Chapter 5

He pulled me into the corridor and found some ice, carefully pressing it against my face.

I mumbled, looking down.

"I didn't push her..."

"Mmm."

He responded flatly, neither getting angry nor asking for clarification.

I knew him too well. This silence was the loudest form of denial.

If he believed me, he would have argued fiercely for me.

If he didn't, he would just stay silent like this.

But if he didn't believe me, why was he still being so gentle?

Tears spilled from my eyes, dropping one by one onto his hand.

He snatched his hand back as if burned, then stood up.

"If you're going to stay here and make Willow and the baby uncomfortable, then just go home."

I desperately grabbed his sleeve, a sob catching in my voice.

"Just trust me this one time, please?"

He sighed deeply, prying my fingers off his sleeve one by one, as if completely disillusioned.

"Scarlett, I can overlook all the things you've done, because I love you, after all. But at least, you should be honest with me."

A familiar phone ringtone suddenly sounded – Willow's exclusive ringtone.

"How much further to enter your heart, how much longer until I can get close to you..."

I once asked him,

"Is it appropriate to have a special ringtone for a female colleague?"

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"The girl just likes that song. It was nothing, just a casual thing. Don't overthink it."

I watched him answer the call, then walk away without looking back.

I sat numbly on the bench, half my face swollen and red.

I suddenly started to laugh and cry at the same time, like a patient given a terminal diagnosis.

He told *me* to be honest, but had he been honest himself?

I went back for my luggage, intending to go to my parents' house, but their video call came through.

Dad clutched his chest, his finger shaking as he pointed at me and cursed.

"The Thornes said you ran to the hospital, throwing a fit and hurting the poor girl who just gave birth. What were you thinking? The Chief of Staff is a friend of mine, he called to ask us what was going on! You've completely humiliated our family!"

Dad started to gasp violently again. Mom quickly gave him his medication, then turned to glare at me.

"Damien explained everything clearly; he and that girl are just colleagues. Why do you have to be so extra, trying to push them together?"

Catching sight of the injury on my face, she sneered,

"Serves you right!"

"What exactly did I do wrong that you're all blaming me?"

I took a deep breath, my voice hoarse.

"Why do you all believe outsiders over me?"

"Believe you about what? Tell us!"

My parents spoke simultaneously.

Looking at their unmoved faces, I suddenly deflated.

"Never mind."

I hastily hung up the video call.

I couldn't let them see my tears again, or it would only lead to that familiar line:

"What else can you do besides cry?"

At that moment, I didn't know where I could go.

My phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message from Asher Maxwell:

"Scarlett Hayes, when will you choose me?"

"Now."

Without a second thought, I immediately replied.

This guy, who had once been an academic disaster, barely scraping by in high school, had transformed himself in his senior year, pushing himself to get into the same university as me.

After that came years of relentless pursuit. A hundred confessions, a hundred rejections from me.

Who would like an academic disaster, even worse than a slacker?

Even if he was sunny and handsome, with a smile that made your heart skip a beat, it was a no-go.

After college graduation, Damien and I got together.

Asher went to Switzerland to study, but his messages never stopped.

From daily warm greetings, to sharing trivial life details, to the recurring question every few days:

"When will you choose me?"

I had never replied, but he was like a tireless robot, never giving up.