Camille's POV

On our third anniversary, Kemp Stokes transferred a dollar to me while sending 72,500 to his first love.

When I didn't accept the money, he turned the tables and accused me of being materialistic.

“I sent money to Wendy because I don’t want her to struggle, not because I still have feelings for her,” he said coldly. “You’ve already got help from my mom. Haven’t I provided enough for you? Do you really need more? This was supposed to be your final test. If you passed, we’d get married. But you really let me down.”

As such, I broke up with him on the spot.

But he didn’t hesitate. He just turned around and proposed to his first love.

Five years later, we ran into each other at a luxury hotel in the USA.

His company was about to go public. He looked every bit the successful CEO, with Wendy Alexander on his arm, dressed in custom couture and radiating elegance.

He frowned the moment he saw me, mud-stained, rummaging through a trash bin.

“Camille, you thought a dollar wasn’t enough back then. But now you’re digging through trash cans and still can’t find that much, can you?” he sneered. “Let me tell you, even if you’ve fallen this low, playing the pity card won’t work on me. I’m not taking you back.”

Despite his mocking, I didn’t bother responding.

What mattered to me was to find my son’s prized seashell he had found by the sea, which had been thrown away by his father. He was now crying, so I had to find it.

——

In the hotel lobby, Kemp and Wendy walked in gracefully, arms linked.

His tailored suit emphasized his tall, confident posture. Every gesture radiated the ease of a man in control.

People quickly recognized him and gathered around with polite smiles and compliments.

“Mr. Stokes, I didn’t expect to see you at the finance summit! Taking your company public in just five years is truly remarkable!”

“You’re here to meet the investor, too, right?”

Kemp nodded slightly, and the crowd immediately understood. Almost everyone there had come for that same investor.

Some eyes turned toward Wendy, smiling flatteringly. “This must be your wife? What a perfect match you two make!”

Wendy leaned in closer to Kemp, smiling sweetly.

“We’re not married yet,” she said gently. “But we’re planning the wedding after the company goes public. Hope you’ll all be there.”

Kemp’s expression froze for a second before he forced a smile. “We’re both focused on our careers right now. Anyway, we already know we’re meant for each other. A marriage can wait.”

More congratulations followed after that.

But I was surprised that they still weren’t married.

After our breakup, he’d proposed to Wendy almost immediately, and not long after, they made their engagement public. He’d loved her so much. Shouldn’t they have been married by now? And his mother had been desperate for a grandchild back then.

Just then, a hotel staff member walked over with a stern expression and said, “Ma’am, this is a five-star resort hotel. Not just anyone can wander in here.”

He then gave me a once-over, his disdain completely unfiltered, and added, “And digging through trash bins is strictly prohibited. Please leave immediately.”

I had just come back from the beach with my son, so my clothes were still muddy and my hair a mess. Definitely, I didn’t look like a guest.

Still, I quickly tried to explain. “Sorry, something of mine was accidentally thrown away. Once I find it, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll clean everything up, don't worry.”

But the staffer impatiently interrupted, “Someone dressed like you? There’s no way you’re a guest here. Leave now, or I’ll call the security.”

His voice was loud, drawing curious looks from the people nearby.

Just then, Kemp happened to glance back, and our eyes met.

He froze for a moment and then uttered, “Camille?”

The staffer turned to him, surprised. “Mr. Stokes, you know her?”

Kemp quickly collected himself and said coolly, “I just knew she was once a student my mother used to sponsor, nothing more.”

Camille's POV

After speaking, Kemp shifted his gaze away as if even glancing at me again was a waste of time. He looked just like he did the day we broke up—cold, dismissive, and distant.

The hotel staff, seeing this, immediately shoved me toward the exit.

“Move it! I’ve seen plenty like you, poor but full of pride. Someone helps you once, and you think you can cling to them forever?”

I dodged his hand and shot back, irritated, “I already said, I’ll leave after I find what I’m looking for. And if there’s any damage, I’ll pay for it.”

But he only scoffed, his face twisted with mockery. “Pay? You?” He pointed at the trash bin beside us and continued, “You know what that is? It's a custom-designed piece by an Italian artist worth fourteen grand! Can you afford that? This is a luxury resort hotel. Everything here costs more than someone like you could even imagine!”

He then reached out to grab me again, but Kemp, who had already reached the elevator, suddenly turned around and shouted, “That’s enough.”

He walked over, face expressionless, eyes distant, and asked, “What exactly are you looking for? I’ll pay you whatever it’s worth in cash. Just stop using these pathetic tricks to get my attention. It’s tiresome. I’m not interested in you anymore.”

Wendy quickly tightened her grip on his arm, her smile gentle and gracious. “Camille, we’re getting married. I know you weren’t ready to let go when you two broke up, but you can’t force love. I hope you’ll carry yourself with dignity.”

I gave her a small smile and sincerely said, “Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Then I crouched back down and continued searching for my son’s shell in the trash.

“What will it take for you to leave?” Kemp’s voice grew more impatient. “Or are you still hung up on that 72,500 I gave Wendy?”

After saying that, he pulled out his phone and tapped quickly.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you now. Just take the money and disappear. Don’t ever show up in front of me again. The only person I’ve ever loved is Wendy. Those two years with you? They were just me running from how I felt about her. This money should be more than enough for you to start fresh. Go find someone who actually suits you. Stop wasting your time on me.”

Suddenly, he paused, his fingers frozen mid-motion. “Your account’s frozen? You’re on the defaulters’ list?”

That was when I realized that he’d tried transferring the money to the old card I used when I accepted his mom’s financial help.

After I got married, I only ever used the black card my husband gave me. Of course, that old card was frozen.

But clearly, in his mind, I’d only gotten worse over time.

First, I was the greedy gold digger. Now, a deadbeat too.

“I don’t need the money,” I said calmly, too tired to explain.

He narrowed his eyes, his voice turning colder. “You’re literally digging through garbage, and you still refuse help?”

I frowned, confused. “We broke up five years ago. We're basically strangers now. Why would I accept help from you?”

After a pause, I added, “Really, don’t send the money. I don’t need it.”

Because if someone found out money came from Kemp, he’d start asking me a lot of questions.

And if he ever uncovered my history with Kemp, he’d be jealous for the rest of the month.

Kemp seemed stunned, then let out a soft laugh. “Camille, don’t get the wrong idea. I was just pitying you. Trust me, I have no feelings left.”

Still, he stared at my muddy, disheveled appearance for a long time, then his expression slowly shifted to guilt or pity.

“You’ve fallen this far. Maybe the breakup hit you harder than I thought,” he muttered. “I suppose I do carry some blame. Is this why you won’t take the money? To keep me feeling guilty?”

Wendy, seeing his mood change, quickly stepped in to comfort him gently.

Camille's POV

“She’s a top medical school graduate, Kemp. She’s perfectly capable of getting a job and taking care of herself,” Wendy said with a sweet but sharp voice. “If she’s ended up like this, it’s no one’s fault but her own. It simply means she’s lazy and unmotivated.”

“You could tell even back then,” she continued. “Sure, she came from a poor family, but instead of working part-time to pay for school, she just took your mom’s money without question. That says a lot. She’s poor and lazy.”

“Wendy!” I snapped, cutting her off. “I paid back every cent your aunt gave me, with interest. So watch your mouth.”

Caught off guard, Wendy sulked and tugged at Kemp’s sleeve. “Forget it, Kemp. She’s so prideful. No matter how kind you are, she’ll just take it as an insult. Let’s not waste our time on her.”

“You two don’t need to concern yourselves with my life,” I said coldly, turning back to keep digging through the trash.

Then suddenly, I saw it.

A small pouch of colorful seashells.

Finally found it, I let out a breath of relief. But just as I reached for it, Kemp grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet.

“Camille, you thought a dollar wasn’t enough back then. But now you’re digging through trash cans and still can’t find that much, can you?” he sneered. “But let me tell you, even if you’ve fallen this low, playing the pity card won’t work on me. I’m not taking you back.”

For a moment, I was speechless.

All these years later, and he still thought we broke up because of that stupid dollar?

The truth was, when Wendy suddenly went abroad and ghosted him, he spiraled. He was so heartbroken that it nearly destroyed him.

His mother asked me to look after him, and since she had helped me financially, I stayed by his side through it all. Over time, we naturally grew close and ended up together.

But the moment Wendy came back, he started pulling away, ignoring my calls, leaving my messages on read.

And on our third anniversary, he only sent me a dollar. If that wasn’t a message to “get lost,” I didn’t know what was.

The sad part? I still couldn’t bring myself to let go. Not until I saw the message Wendy sent me. That was when I gave up for good. And he knew that he had to.

I stared at the hand gripping my wrist and said calmly, “Kemp, I’m doing just fine now. I’ve never once thought about going back to you. You can relax.”

I tried pulling my hand away, but he didn’t budge.

“Didn’t you say it yourself?” I reminded him. “You told me, if we broke up, I better not come crawling back. I’ve remembered those words ever since.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, so I added, “I’m married now. My husband has a temper. If he saw you grabbing me like this, it wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

Only then did he finally let go, eyes wide with shock.

“You got married behind my back?!” His brows knitted together. “Where is he? What kind of man lets his wife end up in a state like this?”

When he saw I didn't answer, he let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I get it. Trying to get a rise out of me by saying you’re married? Even if you said you had a kid, I still wouldn’t care.”

He didn’t need to spell it out. I already knew. His heart had only ever held Wendy.

But the thing was, he was the one who confessed to me first.

I even asked him over and over if he was truly over Wendy. Beck then, he had looked me in the eyes and promised he’d forgotten her.

That was the only reason I ever said yes to being with him.

Now, somehow, I was the clingy, manipulative ex in his story?

I shook my head, letting out a breath as I shrugged. “Think whatever you want.”

Wendy wrinkled her nose, backing up a step like the smell was too much for her.

“Kemp, this place stinks. Let’s go. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate your kindness anyway.”

But Kemp didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on me, like he still wasn’t ready to let this go.