Chapter 9
Who would’ve thought it was already ten o’clock in the blink of an eye, and Miles had left for work?
Given the shadows of past lives, I was particularly keen on his safety. After a quick breakfast, I grabbed the oatmeal that Lara had made and rushed to his office.
The secretary saw me and stood up nervously. “Mr. Crawford is in a meeting and not available for visitors.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait,” I replied, settling onto the lobby’s couch and scrolling through my phone.
Gradually, I could hear Rowan talking to someone inside his office, his tone sharper and colder than I’d ever
heard.
“I gave you a chance. You’re the one who didn’t seize it.”
“Mr. Crawford, you set me up to fail-”
Rowan chuckled softly, “And what of it?”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
“I’m a businessman. Profit is my language. Reason has no place here.”
I leaned in, listening intently, while the secretary looked on the verge of a meltdown. Suddenly, the door burst open, and an angry middle–aged man stormed out. As he passed, our eyes met for a fleeting second, and I froze
It was Lionel, the very man who had stabbed me in a past life. Could it be that Rowan was already taking action? Ten years ahead of schedule–truly, a man of action.
Flustered, the secretary announced loudly, “Mr. Crawford, your wife is here.”
Snapping back to the present, I picked up the food container and walked in.
inside, there was no sign of the ruthless corporate overlord. Rowan sat by the window in a pristine white shirt, greeting me with a gentle smile. “I’ll be home for lunch.”
I plunked the lunchbox on his desk and sat across from him. “That guy just now…”
“Did I scare you?” Rowan asked lightly, smiling. “Sorry, I’ll watch my tone next time.”
“No, it’s not that…” I scratched my head. “That man, he’s the one who attacked me.”
A layer of ice settled in Rowan’s eyes, and with a simple “Leave it to me,” he began eating. The timing was perfect. The oatmeal was still warm. He had such grace, even in the simple act of eating.
Noticing my gaze, Rowan paused. “Want to join me?”
“No, thanks” I hesitated, leaning forward a bit. “Uh…”
Rowan sighed, setting down his fork. “Do you want a new handbag? Or some clothes? You can use the card I gave you, or I can take you shopping after work.”
Blushing. I bit my lip. “Could you… maybe talk to me like you did earlier?”
“What?
Covering my face, I almost crawled under the table. “Please, I like it.”
A brief flash of blankness crossed Rowan’s face.
I recalled a night when I blurted out, “Treat me like you’re my owner…”
I squirmed in my seat. Some things just slipped out without thinking. Rowan swallowed his food and suddenly laughed.
Chapter 9
I nudged him with my foot. “Don’t laugh at me. Forget I said anything…”
“Never,” he said, his gaze steady on mine. “I could never refuse you.”
That day, the people at the office saw me dash out, my face as red as a tomato. After years of twisted pasts and present entanglements, it was only recently that it felt like we were truly in love.
Rowan’s social media had become my playground. I posted my kitchen disasters and blurry couple photos with captions so cheesy that they could make you cringe.
Rowan gently reminded me, “I do have some friends, you know.”
He was implying, of course, that it was a bit embarrassing. But seeing how much fun I had, he let the teasing slide. Every post attracted the same comments.
[The eternal bachelor has fallen.]
[Showing off the wife again…]
[If you’re being held hostage, blink twice.]
Time flew by, and before I knew it, autumn was upon us.
Miles seemed to have vanished from my life, with his number disconnected and all contact severed. Occasionally, seeing high schoolers after class, I’d reminisce. But something told me things wouldn’t end simply like that.
Rowan was busier than ever, leaving early and coming home late. Sometimes, waiting at home, I couldn’t help but remember the past. He was always like this, with endless work and little time to talk.
“Mrs. Crawford, it’s ten o’clock. You should get some rest.”
1 sat cross–legged on the carpet, all my shopping spree goodies laid out around me. “I’ll wait a bit longer.”
It had been a week since I’d last seen him, and I felt like waiting tonight.
With the chill setting in, I had gone shopping for Rowan, getting him a set of winter clothes: a camel plaid scarf, a wool coat, and matching fluffy, childlike gloves.
While putting them in the closet, I heard a phone vibrating inside a jacket. Pulling it out, I saw it was an email.
I took a quick photo and messaged him, teasing, [Rowan, you have a phone I didn’t know about?]
He was used to my playful antics, replying, [It’s for work. I must have forgotten it. Can you open it for me?] Laughing, I opened the email, muttering, [Hope it’s not a love letter, or I’ll make a scene.]
The screen revealed a medical report. Squinting, I read, “Hooper Brennan, skull fracture and intracranial bleeding…Was this guy hit by something? Oh, there’s a death report. Work injury, poor soul.”
Rowan’s calm voice sounded, “Sweetheart, put the phone back. I’ll be home soon with some cupcakes for you.” “You just said I could look. Now, you’re being stingy…”
He chuckled, “Nothing worth seeing.”
The kitchen was still warm with his dinner. I tucked the phone back, pulling out wrapping paper to bundle the new clothes as a surprise gift.
My best friend, Viola Carlson, teased me over the phone, “You used to be so annoyed with him, Sonia. Did you get a new heart?”
“Rowan is the best. Maybe i was blind before?”
“Okay, okay. When will you start that studio with me? Your designs are in high demand, you know.”
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