My Childhood Sweetheart Regrets Everything After I Dumped Him

A phone call from Bruce Johnson had me drop everything and rush straight to the east of the city.

His voice was urgent as he spoke, "Ysabelle, come to my side right now, or I'm done for!"

I left the client behind, and amid everyone's shocked gazes, I sped off.

What was supposed to be an hour's journey turned into a thirty-minute sprint as I floored the accelerator.

But when I arrived, Bruce was grinning smugly at the crew.

"I told you all, nothing's more important than me," he declared.

Noticing the dark look on my face, he shrugged nonchalantly, and teased, "Just kidding, don’t be so uptight."

The others laughed together. "What can you do? Bruce is her muse, after all."

Their mocking laughter trampled my dignity.

They believed Bruce was the one who had my heart, and that I would do anything for him, even risking everything at his word.

Yet when I requested the director to replace him as the male lead, so I could kiss another man, he froze, his face as blank as paper.

—

“What happened to Bruce..?”

When I rushed into the makeup room, disheveled and out of breath, the entire room burst into laughter.

And there he was, my childhood friend, Bruce, calm and playing with his phone, even sporting a hint of indulgence at the corners of his mouth.

That was when I realized—it was all a setup.

The staff, who always knew how to flatter the powerful and belittle others, sneered at me.

"Still, Bruce is impressive. His people listen so well. Maybe we should learn from him one day.”

“This is nothing. She’s always at his beck and call.”

“Raising Ysabelle is easier than raising a dog!”

Their words struck me like a sharp slap across the face, leaving a sting in my heart.

I clenched my teeth, my gaze growing darker.

The atmosphere grew tense, and finally, Bruce put down his phone.

He scanned the room disapprovingly before his gaze landed on me.

"Ysabelle, don’t listen to them. I was just joking with you."

A smile tugged at his eyes as he patted my head, as if rewarding me.

He knew I didn’t care about what anyone else thought. My heart and eyes were only filled with him.

"What was the urgent matter on the phone?" I couldn't help but ask.

He smiled softly. "I almost forgot. Can you get me a hot latte, with skim milk, and double the espresso?"

"That's it?" I exclaimed.

My heart tightened, and I almost said it with each word.

Bruce didn’t seem to care. "What else?"

"Such a small thing requires me to come all the way here? Don’t you have an assistant?" I inhaled sharply as I suppressed my irritation.

The mention of an assistant made Bruce give me an annoyed look.

"What do you mean? You’re my assistant!"

Someone scoffed. "Yeah. I bet she doesn't look in the mirror. Just look at her. She couldn't even compare to Gianna."

Gianna was Bruce’s girlfriend.

Saying she was his assistant was just an excuse to spend all their time together.

Perhaps sensing the harshness of their words, Bruce explained, "Gia would never do this kind of menial work."

Hearing him, I couldn't help but inwardly sneer. So, I was born to serve him? Am I supposed to do all the dirty work?

I stared at his handsome face, scrutinizing it carefully.

We were childhood friends, but now, he felt so distant.

Back then, when I was bedridden from menstrual cramps, he had rushed over from another city, clumsily and nervously asking, "Do you need brown sugar water? I’ll go make it."

I smiled, pressing my lips together. "Bruce, you’re so silly."

He scratched his head awkwardly as he replied, "I might be clumsy, but I can still take care of you."

Before, in the alleyway, he was the only one who ever protected me.