When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

“You didn’t say that the last time,” Justin finally managed uncertainly. He looked immensely vulnerable, his heart having been promptly ripped to shreds before an entire crowd.

Stella looked at him coldly. “What else did you want me to say, then? I thought I’d refused you obviously enough. Couldn’t you tell?”

At that, Justin hung his head, deflated. Even the vibrant bouquet he’d brandished confidently before now hung crumpled before him. Justin had bitterly wrung it in his despair. “Why? Is it because I’m not rich enough? Or that I…”

“It’s none of those reasons! I don’t love you. It has nothing to do with your money or your abilities at all. I don’t love you, pure and simple. You can go now. I’m begging you, please don’t embarrass me like that ever again, OK?” I’d only ever been exposed to the sunny, endearing side of Stella. Thus, I was rather startled to see that she was capable of such harshness as well.

I dragged Ashton with me out of the lobby, then sighed longingly. “After so many years at university, no one has ever confessed their love to me so grandly before. It only works if the person you’re proposing to love you back, of course. But I rather like this heady rush of emotions and romance.”

Ashton’s grip on my arm tightened slightly. “What do you like?”

Glancing at his sober expression, I laughed. “I like the impulsive, romantic ways of these youths. Since we’ve gotten older, I haven’t been feeling many strong bursts of emotions. Life doesn’t seem as exciting anymore.”

Upon that, Ashton pulled me to face him. Gravely, he asked, “Are you tired of me because I’m old?”

Is Ashton approaching menopause? I wondered wryly.

didn’t say you were old. I meant that I admired youths for their wholehearted and energetic approach to life. I’ve been motivated to

“What wholehearted and energetic things do

his words. I should have known better than to talk

a little too brightly. “Let’s not dwell on such things!

away from Ashton’s steel grip

face resurfaced in my mind, and I

time, John had indeed already reached the restaurant and was midway through his meal. Looking at the half-eaten dishes spread out over the table, as well as the nearly empty bottle of wine, I cried ruefully, “Mr. Stovall,

for a waiter to bring another round of dishes. “I had to fill my stomach first before the sight of you two

John, then sidled into the

honest life. All the ammunition that those green-eyed monsters have against

John fervently discussed the state of the market between glasses of wine. I

the stall, I heard a woman’s voice saying, “Don’t you pity Rebecca? Her

woman used to be with Mr. Crest. Clearly, Mr. Quinn isn’t too picky. After all,

right. Don’t forget, Rebecca was tossed aside after Mr. Fuller got tired of her too. These rich people have no morals at all. They treat women and