I knew that look. It was the calm before the hurricane.

I wisely shut my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity, she let out a heavy sigh, turned her back to me, and pulled the covers up. "Noah, never say anything like that to me again."

Seeing her act so utterly put out made my blood boil.

Who was she kidding? Everyone knew she was still hung up on Sebastian. I was literally serving her freedom on a silver platter, and she had the nerve to act annoyed.

Fine. If she wouldn't listen to reason, she couldn't blame me for ghosting.

With my mind made up, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from her. Exhaustion quickly took over, pulling me into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When I opened my eyes, sunlight was pouring into the bedroom. The space beside me was empty.

Stella was fiercely disciplined and ruthlessly ambitious. You didn't become the Vice President of a publicly traded tech firm just eight years out of college by sleeping in.

I was her polar opposite. I took life as it came. After graduation, I floated around the tech sector. Now, pushing thirty, I was just a mid-level department manager.

I dragged myself out of bed, called my boss to burn a sick day, and immediately headed out to meet a real estate agent.

I had picked out a new apartment the exact day I heard Sebastian was coming back.

The place was perfect. Utilities were set up, the Wi-Fi was blazing fast, the furniture was brand new, and most importantly, it was incredibly close to my office. I didn't even try to haggle. I signed the lease right there on the kitchen counter.

When the agent heard I wanted to move in today, he eagerly hooked me up with a moving crew.

I didn't own much. My work laptop, some clothes, and a few boxes of books. By noon, my side of the closet was wiped clean.

Walking out of the building, I glanced back at the luxury condo we had shared for the last eight years. A bitter ache twisted in my chest. Even when Stella started making serious money, we never upgraded. To me, this place was home.

But for the sake of my own survival, I had to cut the cord. The destructive power of a girl's first true love was legendary. If I lingered even a second too long, I'd be caught in the blast radius.

By the time the sun set, my new place was spotless. Looking around the quiet, brightly lit living room, the tight knot in my chest finally began to loosen.

Just as I was admiring my handiwork, my phone absolutely blew up.

Our high school WhatsApp group, which was usually a ghost town, was blowing up with notifications. Chase, our old class president, had sparked the chaos.

"Alright people! To welcome Sebastian back to the States, drinks and dinner are on me tomorrow night at eight. Private lounge at the Plaza Hotel. I want to see everyone there!"

Chase was Sebastians ultimate wingman back in the day, so him hosting a welcome back bash was fully expected.

The chat went wild. People were hyping Chase up and flooding the chat with emojis for Sebastian.

Then, Sebastian himself chimed in. "Thanks for remembering me, guys. I really hope to see all of your faces tomorrow."

Immediately after, he dropped a massive digital gift card into the chat for everyone to claim. The group completely lost its mind, calling him a boss and a legend.

I watched the screen in dead silence. I didn't type a word. I didn't click the link.

Hailey, a girl who used to share a desk with Sebastian, suddenly derailed the hype train. "Why is Stella so quiet? Is she not in the group anymore? Is she coming tomorrow?"

The chat went completely dead.

Back in high school, Sebastian and Stella were the undisputed golden couple. He was the handsome star athlete, she was the untouchable ice queen, and they permanently locked down the top two spots in our class rankings. Even the strictest teachers looked the other way when they held hands in the hallways.

Back then, Stella was the picture of a devoted girlfriend. To any other guy, she was a brick wall. But for Sebastian, she was soft, sweet, and entirely attentive.

When he played basketball, she stood on the sidelines holding his water bottle. When they ate in the cafeteria, she would quietly move the best pieces of meat from her tray onto his.

Every guy in our class watched them with a toxic mix of jealousy and despair.

But things fell apart after graduation. Sebastian chose to attend a prestigious university in the UK. They had a massive, explosive fight about it. Stella begged him to stay. Sebastian was dead set on leaving, demanding she come with him.

But Stella came from a working-class family. There was absolutely no way she could afford international tuition.

They shattered completely.

When college started, Stella fell into a dark, suffocating depression. As her former classmate and long-time admirer, I saw my window. She was in a new city, reeling from a brutal heartbreak, and entirely vulnerable.

I didn't hesitate. I stepped right into the void.

During winter break of our freshman year, after a party and far too many drinks, the line between us blurred.

I'll freely admit I wasn't some noble knight. I acted purely out of raw, desperate infatuation. I didn't let myself think about the consequences. But the next morning, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes and realizing she had given me a part of herself she had never shared with Sebastian, I froze.

At that exact moment, I knew I was in way over my head. I was completely hers.

Once we made it official, I gave her everything I had. But Stella always kept me at an arm's length.

I understood why. I was the rebound. I was the guy who kept the loneliness at bay when she was bleeding out. I couldn't blame her for that.

I still poured my heart into her. I was young and foolish enough to believe that if I just loved her hard enough, eventually she would see my worth.

So, when she asked me not to post pictures of us on Instagram, I kept my feed empty. When she told me to stay home from her corporate promotion dinners, I stayed home.

For eight years, I swallowed my pride. I accepted that she was cold to the world and lukewarm to me. That was just who she was.

But there were nights when I would wake up to an empty bed. I would find her standing on the balcony, her eyes lost in the city lights, carrying a melancholy that I could never touch.

I knew exactly who she was looking for.

The buzzing of my phone yanked me back to reality. The group chat was completely off the rails now.

"Stella will definitely be there. Has anyone even heard of her dating anyone since high school?"

"Exactly. She's been waiting for our boy Sebastian."

"So, Mr. Wall Street, are you planning on winning a certain someone back?"

Sebastian replied with a single smiley face emoji. He said absolutely nothing, but that emoji screamed volumes.

I had already made peace with walking away. But reading those messages still felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting in my gut.

I let out a bitter laugh. Sebastian was clearly treating her like a prize he had already won back.

My phone vibrated in my hand. It was Stella.

I answered, and her clipped, professional voice filled my ear. "Noah, I'm stuck at the office. Don't wait up for dinner. Bye."

She hadn't even been home. She had no idea my closet was empty.

Before she could hang up, I cut in. "Wait. Don't hang up."

"Stella, have you looked at the high school group chat today?"

Her tone was completely flat. "No. I don't have time for that."

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "Tomorrow night, they're throwing a massive welcome home party for Sebastian. Are you going?"

The silence on the other end stretched on for so long that I thought the call dropped. Finally, her voice came through, colder than liquid nitrogen. "No. Why, do you want to go?"

What kind of trap was that? If she wasn't going, was I banned from attending? Besides, how was I supposed to know if she was lying just to sneak off and see him?

"Yeah, I'm going. Why wouldn't I?" I shot back. "Besides, if we both pull a no-show, certain people might get the wrong idea. That wouldn't be a good look."

Stella caught the hidden venom in my words. Her voice dropped an octave. "Noah, cut the passive-aggressive act. You've called me by my first name three times today. I don't like it."

Click. She hung up.

I scoffed at the screen. You don't like it? Well, I don't like a lot of things.

For eight years, I called her sweetheart, baby, honey. She exclusively used my first name. The only time she ever called me her man was when we were tangled in the sheets.

I gave up eight years of my life chasing a title she was never going to give me in the daylight.

The fantasy was over. I was done bleeding myself dry for a lost cause.

I opened the chat one last time. People were literally taking bets on what their romantic reunion was going to look like.

Disgusted, I tossed my phone onto the sofa. A heavy, suffocating pain spread through my chest. Walking away was the right move, but it didn't mean I had magically stopped loving her.

I loved her desperately. But after eight years of talking to a wall, even the deepest love runs out of oxygen. Staying any longer would just be pathetic.

That night, I was deep in a dreamless sleep when my phone shattered the silence.

I blindly swiped to answer. Stellas voice poured out of the speaker, so cold it could freeze whiskey.

"Noah. Where the hell are you?"

I jolted awake, my heart slamming against my ribs. "S-Stella. I moved out."

The words felt clumsy and guilty on my tongue, even though I had nothing to be guilty about.

I could literally hear her teeth grinding together. "Give me one good reason."

Did I really need to spell it out? Your golden boy is back in town ready to sweep you off your feet. I was just clearing the stage.

"I don't need a reason. I'm just not in love with you anymore. We're done."

Dead silence. I didn't say another word. We just stayed on the line, listening to each other's ragged breathing through the dark.

After a long time, the edge finally left her voice, leaving something soft and broken behind.

"Noah, I knew something was wrong with you these past few days. But you wouldn't talk to me."

"We've been together for eight years. We might not have the paperwork, but we're basically married. If you're going through something, tell me. We can fix it together."

I let out a harsh, cynical laugh. Fix it? How do you fix a ghost from the past?

"Save the fake sympathy, Stella. I'm not going through anything. I just don't want you anymore. It's over."

Before she could form a response, I pulled the phone away and ended the call.

Just before the screen went black, I swore I heard a sharp, trembling sob.

Nonsense. Stella crying over me? Impossible. I was just hearing things.

I woke up the next morning, stretched, and felt surprisingly incredible. Living alone actually had its perks. I didn't have to worry about draining my life force just to keep Stella satisfied.

I grabbed a coffee and a breakfast sandwich downstairs and started plotting out my Saturday.

I had the whole day to myself, and I was absolutely going to that reunion tonight. I needed to see with my own eyes if the woman who swore she wasn't going would miraculously show up.

After breakfast, I hit an upscale barbershop for a clean, sharp fade. Looking in the mirror, I had to admit, the raw material wasn't bad. I was just horribly packaged. Plaid shirts, faded jeans, and hiking boots. No wonder Stella treated me like a dirty secret.

Honestly, I couldn't even fully blame her.

I walked straight to Nordstrom and dropped some serious cash on a tailored navy suit. I even let the sales associate talk me into some skincare products.

When I looked in the dressing room mirror, I gave myself a slow nod of approval. Money really does buy confidence.

At exactly six o'clock, I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the Plaza Hotel's VIP lounge.

Most of the class was already there, drinks in hand, buzzing with nostalgia. Right in the epicenter of the room stood a man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, soaking up the adoration like a sponge.

"Sebastian, man, I heard you started your own private equity fund. You guys must have all the insider tech, right?"

Sebastian offered a smooth, mysterious smile, playing the enigmatic billionaire perfectly.

When he didn't give up the goods, people pressed harder. "Come on, Seb. We're family here. If you've got the golden ticket, you can't keep it all to yourself."

Chase, the class president, threw an arm around Sebastian's shoulder and laughed loudly. "Relax, guys! You know our boy isn't like that. When he makes a move, hell take care of us."

The crowd visibly relaxed, practically lining up to kiss the rings of both Sebastian and Chase.

Chase caught my eye from across the room and raised his whiskey glass. "Noah! You made it!"

I wasn't exactly a star player in high school, so I was surprised he remembered my name.

Sebastian followed Chase's gaze and gave me a polite, measured nod. But there was something sharp and highly amused in his eyes.

I walked over and bumped fists with Chase. He was a trust-fund kid, loud and a little obnoxious, but he didn't have a malicious bone in his body.

Then I looked at Sebastian. Eight years in Europe had done him well. He was sharper, wealthier, and radiating an effortless alpha energy. Even in my new suit, I felt a little outgunned.

Sebastian swirled the ice in his glass. "Noah. I remember you went to the same university as Stella."

I nodded, waiting for the hook.

He asked casually, flawlessly nonchalant. "Do you guys still keep in touch?"

Before I could even open my mouth, Hailey, his former desk-mate and ultimate fangirl, let out a loud scoff.

"Please. Stellas standards are way too high. Why would she keep in touch with him? I don't think they exchanged two words our entire senior year."

A ripple of laughter echoed through the group.

I just shrugged. I had already dumped her. Let them think whatever they wanted. It wasn't like I had ever planned on using her name for street cred anyway.

Chase frowned at the laughing crowd. "Shut up, guys. None of you talked to her either."

That shut the guys up real quick. It was true. Aside from Sebastian, Stella treated the male population like they were invisible.

Hailey noticed Sebastian constantly checking his Rolex and glancing at the door. She bumped his shoulder playfully. "Seb, your heart is literally hovering by the entrance."

Sebastian offered a modest, handsome smile.

"If you're that anxious, just call her," Hailey pushed. "We might not have her number, but there's no way you don't."

Sebastian neatly dodged the question. "Whether she comes or not is entirely up to her. I wouldn't want to pressure her into changing her mind just because I called."

Hailey looked at him like he was a god. "You are such a gentleman."

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. The guy was putting on a masterclass in manipulation. He knew exactly what he was doing. If he called her, she would drop everything and run here.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the banquet hall slowly swung open.

Stella stood in the doorway, framed by the hallway lights. She was still wearing her sleek, tailored executive blazer and skirt.

The room gasped. The boys practically scrambled over each other to form a welcoming committee.

I took a sip of my drink, a bitter smirk on my face. She swore she wasn't coming, yet here she was, making the grand, dramatic entrance. Was this the only way to ensure every eye in the room was on her?

But damn, a first love's gravity was terrifying. A blind man could see exactly who she had rushed here for.

Sebastian stepped through the crowd, parting them like the Red Sea. His eyes were liquid velvet.

"Stella. You made it."

Stella looked like murder. Her aura was so dark and heavy it could crush coal into diamonds. She completely ignored Sebastian. Her eyes frantically scanned the room, hunting for something.

Sebastian's polite smile faltered slightly. "Stella? Are your eyes swollen? Have you not been sleeping?"

Hearing that, I looked up from the shadows near the bar.

He was right. Her beautiful, striking eyes were red and puffy.

I scoffed internally. Was seeing Sebastian again really that overwhelming? She actually cried over him?

Stella acted like Sebastian hadn't even spoken. Her desperate gaze snapped onto me, locking on like a laser.

The entire room watched in absolute, breathless silence.

Stella walked straight past Sebastian and stopped right in front of me. Then, the ice queen shattered. A dazzling, breathtaking smile bloomed on her face, making the entire room feel like a summer morning.

She reached out her delicate hands and grabbed my collar.

"Honey," she whispered, her voice like warm honey, "that's not how you tie a half-Windsor."

With practiced, intimate movements, she undid my messy knot and expertly retied it.

I stood there holding my scotch, utterly paralyzed.

Who was this woman? Eight years. Eight miserable years, and she had never once called me anything affectionate in public. And now, standing three feet away from the love of her life, she was adjusting my tie and calling me honey?

Was she actively trying to get me murdered?

I opened my mouth to stop the madness, but Stella was putting on the performance of a lifetime.

She smoothly looped her arm through mine, pressing against my side. She looked out at the sea of shocked faces, her smile radiant.