Nichole realized James was serious this time. She gripped her fists tightly. Although she was reluctant, she couldn't afford to lose control of her emotions at the moment. "It's very cold outside. Can you take me home first?"

"I will drive you home, but I won't come up," James stated firmly.

Nichole managed a weak smile. "Okay, I won't insist."

James let Nichole into the car.

Regardless, she could still stay in that apartment. It meant she still had a chance.

It was late when they arrived, and true to his word, James did not accompany Nichole upstairs.

Nichole took the elevator to her apartment alone. Once inside, she walked to the window, watching James as he prepared to leave, then glanced at the kitchen knife on the nearby table. She seemd to make up her mind about something as she dialed James' number.

The phone was answered after a lengthy pause.

Holding the kitchen knife in her hand, Nichole spoke into the phone, "James, I really like you. I've liked you for a long time now. I've held on just for you. If you truly don't care about me, I'd rather die right now." "What are you going to do?" James quickly sensed something was wrong, his brow furrowed. "Even if you took your own life, it wouldn't make me love you. Don't do anything foolish."

"I really can't live without you. I'd do anything to have you!" Nichole said, and without waiting for a response, she hung up the phone.

She then walked to the bathroom, lit a vanilla-scented candle, and slowly stripped off all her clothes, filling the bathtub with hot water. Nichole made a shallow cut on her wrist, just enough to draw blood.

Soon, footsteps echoed in the hallway. James had the keys to her apartment. He quickly unlocked the door.

"Nichole?" James called out, searching for her in the apartment. He noticed that the bathroom light was on.

He pushed open the bathroom door and was met with steam and a faint, sweet scent. It was oddly familiar, as if he had smelled it before.

Nichole didn't give James any time to think and threw herself into his arms, her delicate skin warm to the touch. James shuddered, about to push her away.

Nichole wrapped her arms around his neck, her face pale but flushed with desire, her eyes filled with longing.

"James, I really can't live without you. Don't you like me at all?" Nichole's voice was husky, unlike her usual tone.

James felt an unusual stirring within him. She had barely touched him, and he was already struggling to suppress his desires.

"James, look at me. You used to care about me so much."

Nichole tiptoed and planted a kiss on James' lips, then teasingly flicked her tongue.

James felt like he was losing his senses, his mind blanking as the image of Nichole in front of him blurred into Sophie. Acting on impulse, he pressed his hand against the back of her neck and kissed her fiercely.

Their breathing became ragged as James pinned her against the bathroom door, kissing her aggressively, venting the rage hidden in his heart.

"James..."

Nichole's face was flushed as if it was bleeding. She had succeeded, finally.

"Sophie..."

James murmured, imagining the face in front of him as Sophie's.

Why did Sophie never notice him?

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