Chapter 203

I looked at him with helplessness. What should I do to make him happy and let me go? I became increasingly unable to decipher his emotions. He slightly lowered his head, leaned closer, and said in a deep voice, “You are awake now. Tell me honestly, was it Winston who saved you?”

That night, did you tell him those emotional words and ask for his help? He was secretly competing with Winston again. This question was incredibly difficult to answer. If I nodded yes, he'd go crazy, maybe even kill me. But if I shook my head, it would mean admitting my feelings for him. Would he mock me then?

After all, I'd endured three unpleasant years with him. I still can't understand why he repeatedly tried to force me to admit my feelings. Did he want to confirm them and then use it as a weapon to hurt me?

Oh! After much thought, my mind was a jumble. I couldn't figure out his thoughts and didn't dare guess. But I definitely couldn't nod yes. Even if admitting my feelings meant being mocked, it was better than provoking him. Yes, I needed to pacify him; keeping him calm was crucial!

I licked my lips, about to say that no matter who saved me, I only wanted him, only wanted to be with him. But as he opened his mouth, the president's office door swung open. A gentle call, "Reynaldo…," abruptly stopped.

I glanced towards the door. It was Kimberly. She carried breakfast, standing dazed in the doorway, her affectionate eyes filled with tears. Reynaldo didn't look at her. He continued to stare intently at me, his hand on my shoulder, as if waiting for my answer.

Tsk! This man is so persistent, ignoring his unrequited love. I shouted, “Hey, she’s on the verge of tears! Why don’t you go comfort her!”

Reynaldo didn't move, but his face darkened. I said again, “Think it through. Don't make her sick. And don't blame me and go crazy in front of me.” His dark, intense eyes stared fixedly, searching my face. Oh, I knew it. He wanted to see jealousy.

Men, it seems, are all a bit vain. Even though he detested her, he insisted on her loving him unconditionally. But he didn't know how proud I was. No matter how much I liked him or how sad I was, I wouldn't show it.

Kimberly's teary eyes were still on me, making me uncomfortable. I moved to push him away, but unexpectedly, he stepped back. His strong hand swept, sending me rolling off the table. Luckily, I reacted quickly, landing on my hands.

A moment ago, Reynaldo was impatient and eager. Now, he was tidying his cuffs and tie, his expression pale and dignified. I looked at myself; several shirt buttons were undone, my collar askew, my jeans unbuttoned. It was a mess.

Kimberly stood innocently at the door, like a virtuous wife catching an affair. After Reynaldo finished tidying himself, he calmly sat back in his chair. Seeing his calmness, his lack of guilt, I calmly tidied my own clothes. He was never in a hurry; why should I be?