Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 304 Nathaniel's POV The last few days had been their own special kind of torture. My morning routine had turned into a pathetic ritual: pick up my phone, type out a message to Annie, delete it, rewrite it, delete it again-until I finally landed on something that didn't sound too desperate. Good morning felt safe. Asking how she was felt risky-it might come across like I was demanding a response. Sometimes I commented on something mundane from my day, hoping it would sound casual. It was an impossible balance between staying present and not invading the space she so clearly needed.

Every word was weighed and reweighed before I hit send. Every message was a careful attempt to show I hadn't given up, without sounding like I was begging. But the worst part came after every message was sent. My heart raced every time my phone lit up with a notification, some ridiculously hopeful part of me convinced it might be Annie. That maybe this time she'd decided to talk. That maybe she was ready to hear me. It never was. It was always work emails, app notifications, messages from other people who couldn't hold my attention for more than two seconds.

Disappointment became a constant companion, a familiar weight settling in my chest with every false alarm. I tried distracting myself in every way possible. I went back to the gym with an intensity I hadn't had in months. I ran through the streets of London until my lungs burned. I read books I couldn't actually absorb. None of it fully worked. Annie was always there, on the edges of every thought, in every silence between words when I talked to other people. The guilt was constant and corrosive.

I replayed a thousand different scenarios where I could have told her the truth-perfect moments I'd let slip by out of fear or terrible timing. That night on the bridge in Bath, when I almost confessed everything. The intimate moments we shared when honesty should have mattered most. Every missed opportunity haunted me. Then Gwen called, somehow making everything even worse-if that was possible. "Nate, you're an idiot," she said without preamble the second I answered. "Hi, Gwen. Good morning to you too." "Don't get sarcastic with me.

her own." The guilt intensified, turning almost physical. "I was going to tell her- 11 "When?" she cut in. "When exactly were you planning

That's on you. You should've told her from the beginning. Or at least when you realized you were actually falling in love with her." "I know," I admitted miserably. "I

my family I allowed myself to open up to, mostly because I trusted him to keep it to himself. I called him one night when I couldn't hold it

thing can't go on forever." "She doesn't want to talk to me." "Maybe she's just not ready yet. That doesn't mean she never will be." His words gave me a small spark of hope, though I wasn't sure I deserved to feel it. Alexandra tried to get in touch several times, clearly sniffing out drama and opportunity. She didn't know about

asking what I was doing for New Year's, whether I needed a date for the company party, if Annie and I were going together. I ignored every single one. The last thing I needed was to hand Alexandra more ammunition for her games. Tori, on the other hand, called every five minutes with party-related questions that revealed both her excitement and her social anxiety. "Nate, what color should I wear? Is royal blue too much for a