Chapter 37

Jason hugged her, lowering his head to gently place his cheek against her neck. She wasn't kidding about the smell; beneath a sharp, garbage-like scent, her skin smelled like her. Lily had intentionally made things difficult for her that day, and he hated that she was upset and forced to work so hard. She leaned against him, tired and weak, and he hated that too.

"Sister," he said, "no matter what you smell like, you don't have to stay away from me."

"But…" Grace squirmed, embarrassed. Jay didn't know if it was her smell or his hug.

"Since we've promised to depend on each other, what is there to avoid? Does it mean that if I smell or sweat someday, you'll deliberately stay away from me?" he retorted.

Grace remained silent for a while, then took a deep breath. "All right," she said. "I understand. I won't do it again."

He nodded victoriously. "Come, it's cold." He took her hand and they returned to their cramped apartment.

"You go shower and change; I'll make dinner."

She tilted her head, wondering if he could cook. And she wasn't wrong; he had virtually no experience, but cooking was about measurements and timing. As an engineer, he understood numbers.

"Go," he insisted, gently pushing her forward.

Grace went into the bathroom and closed the door. He rolled up his sleeves and began to cook.

She stayed in the bathroom for close to an hour. Although he'd done a decent job with the meat and rice, the food had cooled by the time she came out and sat across from him. Grace didn't seem to notice and ate with relish.

"What happened today?" Jason asked.

Grace hesitated, chewing slowly before setting down her fork. "It's silly, really," she said. "Today's event has been blown out of proportion. But given the number of people, workers, and police involved, I'm surprised you haven't heard about it on social media already."

"I don't want to hear about it online; I want to hear it from you."

"Okay," Grace said, and recounted the whole story.

Jason listened in silence. Once she finished, he asked, "Aren't you angry?"

She chuckled. "There's nothing to be angry about."

"She hadn't really lost a ring; she was just making trouble, wasn't she? Why aren't you angry?"

"Because there's no point in getting angry," she replied. "Do you know Jason Reed?" she asked suddenly.

His expression was stunned; his eyes flashed as he studied her. He shifted, his hair falling over his face. "He's pretty much the most powerful person in this city," she said. "Of course, he's rich—a billionaire or something—and people curry favor with him, either for his money or influence."

"What about him?" Jason asked neutrally.

"When I was incarcerated, charged as the driver who caused his wife's death, many people ingratiated themselves to him by hurting me in prison. If I got angry over everything, besides angering myself to death, there would be no benefit."

She said this casually while scooping more rice into her bowl. It might have been dismissive, but his heart twinged. Even without explicit details, he could guess what she'd endured in prison. Just as she said, many people tried to curry favor with Jason Reed. Some even mentioned to him how they had "taught her a lesson." How had he responded? He probably dismissed them with a laugh. After all, it was a trivial issue for him.

And yet, he felt regret. If he'd known then what kind of woman she was, if he'd known he would cross paths with her and get along with her like this, would he have let anyone lay a finger on her in prison? No. Absolutely not. He might even have prevented her imprisonment altogether.

"Are you okay?" He seemed entranced. She raised a hand, waving it before his eyes.

He abruptly grabbed her hand, feeling the rough calluses on her palm. "Did you suffer in prison, Grace?"

She swallowed hard, looking away. She shuddered, her hand trembling in his as she recalled the horrors. When she turned back to him, her expression was clear. She smiled faintly. "It's all in the past."

And yet, the more indifferent she acted, the more his heart ached.