"Bunny, are you gonna come out of bed soon?" Your mom asked as you heard the door creak.
You whined, pulling the covers over your head as you turned to sleep on your left side. You did not want to leave bed at all. That wasn't in the plan for this week. The plan being: sleep, eat, go to the toilet and cry, sleep again and repeat the whole process.
"You can't stay up here forever," she said as she sat at the edge of your bed and placed her hand on your calf.
"I can and I will," you mumbled.
She sighed. "We need help at the cafe. It'll be good if you get out, get some fresh air, talk to some people, instead of watching reality TV everyday."
"I don't want to."
Your mom paused. You felt her slip her hand away. "He's sent you flowers again."
"He has?" You took the covers away from your face, looking your mother in the eyes. You didn't know why it made you happy. Maybe you thought he still cared for you or wanted to be with you, but you were the one who ended it. You sighed, aware of your stupidity. "Nevermind. Just—throw them away."
"Oh, sweetheart," she said as she comforted you. "It's okay to miss him. You're allowed to."
"But he's a dick."
She let out a soft snort as she sighed. "You know, I think he does love you–"
"He doesn't. He made that clear."
"Let me finish," she said and you shut your mouth. "The night I caught you two in the car–"
"The night you punched him?"
"Jesus, can you let me speak for one second?"
"Sorry." You laughed.
She paused as she shook her head. "By the end of the night, I could just tell there was something special there. The way he looked at you and how desperate he was for me to like him... He loves you. He does. But I'm not sure what's stopping him from saying it."
"If this is supposed to make me feel better, it's not. Now, I want to take him back, which you know I'm not allowed to do."
"I'm not saying take him back. I'm saying, if you're upset because you think he doesn't love you, it's not true. There's probably something that's keeping him from saying it."
"I don't know." You tutted. "He's never really mentioned anything about love in his past. I just know he has an ex wife."
"That could be it, you never know."
You shrugged, turning back to your side and shutting your eyes closed.
"So, you're staying in honeybun?"
You groaned, crossing your arms. You weren't sleeping. Even though you were sitting in bed everyday for the past two weeks, you hadn't ever gone to sleep. Your body couldn't, it wasn't something you were capable of anymore. You ended up watching whatever show was available each and every night and day. You were exhausted physically and emotionally.
"No, I'll come help at the café. Just give me a minute to get dressed."
"Good girl," she said and patted you on your leg before leaving your room.
All you wanted to do was cry, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option, one cup of tears wasn't on the list of ingredients for cinnamon rolls. So, instead you placed both hands on the counter, the stand mixer sitting between them and took three deep breaths before going back to following your dad's family recipe. Suck it up, you thought. Suck. It. Up. You clapped the flour dust off your hands and proceeded to wipe them against your apron.
Obviously, you had already mentally organised a long list of why you shouldn't take Kylo back in your head after what happened the other night, which included:
1. He could only tell you he loved you when he was drunk.
2. He almost hit you with a rock because once again, he was drunk.
3. He can't open up to you naturally.
4. He's reckless.
5. He only realised your importance to him once you left him.
Your biggest problem, however, was that he was Kylo Ren. The greatest relationship you had ever experienced, but it was time to forget it, and holy shit it was going to crush you unbelievably.
"Hey, girly," Troy said as he walked into the kitchen.
"What do you want? I know what 'girly' means," you said.
"I need a favour."
"What is it?"
"My assistant quit," he said and grimaced.
"She quit or you fired her?"
"Same thing, different words."
You laughed as you rolled out the dough.
"Anyway, can you be my assistant for today, please?"
You scoffed. "I'm a little busy here, Troy."
"Well, you can ask your mom to give you the day off."
"She'll probably say–"
"You can go, love," your mom yells from the other room.
Your mouth was agape as you chuckled. You weren't exactly a big fan of being bossed around by Troy, but the offer was very tempting. If you could keep yourself busy, then you wouldn't have time to think about Kylo.
You sighed. "You know what, sure. Whatever stops me thinking about him."
"That's the spirit," he said, patting you on the back. "Now, get dressed in something nice—meaning, take that horrible apron off."
"Yes, sir."
You were being overworked, but weirdly, it felt liberating. Finally, you weren't wallowing in despair, thinking about your ex-boyfriend. You were tired, sweaty, heaving, but at least you had something to do. Troy had forced you to pick up his favourite coffee—Apple Crisp Oat Milk Frappuccino, his clothes from the dry cleaners, and now you were on your way to pick up an order from Dior. Troy worked for a runway magazine and he was one of the most respected people in the industry. You were on a roll, and everything was going correctly.
"Hi, I have an order for fifty belts under the name of Troy Buckley," you said, pulling your phone out.
"Could you just show me the receipt, please?" The cashier said and you showed him the screenshot Troy sent you. You had never really gone into a designer store before and you were shocked by how opulent all the workers were. "Okay, I'll be back in just a second."
"Okay," you said, placing your hands on the front desk and tapping your fingers against it as you watched him go into the storage area.
Troy: How's it going?
You: At Dior, only one task left after this.
Troy: You are truly the greatest friend in existence.
You: I know.
Troy: I'll literally give you a 200k salary to keep working for me.
You: Haha. This is only temporary and you know I don't wanna be an assistant for the rest of my life.
Troy: I know :( You'll forever be my favourite, though.
You: Aww, you're so sweet - I'm not becoming a full time assistant.
Troy: Whatever. I tried.
You froze as you heard your name called out. You knew who it was, it was easy to tell from the pain in his voice. You inhaled a deep breath before turning to look at him, and there he was again, the same mess as last week, ruffled hair, dark circles, eyebags, only this time his stubble was gone. It was still horrible witnessing his clearly visible suffering.
"Hi," you said, waving awkwardly.
"Hi," he said.
It was so quiet. Neither of the two of you knew what to say. You just looked at each other, and that was enough to tell all of your thoughts of I hate you, but I still care for you, but I also want to strangle you, but can we just make up and forget about it? You would never say those words out loud, especially the last part. You really wanted him to understand how much he hurt you.
"So, erm, what are you doing here?" You said, crossing your arms out of discomfort.
"Ah, Mr Ren," a worker at the shop said. "I'll go pick up your purse right now. It's perfectly gift-wrapped, just as you requested."
"Thank you," he said.
You watched as the worker walked away. Why would Kylo ever buy a gift-wrapped purse? Realisation hit you as you looked at the fear in his eyes, he was buying it for a girl. That was the only explanation, why else would he be scared?
"So, you're picking up a purse," you said. "Nice. I hope she likes it."
"I hope so too." Suspicions confirmed. "I never know what to get my mom for her birthday."
"Oh," you said.
He pressed his lips together. "Wha-what are you doing here?"
"Picking up stuff for Troy."
He paused. "Is this what you work as now?"
"No." You laughed. "That would be torture. I'm just doing this for quick money and... other reasons."
"You need money?"
"Well, just temporarily," you said. "I'm unemployed, so until I get a job."
"I can give you money," he said. "If you need anything, you can let me know."
"Kylo, don't..." You sighed. "Don't say that. You can't just give me money."
"Why not? It's not like I'm going to run out any time soon."
"Because we're not together. You can't spoil me anymore."
He furrowed his brows as he crossed his arms. "You were fine taking money before we dated."
"That was different, I was working for y—you know what I'm not doing this." You turned around, pretending as if you were waiting for the cashier to come back with Troy's order.
He sighed. "I just want to help you." It almost sounded like a whisper. "I want to make it up to you."
You closed your eyes. He was making it so difficult not to turn around and embrace him. "I know. But it's not the same anymore, you can't just do that."
He went quiet for a few seconds. You didn't know what he was doing or thinking, your back still facing him. "I know I can't. And I'm sorry about the other night, I don't know what came over me."
"It's fine, just—you need to move on, Kylo, for both of us." You knew you hadn't moved on yet and that you would never be able to move on, but you hoped that this would be a wake up call for him to give you some much needed space.
"Okay," he said and sighed. "But I want you to know." He leaned forwards, his head close to your ear as he whispered, "you were the first person who ever showed me what it feels like to be loved and I'm so grateful to you. I know I was a shitty boyfriend. I couldn't believe that someone like you actually loved me." He paused. "I love you, and it's stupid that I'm only saying it now, I realise that, and you don't have to take me back, but I just wanted to tell you."
"Here you are, Mr Ren," the Dior worker said as he handed Kylo a bag. You let out a long shaky exhale as you crossed your arms. What. The. Fuck.
"I am never working for you again," you said as you entered Troy's office with seven, seven shopping bags in your hand.
"You said that last time and look at you now," Troy said, leaning back in his chair. "But thank you, you're the best."
"You're welcome, my good friend," you said. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"
"Hmm," Troy said, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "Hang out with me?"
"Oh, god," you said sarcastically. "Only if you give me extra payment."
"Haha," Troy said. "I'm almost done for today, anyway, so it won't be too long."
"I'm kidding. Of course I'll hang out with you."
"Thank you."
"So, what are you doing now?" You asked, sitting on the armchair.
"I'm just sending this really famous designer—you wouldn't know him—the pictures we took of the shoot today with his new line. We had six photographers for efficiency there and one of them hasn't sent me the pictures yet and isn't responding to me. Needless to say, I will never work with him again."
"Who's the designer?" You say.
"Pierres Gardinier."
"Yeah, I don't know him."
"Told you." Troy laughed. "How was your day?"
You thought about telling him what happened, but you knew he was going to make it a massive deal. "Really awful, actually. This guy showed up to the cafe and then forced me to be his assistant for the day and then made me run around the city all day until I basically died."
"That sounds horrible," Troy said sarcastically. "I cannot believe that anyone would do such a thing."
"People nowadays." You tutted.
"I hear you, girl," he said and chuckled.
Your phone suddenly started ringing. It was an unknown number. You looked at it for a few seconds. Normally, you would never answer a phone call from a random number, but you were feeling confident today. "Hello?"
"Hi, is this Scarlett Williams?" It was a man's voice.
You paused, standing up and walking out of the room as you shut the door slowly behind you. "Who is this?"
"It's Han. Han Solo."
Your stomach dropped and your eyes widened. Fuck, shit, piss, balls, fuck, fuck, fuck. "Oh, hi, this is she."
"Oh, good. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"
You heard him clear his throat. "Listen, I'll be blunt with you. I know you're not actually Scarlett Williams, and that Scarlett Williams doesn't even exist. I also know you were paid to be Kylo's fake girlfriend to trick us."
"I really sorry, sir–"
"And I know that you and Kylo did end up dating eventually and now you're not together."
You went quiet, mouth agape. You didn't know what this phone call was for, to ridicule you or to question you. "I'm really sorry. Kylo just had this whole plan so that you wouldn't drop your investments. I didn't mean to lie to you."
"It's fine," he said. "That's not why I'm calling."
"Oh?"
He paused. "Listen, I'm not going to tell you to take him back, that's completely your decision, but for the first time in years, Kylo's coming home more often to visit us. That's not normal. He came home a week ago and just hugged us for a really long time without saying anything. He's never done that before—hell, I can't even remember the last time he hugged us."
"Sir, that's incredible, but you don't know what happened–"
"He loves you, okay? I know he does. His ex-wife, she just... She fucked him up."
You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean?"
"She was only with him for the money. Kylo loved her with all his heart, but she didn't love him. When the marriage was close to ending, it went really ugly. She convinced him that he could never love anyone or ever be loved, she told him he was a monster incapable of doing that. Their whole relationship, she would gaslight him to the point where he genuinely thought that the only reason a woman could ever love him was for his money. Of course, she didn't love him, even if he did have money."
"Han–"
"It's not that he doesn't love you, he's just convinced that's something he can't do. Even the word 'love' gives him flashbacks of her."
"I... I don't know," you said. "I wish I could've heard this from Kylo."
"I get it. But you have to understand, Kylo isn't an easy person to deal with, you know that. He's not going to open up to you unless you ask him."