He’s My One True Love 8

The hand that had been wrapped around Sarah’s waist suddenly let go.
Shane turned toward the voice behind him. “Okay, just send it to me.”
From Sarah’s angle, all she could see was the side of his face.
Even without seeing his eyes, she could still feel it—that subtle distance, that warm gentleness he only gave to Nora.
“Sarah, did I interrupt something?” Nora’s tone was soft and innocent.
Though her words were directed at Sarah, her gaze clearly lingered on the man standing beside her.
Just one expression—and it was enough to make any man fall.
“You didn’t interrupt. We weren’t doing anything,” Shane replied calmly.
Yet somehow, it sounded like an explanation. An awkward one.
It felt exactly like a boyfriend getting caught by his girlfriend and scrambling to explain.
Only, Sarah was the girlfriend.
“Really? I thought maybe you two were about to…”
Nora didn’t finish the sentence, but her meaning was crystal clear.
Sarah found it ridiculous, yet her face remained calm. “It’s late. I’m heading home.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Shane took the jacket from Sarah’s hand, his body language suggesting both a desire to stay close to Nora and an attempt to keep some distance from Sarah.
“Shane, can I ride with you two?” Nora asked sweetly.
“Of course,” Shane answered without hesitation.
But Nora’s gaze shifted toward Sarah. “But Sarah hasn’t said yes yet.”
Sarah’s anger was starting to rise, but she forced it down. “You’re riding in Mr. Shane’s car. You don’t need my permission.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked toward the elevator.
She could practically picture how gently Shane would be looking at Nora now.
But her heart didn’t stir anymore.
In just over twenty days, she’d be gone—back to Capital City to get married.
Small things like this didn’t matter anymore.
In the parking garage, Sarah instinctively reached for the passenger-side door.
“Sarah, I get carsick in the back. Would you mind letting me sit up front?”
That soft voice drifted into Sarah’s ear.
Her hand, still reaching for the door handle, paused.
“Sarah, Nora gets pretty bad motion sickness,” Shane added, his voice low and gentle. “Maybe let her sit up front this time? You don’t mind… right?”
The last part was practically whispered into her ear, as if he didn’t want Nora to overhear.
A chill spread through Sarah’s chest.
It was hard to explain the feeling.
That seat had always been hers. Shane had never let anyone else sit there before.
But now Nora was here—and even that seat had to be handed over.
It was fine. She was giving the man to her, too. What difference did a seat make?
Suppressing the bitterness, Sarah replied calmly, “Sure.”
Her obedience caught Shane off guard.
He’d expected her to throw a fit. But instead, she agreed almost too quickly.
She opened the back door and slipped into the rear seat.
As soon as the car started moving, Shane and Nora began chatting up front. Though the conversation was about work, it made Sarah feel like a third wheel.
Like she was a glowing lightbulb, sitting between a couple who clearly belonged together.
They looked more like lovers than she ever had with Shane.
At a turn in the road, a small dog suddenly darted out.
Sarah opened her mouth to shout, but Shane had already slammed on the brakes.
The rain had made the road slick. The tires skidded, and the car continued to slide forward.
Sarah’s head hit the back of the passenger seat hard, pain flaring across her forehead.
She gasped, clenching her jaw as she instinctively reached up to cradle the spot.
Her head spun from the impact.
When the car finally came to a stop, Sarah looked up—only to see Shane turned toward Nora, concern written all over his face.
“Nora, are you okay?”
His voice was soft as silk. And it pierced straight through Sarah’s chest.
Shane had never asked her that way. Not with that kind of tenderness.
Even when she’d been hurt before, his voice had never sounded like that.
“I’m fine,” Nora replied, then glanced back. “Sarah, did you hit your head? I thought I heard you cry out…”
She emphasized heard you cry out, as if to point out that while Sarah was the one in pain, Shane’s first concern had still been for someone else.
A subtle jab, hidden under false concern.
“I’m fine,” Sarah said quietly, her voice cold.
Only then did Shane glance back at her. “Sarah, did you get hurt?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s just get home.”
She dropped her gaze, her tone flat.
“Sarah, are you mad?” Nora turned around, her voice still sweet. “Shane asked me first because I was closest. He didn’t mean to ignore you—please don’t take it the wrong way.”
Don’t take it the wrong way?
Sarah didn’t even feel angry anymore. Just numb.
She saw through Nora’s game clearly now—trying to provoke her, hoping to wedge her further apart from Shane.
Sarah smiled faintly, saying nothing.
Shane glanced at her, clearly confused.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d really overlooked that detail without realizing.
When they got home, Sarah was about to head to her room when Shane grabbed her arm in the hallway.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but then—
“Shane, I think the faucet in my room’s leaking. Can you come take a look?”
Nora’s voice floated out from down the hall.
Sarah saw Shane hesitate for a moment.
Then he pulled his hand away.
She walked off toward the guest room with calm, steady steps.
Just as she closed the door, she caught a glimpse of Shane being pulled into Nora’s room.
So bold, so blatant. It was exactly the kind of thing Nora would do.
A long time ago, she would’ve lost her temper.
But now, watching Shane walk into another woman’s room, she felt something else entirely.
Relief.
It was over.
Soon, she’d be back in Capital City. Moments like these—there wouldn’t be many left.
After showering, Sarah headed downstairs to get a glass of water.
As she passed the room that used to be hers, she heard a soft, coquettish voice drift through the door.
“Shane, my wrist got sore turning the faucet just now… can you help me dry my hair?”