Ophelia was the epitome of grace in her sky-high stilettos, mingling among the guests with a smile that belied the searing pain in her heels. She had been enduring the discomfort all evening, but a moment of weakness had betrayed her to Jonathan.

Jonathan had always been headstrong.

Their families, observing the bond between them, turned a blind eye to the little indiscretions of young love.

Seeking solace in the sanctuary of a quiet lounge, Jonathan located a first-aid kit. He knelt before her, reaching out to tend to Ophelia's injured foot.

Ophelia flinched, instinctively pulling back. "Jonathan..."

There was no need for him to go to such lengths.

Jonathan, usually easygoing, could be imperious when he chose to be.

Ignoring her protests, he gently took her foot, removed her shoe, and with meticulous care, dabbed at the wound with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. He then applied a band-aid and handed her a pair of comfortable ballet flats. "Don't wear those shoes anymore. Put these on."

Ophelia frowned. "I can't possibly..."

of pairing a

Jonathan urged, his grip firm

She found

poured her a glass of honey water. "You've had quite a bit to

so harsh with

kindness, rarely speaking ill of

a surprise

used to fancy?" Jonathan downed a glass of the sweet liquid, his voice laced with disbelief. "Hard

Ophelia was puzzled.

he questioning

who didn't love me, then it's my own fault.

sharper without the cloud of romance. "Given my status, if she wasn't in love with me, then she was after my name. So why should I hold back any

wouldn't let Ophelia suffer for someone

you had feelings for," Ophelia confirmed. "You did a lot for her, even had a falling-out

took her hands with solemnity. "Ophelia, I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. From

"Jonathan, if you ever

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