Too Late for Spring

I completed my internship when someone caught me kissing my boyfriend and the director, James Porter, in the parking garage. A photo appeared in the company group chat soon after. To protect my chance at becoming a permanent employee, he denied everything in front of the entire office. "The woman in the photo isn't her. She's my childhood friend." His childhood friend stepped forward and took responsibility for the office‑romance rumor. She had one condition. James Porter had to complete 100 couple challenges with her. Once they finished all of them, she would clear our names and explain the truth. James held me in his arms and comforted me. "Baby, it's only 100 things. Once we're done, I'll make our relationship public." They reached the ninety‑ninth challenge when they lost the challenge book and had to start again. During the second round, they accidentally skipped one. During the third round, they decided to film the challenges. Before long, they became a couple‑content sensation. Millions of followers obsessed over them. Meanwhile, I went from intern to permanent employee. I waited from the age of twenty‑three until I turned twenty‑eight. Every time I reached my breaking point, James gave me the same answer. "Just a few more. Hang in there." On our fifth anniversary, I carried a cake to find him. Halfway there, my period cramps hit so hard that I collapsed into muddy water as a torrential downpour crashed around me. His car was parked in front of me. I felt too much pain to stand, and for once, I believed he would help me. He glanced at me, walked past me, and pulled his rain‑soaked childhood friend into his arms. She held up her phone with a grin. "Today's challenge is a boyfriend exclusively devoted to me for 24 hours. "If you touch her, we'll have to start again from challenge number one." James stayed silent for 2 seconds. Then he opened the car door for her. Just before the door closed, a message from him appeared on my phone. [Baby, it's the last day. Just hang in there a little longer.] That night, his childhood friend posted the hundredth and final couple challenge. In the video, she stood in a wedding dress and held out her hand to James. [Challenge 100: Marry the man who completed the first ninety‑nine challenges with me.] James did not deny it. He replied with a heart. I looked down at the cake, now ruined and soaking in muddy water, and I laughed. Five years. He still was not tired of playing this game. I was done waiting. Chapter 1 The rain was still pouring when I left the parking lot. A sharp ache tightened across my lower stomach. By the time I reached the curb, my legs gave out. I grabbed a streetlight pole and stood there for what felt like forever before I finally waved down a taxi. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Miss, are you headed to the hospital?" I nodded. "Please... as fast as you can." In the emergency room, a nurse handed me a clean hospital gown. When I peeled off my soaked clothes, I finally saw the dark stain spreading across my jeans. After all the tests were done, the doctor slid a report across the desk. "You were pregnant. It was still very early, but the embryo had already stopped developing." He paused before continuing. "The fall in the rain made the bleeding worse. We need to keep you overnight for observation." I froze. "Pregnant?" The doctor looked up at me. "You didn't know?" I slowly shook my head. For the past 2 months, I had been buried in a major project. Late nights, endless revisions, barely sleeping. When my period was late, I had blamed my messed‑up schedule. The nurse spoke gently. "Can a family member come? We need someone to sign the paperwork." Without thinking, I reached for my phone. The screen was still sitting on the last message James Porter had sent me. [Baby, just hang in there one more day.] I gave them James's number. The first 2 calls went unanswered. The third connected. "Hello?" a woman's voice answered. It was Zara Charlton. The nurse said politely, "Hello, this is the Marlowe City Hospital Emergency Department. Mr. Porter's family member needs a consent signature. Is he available?" Zara's voice sounded soft and almost lazy. "He's in the shower. He can't answer right now." The nurse hesitated. "The patient isn't in good condition. It is best if her family comes as soon as possible." Zara let out a tiny laugh. "If it's not life‑or‑death, could it wait a little? "We're doing our 24‑Hour Boyfriend Challenge today. We can't interrupt it, or we'll have to start the whole thing over." I heard running water in the background. Then James's voice drifted over. "Who's calling?" Zara answered naturally. "Just a telemarketer." "Oh." That was all. A second later, the call ended. The nurse looked at me awkwardly. "Would you like to try contacting someone else?" I took my phone back. "No." In the end, Joyce Cooper came. She rushed into the hospital with her jacket on inside out. The moment she saw me, she stopped cold. "Yvonne... what happened?" She knelt beside me and lightly touched the scraped skin on my palm. Her expression darkened instantly. "Where's James?" I stared at the IV drip hanging beside my bed. "He's busy." Joyce's lips parted, but she swallowed whatever she wanted to say. Instead, she quietly turned around and went to pay the hospital bill and buy my toiletries. At 3 in the morning, Zara uploaded a new video. She wore pajamas while James stood behind her, blow‑drying her hair before tucking the blanket neatly around her. The comments flew by so fast they blurred together. [This is basically married life already.] [The way Mr. Porter looks at her does not seem fake at all.] [If you two do not get married, this story has a terrible ending.] I watched for a few seconds, then I closed the app, opened my contacts, and deleted James's number. The next morning, the doctor told me the bleeding had finally stopped. "However, you need real rest," he warned. "No more overworking yourself." Before leaving the hospital, I sat in the lobby and called a rental agency. "Hi. I'm looking for a short‑term apartment. Preferably somewhere I can move into within the next few days." Joyce looked over at me. "You're moving out?" I slipped my medical records into my bag. "Yeah." "Did you and James have a fight?" "It's not a fight." I zipped the bag shut. "I just don't want to live there anymore." When I got back to the apartment, the living room was overflowing with gift boxes. James walked over carrying a mug of hot tea. "Where did you go last night? You weren't answering your phone." He reached out to feel my forehead. I turned my head away. "I was at the hospital. My stomach hurt." He fell silent for 2 seconds, then picked up the conversation as if he had rehearsed it. "Yvonne, you knew about yesterday's challenge. It was the final day. "If we stopped halfway, everything we did before would've been wasted. And if Zara got upset, it would only become an even bigger mess." He said it so smoothly, as if every compromise I had made over the last 5 years had been the obvious thing to do. He held out a bottle of medicine. "Take this first." I did not reach for it. Instead, I asked, "What time did you get home yesterday?" "Six in the morning." Then he added quickly, "After she fell asleep, I came straight back." I nodded. "That's good." Nothing more. Maybe he thought I was still angry, because he bent down and pulled a gift box out from beneath the coffee table. "Our anniversary present. I was supposed to give it to you last night." Inside was a necklace. Hanging from it was a silver pendant shaped like the number 100. I held it between my fingers without saying a word. James sat down beside me. "The brand gave us two limited‑edition anniversary necklaces. Zara got one, and I brought the other to you." "The number's pretty meaningful." I almost laughed. My fifth anniversary gift was the matching extra from his couple set with another woman. I placed the necklace back into the box. "What if tomorrow she says she missed another challenge?" James paused. "What?" "If this round ends and she wants to start over…" I looked him in the eyes. "Will you do it again?" He did not answer. My voice stayed calm. "James, starting today, whatever happens between you and Zara has nothing to do with me." He looked at me like he did not understand. However, I did not explain. Some things only needed to be said once. Chapter 2 The day I went back to the office, I submitted an internal transfer request to HR. The company was putting together a new project team in Luminous City. The person in charge looked through my file, then glanced up at me. "Yvonne, are you sure? "Once the project is approved, you'll have to leave within 2 weeks." I nodded. "I'm sure." He took the paperwork from me. "The interview is next Monday. Get yourself ready." After leaving HR, I went back to my desk and started sorting through my files. That afternoon, James stopped beside my desk. "What are you doing?" "Handing over my work." "What about the livestream setup?" he asked. "I didn't do it," I said quietly. His voice dropped. "Yvonne, this isn't the time to be difficult." I looked up at him. "That is your personal account, not my job." James seemed caught off guard. His tone softened. "I'm just used to coming to you first." I smiled. "Are you used to relying on me, or are you used to having me clean up your messes with Zara?" He went silent for a moment. Then he set his thermos on my desk. "Hot tea. Drink it while it's warm. Do not drink it cold." With that, he turned and walked away. When I got back to the apartment after work, camera equipment was scattered across the floor. Zara stood in the living room, adjusting a camera lens. "Yvonne, I'm filming a newlywed experience video. I'm moving in for a few days." Couples' pillows had already been arranged around the living room. James came out from the other room. "It's only 3 days. If we suddenly change locations, the fans will get suspicious." I said nothing and walked straight into the bedroom. The closet doors were wide open. My clothes had been stuffed into cardboard boxes and piled in the corner. Meanwhile, Zara's dresses filled half the closet. Even the framed photo of James and me that used to sit on the nightstand was gone. In its place was a picture of James and Zara celebrating the day their account passed 1 million followers. James followed me into the room. "You can sleep in the study for these 3 days." I picked up one of the boxes. "Who gave you permission to move my things?" "It's only temporary." He frowned. "Yvonne, do not make this into a bigger deal than it is." Zara appeared in the doorway and spoke softly. "Maybe I should film at a hotel instead." James did not hesitate. "No. A hotel will not have the right homey feel." I crouched down and started gathering the things from my nightstand. A corner of a hospital bag from the OB‑GYN clinic was sticking out from the very back. Zara spotted it. She reached for it. "What's this?" James grabbed it first. He looked down at the bag, and his expression changed. For a second, I thought he was finally going to ask me what it was. However, Zara suddenly gripped the doorframe, her voice shaky. "James, my period still hasn't come. Do you think something's wrong? "Tomorrow's livestream is going to be pretty intense. I'm a little scared." James immediately turned toward her. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow." As he spoke, he casually stuffed the hospital bag into Zara's suitcase. As if he had already decided it belonged to her. I stood there, and suddenly, I did not want to say another word. I picked up my boxes and walked out. James hurried after me and grabbed my arm. "Where are you going?" "Moving out." His fingers tightened around my arm. "Do not say that. "Zara's only staying for 3 days." I pressed the elevator button. "It's fine. Give her the space." As the elevator doors slowly closed, James was still standing outside, staring at me. For the first time, he looked a little panicked. However, he did not follow me. Chapter 3 Once I settled into my short‑term rental, I went back to polishing my application for the new position. The day before the anniversary celebration, James called me into his office. "Tomorrow's the anniversary event. Zara will be giving the presentation instead. Those old garage photos are still online, and having you two appear together could affect the company." I leaned back in my chair. "The proposal I created, and she gets to present it?" "You're not losing any credit." He said it like it was no big deal. I stared at him. "Five years ago, you told me to put up with it for a while. You said things would be fine once the attention died down. "Five years have passed, and you're still asking me to hide. "James, are you really protecting me, or are you protecting the two of you?" His face darkened little by little. "This is the company's decision." "No." I pushed the documents back across the desk. "This is just what you've gotten used to. You're used to making me step aside." The door opened. Zara stood in the doorway wearing a formal evening gown, one hand gathering the skirt. I recognized that dress. It was the one James had gone shopping with me to try on before our fifth‑anniversary dinner. He had told me I would look beautiful in it. Now Zara was wearing it. Around her neck was the necklace with the number 100. When Zara saw me, she looked almost uncomfortable. "Yvonne, I didn't mean to. James said the final challenge needed a little ceremony, so he let me borrow it." James jumped in immediately. "She'll give it back when it's over." I did not look at him. I pulled out my phone and uploaded the complete proposal, along with all my original drafts and creation records, to the company system. "It's all clearly documented in the system. Whoever presents it is fine." On the day of the celebration, Zara stood onstage presenting the project. The audience erupted in applause. The host praised her enthusiastically. "Zara, you've really surprised us! Your videos are great, and now your planning is this impressive too." A coworker beside me sighed in admiration. "No wonder she and Mr. Porter managed to build the account into what it is. "She really got lucky. Love and career, she has it all." I opened my phone. A confirmation notification from the new project team was waiting for me. I replied: [I accept.] Then the host handed the microphone back to Zara. "Are you announcing the hundredth challenge today?" Zara slipped her arm around James. "We want to have a livestream wedding." The entire room exploded with cheers. The cameras immediately swung toward James. He froze. The host laughed and pressed him for an answer. "Mr. Porter, are you willing?" Zara was already holding onto his arm, waiting for him to speak. I did not stay to hear his answer. I got up and walked out. I had barely reached the corner backstage when a sudden, heavy pain dropped through my lower abdomen. I grabbed the wall. My face went white. A few seconds later, blood began pouring down my legs again. I slowly sank to the floor, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. Footsteps sounded behind me. "Yvonne!" James came running over and crouched in front of me. "What happened?" He reached out to help me up. Then a sudden commotion erupted from the stage. Someone shouted, "Zara fell! Someone get over here!" James glanced back toward the stage. Then he looked at me. "Wait here. I need to check on her." He stood up and ran. I stayed crouched on the floor, watching his back disappear. Somehow, the pain did not feel quite as sharp anymore. I pulled out my phone myself and called an ambulance. At 10 that night, I was lying in a hospital bed again. The doctor told me my recovery after the procedure had not gone well. I had not been resting enough lately either. "You need complete rest," he said. While I was getting an IV, James sent me a voice message. "Yvonne, don't make a scene today. "Zara's foot isn't seriously hurt, but we can't cancel the meet‑and‑greet. "The livestream wedding hasn't been planned yet. You're the best at knowing how to handle these things. Write up a plan and give it to me tomorrow." I listened to the whole thing. Then I deleted the voice message. I opened my email and sent out my transfer confirmation. Before closing the app, I sent him one final message. [The livestream wedding script should be written by the man who actually wants to marry her.] After sending it, I removed James from my pinned chats. Chapter 4 After I was discharged, I applied to start the closed‑door training program early and turned in my phone. Once I finished packing, there was only one thing left on the table. It was a paper bag with James's name written on it. On Saturday afternoon, I went to the office to finish my resignation paperwork. By evening, I returned to the apartment for the final inspection. The elevator doors opened, and James came rushing out. He looked around the empty apartment, his expression darkening. "What's this about you quitting?" I looked at him. "It means exactly what it says." He stepped closer. "The livestream wedding was just for the show. Once today is over, all of this ends." I stared at him. "You've been saying that for five years." He fell silent. Right then, his phone rang. Zara's name lit up the screen. She was calling to hurry him along. After it rang three times, he finally answered. Her voice came through, frantic. "James, where are you? "The livestream is about to start. If you don't come, it's all over." I stood there, watching him hold the phone in silence for several seconds. Then he said, "I'm on my way." He hung up and looked at me. "Don't leave yet. Wait until I get back. We'll talk then." I did not answer. His eyes drifted toward the paper bag in the room, as if he wanted to take it with him, or maybe leave it behind. In the end, he turned and stepped back into the elevator. Just before the doors closed, he called out, "Yvonne, today really matters. "Wait for me. Just this once." At eight that night, I got into a car headed for the airport. Before turning in my phone, I checked the trending searches one last time. Zara was standing onstage in a wedding dress, smiling as she announced that the so‑called Hundredth Challenge was not actually a wedding. It was simply the grand finale of the five‑year couple challenge they had been doing all this time. The livestream chat instantly flooded with congratulations. However, not long after, the host pulled out a document. "During a recent advertising compliance review, our sponsor requested that both of you sign a statement confirming the authenticity of your relationship." The host looked between them. "So, I need to confirm something. Are you two actually a couple in real life?" The camera cut to James. Zara grabbed his hand, her eyes red. "We've made it all the way to the final step. Don't let five years of effort go to waste." The audience waited. The camera zoomed in, and the host held out a pen. The answer had actually been there for a long time. A few seconds later, James took the pen and signed his name. The livestream erupted in cheers. I locked my phone and handed it to the training coordinator. I never looked back. Meanwhile, during a break in the livestream, the company head hurried over to James. "Why haven't you approved Yvonne's resignation yet? "She finished all her paperwork today. The new project team is leaving tonight." James's face changed instantly. "What did you say?" "You didn't know she quit?" The head frowned. "She's starting the closed‑door training early. Her flight is tonight. She should be boarding soon." The moment he finished speaking, James turned and ran. He was halfway to the airport when he suddenly remembered the paper bag was still in his car. He tore it open and looked inside. After reading what was in it, he called me over and over like a man losing his mind.