Chapter 2

"Sure," Chris said with a gentle smile. "I just think you don't need to waste your energy on people who don't matter."

People who didn't matter, huh?

I held my glass, my fingers slowly tracing the rim.

If Vivian really didn't matter, he wouldn't have said it like that.

The more he tried to brush it off, the more obvious it was that the name was a sore spot for him right now.

I set my glass down, my smile staying the same. "Alright, let's drop it."

Chris looked at me, a hint of concern in his eyes, like he was searching for any cracks but couldn't find one. After a couple of seconds, he leaned in and kissed me.

I knew this kiss all too well.

Whenever I was upset, he'd always comfort me like this. His hand would wrap around my waist, firm but gentle, as if he was saying, "Quit worrying. I'm right here."

I didn't pull away, but I didn't lean in either.

After a few seconds, he stopped, his forehead pressed gently against mine, and asked softly, "Want me to go with you to the exhibition tomorrow?"

"Are you free?" I asked.

"I'll make time."

As he finished speaking, his phone on the coffee table lit up.

Chris glanced over, barely a second, then locked the screen and put the phone away.

I stayed in his arms, not moving, just chuckling softly. "Who is it? So secretive, huh?"

He looked down at me and gave my cheek a gentle pinch. "Just a work message."

"Oh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I said, pushing him away and walking toward the dining table. "Just realized Mr. Ford's been pretty busy these days."

The meal was peaceful.

The servants didn't notice anything unusual.

Chris helped me with some dishes, asked where I wanted to go this weekend, and he still remembered that I'd casually mentioned the new greenhouse at the botanical garden a few days ago.

Back then, little gestures like that always softened me up.

But tonight, for some reason, all I felt was quiet.

Halfway through dinner, the rain outside eased up a bit. The driver texted to ask what time we were leaving tomorrow morning.

I was typing a reply when Chris suddenly spoke up. "Want to grab something sweet on the way tomorrow?"

I glanced up at him.

It wasn't the first time he'd asked that today.

Earlier this afternoon, when we drove past that dessert shop, he'd already asked me the same thing. Same question, twice in one day.

I hadn't thought much of it at the time.

But thinking back now, a heaviness settled in my chest.

He never had a sweet tooth.

And he was never the kind to repeat himself for no reason.

I smiled and set my phone down on the table. "What's with the sudden craving for something sweet today?"

"Nothing," he replied with a small smile, taking a sip of water. "Just happened to be on the way."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

I looked at him, then suddenly got up, walked around the table to his side, and leaned in to fix his collar.

Chris looked up at me, clearly caught off guard for a moment.

I smoothed the edge of his shirt collar with my fingertips, flashing him a bright smile. "Then don't bother buying it. It's a waste to buy cakes for the wrong person."

Without another glance, I turned and headed upstairs.

For two seconds, everything behind me was quiet, then came the soft sound of a chair sliding across the floor.

That night, I didn't go through Chris's phone.

I lay in bed, waiting until his breathing beside me grew steady, then quietly reached for my phone and messaged Hannah. [Can you check one more thing for me? Has he been dropping Vivian off at home a lot lately?]

After sending the message, I locked my phone and set it back on the nightstand.

Moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, spilling across the foot of the bed. Chris was sound asleep, his hand still resting on my waist.

The night was like every other ordinary night we'd spent together over the years.

But I stared at the ceiling for a long time, and suddenly, a tiny detail popped into my mind.

When I fixed his collar earlier, he'd instinctively leaned back a little.

It wasn't that he was avoiding me.

It was like he was afraid I'd catch a whiff of something.

*****

The next afternoon, Hannah sent me two photos.

One was taken in an underground parking garage.

Chris was standing by his car, frowning, as if he were reprimanding someone. Vivian stood in front of him, head down, holding some files in her arms, her expression uneasy.

In the other photo, Chris had already opened the rear door and tossed his jacket inside.

Then came a voice message.

Hannah kept her voice low, almost whispering. "I asked around. Everyone at the office says Chris is pretty strict with Vivian, but outside of work, he really looks out for her.

"A couple days ago, she had a fever, and he was the one who took her home himself."

I stared at the photo, saying nothing.

Hannah paused for a couple seconds, then went on, "Oh, and there's something else. Someone from the Lencity project team said Vivian's been getting a bit too involved lately.

"She's supposed to be just the assistant, but sometimes she'll speak for Chris before he even has a chance.

"At first, it looked like she was helping out, but now, whenever something important comes up, people will look at her first to see how she reacts, then check Chris's attitude."

I replayed the voice message.

I thought of the streetlight at the end of the alley, and Vivian answered for Chris before he could even speak.

Suddenly, I remembered how he'd asked about cake twice, and that dessert shop we passed by outside the car window.

My heart, which had only fluttered before, now felt like it was sinking, weighed down by it all.

I leaned back in my chair and texted Hannah, [Keep digging.]

After a pause, I typed another line, [I'm past caring about whether they're close or not.]

Hannah replied instantly, [Then what do you want to know?]

I stared out the window as the sky grew darker, my fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before I finally typed out my reply. [I want to know what exactly he's given her.]