The gift she never got to give

Chapter One: The Gift She Never Got to Give

Vivienne still remembered the scent of the vanilla cake she never got to deliver.

She had stayed up all night decorating it herself—blue frosting, silver stars, and the words "To my Moonlight" piped across in careful handwriting. It was her boyfriend’s birthday. She wanted it to be perfect. She had spent weeks collecting his favorite records, printing polaroids of their quiet moments, even learning how to wrap a gift box properly because he once joked about how bad she was at it.

She had no idea.

No idea that while she was tying a silver bow over his gift, he was unwrapping someone else.

The first sign came as a message. A simple, brutal line blinking on her phone screen:

"You're too innocent for me, Vivienne. This won’t work anymore."

She’d stared at the words, frozen in her kitchen, cake knife in hand.

No explanation. No phone call. Just a verdict—too innocent.

Still holding the cake, still clutching the gift, she went to his apartment anyway. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe he was drunk or hurting. Maybe it was a joke.

She still remembers knocking. The sound of music inside. The creak of the unlocked door.

She remembers the cold silence that followed when she stepped in and saw him.

Shirtless.

With someone else in his bed. Her legs tangled in his. His laugh careless.

They didn’t see her right away.

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t drop the cake. Didn’t scream or cry. She just… stood there.

Then slowly, she placed the cake on his kitchen counter. Set the gift box beside it.

And left.

That night, she didn’t sleep. She didn’t cry. She just stared at her ceiling and felt something inside her quietly collapse.

For weeks after the breakup, Vivienne moved like a ghost stitched in silk—polite smiles, bowed head, soft yeses.

No one knew her hands had trembled while deleting his pictures.

No one knew she still had the gift receipt folded in her diary.

No one knew she couldn’t bear to touch vanilla cake anymore.

Her friends called her too sweet, too forgiving, too "Soft for this world."

But softness didn’t protect her.

Softness didn’t stop her from watching the man she loved laugh with someone else in the bed they once talked about sharing.

What hurt the most wasn’t the cheating.

It was the message:

"You're too innocent for me."

As if being kind was a flaw.

As if love needed darkness to feel real.

Vivienne began to wonder:

Was there something wrong with her ?

Was love only real if it was rough? Raw? ruthless ?

One lonely night, she typed it into a browser. A stupid, desperate search:

["How to not be innocent." ]

What popped up was laughable at first—articles, videos, forums. But then…

A name.

A site.

A profile.

Rented Boyfriend. Confidential. No questions. Full discretion.

His name was Christopher .

And his bio said only this:

> "I Don't do love. I teach you what comes After it."

He looked like every warning label she’d been raised to avoid.

Tattooed wrists. Lazy smirk. Scar over one eyebrow like a forgotten story.

But that night, her finger hovered over Hire

And this time… she clicked.

Because if being innocent was a curse—

She was ready to be undone.

she searched for something reckless—something opposite of what she had always been.

Christopher.

A rented boyfriend. Dangerous by description. Untouched by sentiment.

The kind of man who didn’t send breakup texts—he sent warnings.

And in that moment, Vivienne didn’t want a prince.

She wanted the villain.

Because if love was going to hurt, she at least wanted to choose the knife.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***