Chapter 4
My brain short-circuited for a solid three seconds.
Did he mean... did he think he hurt me?
Wait—was he talking about... that "obligation" we'd just shared?
[Did he really just say that? That spicy, clueless line? I'm screaming!]
[He's spiraling into yandere mode—first step: "Did I do something wrong?" Classic.]
[Nora, fix this! Tell him it's not true, go hug him—STAT!]
[Mr. Hawkins is so adorably oblivious, I can't handle it! He actually thinks she wants a divorce because he's bad in bed... LMAO, this is gold!]
The chat's snarky comments jolted me out of my daze, and my cheeks flushed bright, burning red.
"No!" I practically yelled, my voice cracking. "It's got nothing to do with you—nothing at all!"
The second the words left my mouth, regret washed over me like a wave.
Henry froze, his hand dropping from my face as if I'd burned him. The tiny spark of hope that had flickered in his eyes vanished entirely, leaving them dull, empty, and broken.
He stepped back, putting distance between us—distance that felt like a chasm. The air around him turned frigid, cold enough to suffocate, the tension in the room dropping to subzero.
"I see," he said quietly, his tone flat and emotionless, as if he'd shut down entirely. "The papers are with you. Sign them and give them to me whenever you're ready."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his back rigid and unyielding—cold as a statue carved from stone, like he had no heart to break at all.
I watched his dejected figure vanish through the door, a sharp, piercing ache squeezing my heart tight.
Was I being too harsh?
[Oh no, Mr. Hawkins' heart is shattered into a million pieces—like a phone screen dropped on concrete. There's no coming back from that.]
[Nora, you absolute idiot! You just pushed the man who's head over heels for you away!]
[Hurting the person you care about stings for two seconds, then you're stuck in hell trying to win them back. Girl, I'm here for your chaotic redemption arc!]
For the next few days, Henry and I were locked in a silent standoff—two people living under the same roof, acting like total strangers.
We passed each other in the hallways, in the kitchen, but never spoke, never even made eye contact.
He grew even busier than before, leaving the house before the sunrise and returning long after midnight. Sometimes, he was just a ghost—gone all day, nowhere to be found in the penthouse.
Even when we crossed paths in the dining room, he'd glance at me for a split second, his face completely blank, then look away like I was just a piece of furniture.
The tension in the house was so thick, you could cut it with a butter knife—so palpable, even the cleaning lady noticed.
One afternoon, she tiptoed over to me, her voice soft and cautious. "Ma'am, did you and Mr. Hawkins have a falling-out? He's been... different lately."
I forced a weak smile, shaking my head. "No, we're fine. Just swamped with work, that's all."
[Fine? Girl, the tension's so thick, I could spread it on toast!]
[Is Mr. Hawkins really pulling the cold shoulder to make her cave? That's such a petty move... but it's working, isn't it?]
[You don't get it! He's not punishing her—he's punishing himself! He thinks he's not good enough for her, so he's scared to get close, afraid he'll push her away even more!]
[Look! Mr. Hawkins is sneaking glances at her again! He thinks nobody's watching, but we see you, sir!]
Following the chat's hint, I glanced up casually—and sure enough, Henry stood at the corner of the second-floor landing, his gaze fixed on me with that deep, intense gaze I'd grown so used to.
The second he realized I'd spotted him, he snapped his head away like a startled rabbit, his ears flushing pink, and darted into the study, the door clicking shut behind him.
I stared at the closed door, completely lost for words.
What was wrong with him? I wondered. Why was he acting so... strange all of a sudden?
Even though the silent treatment was awkward, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the freedom—no more monthly "obligations" hanging over my head, no more cold, formal run-ins with Henry.
I threw myself into the final beta test for Blades of Destiny, pouring all my energy into polishing the game ahead of launch.
One night, I was on a voice call with my team, testing a new dungeon, when a private message popped up on my screen from a player named Ryan Pierce.
He was one of our earliest beta testers, a total legend who topped the leaderboards every week.
He wasn't just a top-tier player—he had a voice that could make anyone's knees go weak, seriously, the guy was low-key famous in our gaming circle for his "heartthrob voice."
Ryan: [Nora, you still up?]
I blinked in surprise, typing back quickly: [Yep, still grinding the new dungeon with the team.]
Ryan: [Is the new dungeon any good? Mind if I join you?]
Ryan: [Also, are you going to the offline player meetup this weekend?]
That was when it hit me—we'd organized a small offline gathering to promote the game, a chance for our top players to meet the dev team face-to-face.
As the game's lead designer, I was supposed to be there—no ifs, ands, or buts.
[Yeah, I'll be there. Gotta represent the dev team, right?]
Ryan: [Awesome! Can't wait to meet you in person—I've been wanting to for ages.]
Ryan: [sheepishly]
Seeing that shy emoji, I couldn't help but laugh—he was surprisingly endearing, for a total game legend.
He's actually pretty sweet, I thought, drafting a reply. But before I could hit send, a sudden chill ran down my spine, like someone was watching me.
I turned around—and there stood Henry right behind my chair, glaring darkly at my screen with a stormy look cold enough to freeze blood.
He wore a black bathrobe, his hair still damp, water droplets trickling down his neck, radiating sheer cold—and a jealousy so thick you could practically taste it.
[!!! CODE RED! CODE RED! The boss just caught her red-handed!]
[Mr. Hawkins' stare is deadly—he looks like he's about to murder someone (RIP Ryan).]
["I've been wanting to meet you for ages." — Ryan, 23, rest in peace. You will be missed.]
[Nora, close that chat NOW! Your new guy's about to get taken out by the jealous CEO!]
"What are you chatting about?" Henry's voice drifted down from above, cool and icy, edged with a sharp bite that made my skin crawl. "Looks like you're having quite a good time."
My heart jumped into my throat, and I instinctively reached for the mouse to close the chat window—but it was too late.
His eyes locked onto the name "Ryan" on the screen, and his pupils narrowed into dangerous slits, his jaw tightening.
"Ryan Pierce?" Henry drawled, the name rolling off his tongue like a threat, his tone laced with venom. "Is that the guy you're so eager to leave me for?"