Chapter 4
"My desk isn't cheap. I won't smash it," I said.
"Well, that's a relief," Hannah replied.
She took a deep breath and clicked to open another page.
This time, it was a photo of a hand.
The hand was delicate, with the palm spread open.
In the center of the palm lay a man's ring.
It was silver, old, and plain. It was so old-fashioned that nobody would wear it these days.
The caption read, [Close.]
I couldn't take my eyes off the ring for a long time.
The office was so quiet that the only sound was the low hum of the air conditioner.
Hannah sat across from me, staying completely silent.
After a long while, I finally reached out, turned off her phone, and gently set it back on the desk.
"You okay, Chris?" Hannah asked softly.
I stood up and walked over to the window.
The sky outside was gloomy, and my reflection stared back at me from the glass. My features hadn't changed, my makeup was still flawless, and my lips looked even brighter than they did this morning.
But as I stared at my reflection, I suddenly remembered an old velvet pouch.
Back when Chris was still struggling to make it, he quietly had a pair of silver rings custom-made for us.
They weren't expensive, and they weren't even official.
That night, he slipped the ring onto my finger, his ears burning red as he whispered to me, "This is a placeholder for now. When I make it big, I'll get you something better."
Later on, we got real wedding bands.
I tucked those old silver rings away at the very bottom of my jewelry box.
After that, I'd all but forgotten about them, until now.
I turned around and picked up my bag.
Hannah stood up as well.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Home," I replied.
"Now?"
"Yeah."
"You're not really going to dig through your jewelry box, are you?"
I shot Hannah a look and couldn't help but smile.
"Hannah," I said.
"Yeah?" she replied.
"I had a sudden realization."
"What?"
I slipped my phone back into my bag, fastening the clasp slowly and deliberately.
"I used to think Vivian was just too close to Chris." I looked up, a faint smile on my lips. "But now, maybe that's not it."
Hannah was barely breathing.
"Then what is it?" she asked.
I picked up my bag and walked out, my heels clicking crisply against the floor.
When I reached the door, I turned back and threw her a casual remark. "She's already got what she came for."
"What do you mean?" Hannah asked.
I didn't explain any further.
At that moment, I couldn't even put it into words myself.
But the blurry shape in my mind was starting to come into focus.
Vivian was after more than Chris.
At first, she only dared to want a little bit of care, special treatment, and familiarity that no one else could see.
But once she got her hands on that, it was easy to keep seeing how far she could go.
Later, she started jumping into projects, joining conversations, testing the limits of what she could say in public, and trying to access authority and roles she was never supposed to have.
What she wanted was an opportunity born from their relationship.
And now, her hand was already on the doorknob.
When I got home that evening, Chris was already there.
He was sitting on the living room sofa, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a few documents spread out in front of him. When he looked up and saw me walk in, his expression visibly relaxed.
"You're home early today," Chris said.
"I missed you. What, is that wrong?" I replied.
I handed my bag to the maid, kicked off my heels, and padded barefoot across the carpet toward him.
Chris watched me, a subtle glimmer flickering in his eyes.
"Good mood today?" he asked.
"Not bad," I replied.
I sat down beside him, casually flipping through his papers, and asked, like I always do. "Are you going to Lencity again tomorrow?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"Is Vivian going with you?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away.
I looked up at him, smiling as I leaned in, resting my elbow on his shoulder. "What, I can't even ask?"
Chris looked down at me, his eyes deep, with that familiar hint of hesitation I knew all too well.
After a moment, he said, "She's my assistant. It's how things are."
"Oh." I nodded, as if it really was a casual question.
Then, without thinking, I picked up his phone from the coffee table, flipped it over, and gave it a gentle shake.
"So, next time Vivian's stomach is getting better, or the road's tough, or she can't help herself with the cake, make sure you remind her," I said.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Chris's gaze locked onto my face.
I smiled, set the phone back down, and gave his tie a playful tug. "What's up?"
Chris looked at me, his voice a bit lower. "Who told you all this?"
I didn't answer.
I released his tie, sitting up straight in a slow, deliberate motion.
I looked at him and gave a small, knowing smile. "See? I haven't even said anything yet, and the first thing you ask is who told me."
That night, Chris didn't ask again.
He leaned back on the sofa, keeping his eyes on me for a long time, like he was searching for something in my face.
I quietly flipped through the papers next to him, and when I found the page about Lencity, I gave it a gentle tap with my finger.
"Is Henry Campbell going to be at tomorrow's dinner?" I asked.
Chris nodded.
"That's good," I said, closing the file and handing it back to him. "I'll go too."
He paused for a moment before taking the file.
"You usually hate these business dinners, don't you?" Chris said.
"I'm in a good mood and want to get out for a bit," I said, looking up at him with a smile. "Not up for it?"
Chris looked at me.
He probably had a ton of things he wanted to ask, but in the end, he said, "Always."
I nodded and got up, heading upstairs.
When I got to the stairs, I turned back. "Oh, by the way..."
"Yeah?" Chris turned to look at me.
"No need to buy cake anymore," I said, leaning on the railing with a smile. "Some people like eating it, others like asking questions. The more you ask, the easier it is to slip up."
Chris sat there, not saying a word.
I said nothing further, then turned and headed upstairs.