I Had to Die for You to Finally Love Me

I once loved Logan with a foolish, fearless devotion.

But just because I accidentally broke a necklace belonging to his precious childhood sweetheart, he expelled me from Nashville without a second thought.

In the worst days that followed, I slept under bridges, picked through garbage, and served drinks in shady bars just to survive.

Later, we met again—inside a shoe boutique.

He had come to buy a lavish birthday gift for his childhood sweetheart.

A wealthy, extravagant VIP.

And I... was nothing more than a shop assistant in a cheap uniform.

He looked at me with that cold, detached gaze, as if he had never once felt anything for me.

Until I knelt on the floor to help his sweetheart try on shoes.

Logan let out a mocking laugh. "Shirley, is this what you've turned yourself into after leaving me?"

I kept my head lowered and said nothing.

He continued, pretending to be magnanimous. "As long as you kneel here and sincerely apologize to Jillian, I'll let you return as my fiancée. How about that?"

I shook my head.

No need.

Once, I received this month's salary and paid for my dog's treatment... I planned to die.

I had late-stage breast cancer. No one wanted me anymore—not even life itself.

——

The moment I refused, everyone in the boutique froze.

Even Logan's little sweetheart, Jillian, stared at me.

Logan's eyes grew dangerously cold.

But I didn't delude myself into thinking he was angry for my sake. After all, he had pushed me step by step into this ruin—all for another woman.

Sensing the tension, someone tried to mediate. "Shirley, just give in. It's only an apology—it won't kill you!"

Because Jillian wasn't done trying on shoes, I was still kneeling in humiliation.

The cold floor dug sharply into my knees. Despite that, my voice remained stubborn. "But I really didn't do those things."

The air grew heavy again.

Jillian lifted her innocent little face and softly tugged Logan's sleeve.

"Logan, I really don't mind," she murmured. "Don't make things harder for Shirley."

Then she turned to me, her tone dripping with false kindness. "Shirley, even if you wanted Logan's sympathy, you didn't need to make yourself look this miserable."

"Look at you—a spoiled rich young lady—working as a shop assistant?"

"Be good. Just apologize and come home with us, hmm?"

Just like before, she twisted everything, pushing all blame onto me... And making Logan hate me even more.

And like always, it worked.

Logan's anger deepened. His handsome brows knotted as he glared at me with disgust. "You're still defending her."

"If she hadn't deliberately broken your father's keepsake, how would you have been so devastated that your heart condition still hasn't recovered?"

"She should be kneeling and knocking her head on the floor a hundred times for you!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. Then he pointed at the rows of shoes on the shelf. "Since you're so stubborn, do your job properly."

"All of these—bring them for Jillian to try."

Seeing Logan like this, Jillian's friends chimed in excitedly, "Well, since the famous Miss Gomez is personally serving us—bring me a couple pairs too!"

"And remember, I want kneeling service!"

"Hahaha, if we're doing kneeling service, I want to try some too."

"If you do it well, I'll tip you."

"How about a thousand?"

Their mockery made a sharp pain bloom in my chest.

But... a thousand dollars.

With a thousand, I could finally treat my little dog's pancreatitis.