Chapter 1005: Salem's Recitation

Besse entered the room, noting its immaculate condition, mirroring the master bedroom. She wondered if Oscar had brought Salem to live here. She sat on the expensively carpeted floor, examining the carefully prepared educational toys. Picking up a Lego brick, she played with it for a while, momentarily amused by her own boredom. Yet, the thought of Salem having played with these same toys strangely forged a connection, prompting her to replicate his actions.

Besse constructed a random figure on the Lego wall, then read it aloud: "Salem." A smile touched her lips. The boy was, undeniably, a favorite. As she rose to leave, she spotted something written on the wall, concealed by a movable table. Moving the table revealed the words: "When can Mom come home?"

A sharp pain pierced Besse's heart. The child's loneliness resonated deeply. Was Salem missing his mother? Though seemingly perceptive, he remained a child yearning for love and protection.

After a silent moment, she picked up a nearby pen and wrote beneath the words: "Mom never left home. Mom is always in your heart, and you are in Mom's heart." Hannah wouldn't blame her for this, Besse mused.

As she replaced the pen, the door opened, startling her. She turned to see Oscar, his expression mirroring her surprise. After a brief silence, he mumbled, "Sorry to bother you," then quickly retreated, leaving Besse a whirlwind of emotions. She hastily opened the door to follow.

"Oscar!"

He paused in the corridor, turning as Besse approached. "I thought you were napping," he explained. Was he avoiding her?

"I need to collect a few things," Oscar added, his tone suggesting a fear of her rejection, a need to justify his presence.

Besse bit her lip. Was she that intimidating? His evident apprehension surprised her. She hadn't been gentle, but surely that didn't warrant his flight? Perhaps the car ride earlier had been too much. She'd been impatient, undeniably harsh.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I said hurtful things today; I was too impatient."

His surprise at her apology was palpable. He simply stared, his emotions carefully masked.

"I know," he replied, acknowledging both her anger and her resistance.

"Susan said our lawsuit goes to court in a week," Besse offered, attempting to alleviate the awkward tension. The apology, however, hadn't eased the solemnity between them.

"Hmm," Oscar nodded.

"Thank you," Besse reiterated. He simply nodded again, appearing indifferent.

"Are you here for something?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, another nod.

"Then get it; I'll rest in my room," Besse suggested. The unease between them lingered.

"Okay," he agreed.

Besse offered a polite smile, passing him. As she walked away, he called, "Besse."

She turned back.

"Salem has a recitation tomorrow at school. Would you like to come?" he asked casually, perhaps expecting refusal. He couldn't contain himself any longer.

Besse hesitated. "No," she finally said.

The disappointment in his eyes weighed on her.

"Okay," he nodded.

As he turned to leave, she added, "Going to the school now might cause a commotion. It wouldn't be good for Salem."

"If you're worried about your identity, I can arrange something," he offered, carefully controlling his evident excitement. "It's not suitable for me to appear at school either. I'll make preparations; no one will see me. You can rest assured."

Besse felt embarrassed. She hadn't intended to burden him, yet he'd volunteered so much.

"If you want to go, I can guarantee your safety," he repeated.

She found it difficult to refuse, but fought her softening heart.

"Okay," she agreed.

"I'll send a car tomorrow," he said eagerly.

"Will Susan come?"

"Yes," he replied instantly, fearing her refusal if Susan weren't included.

A small smile played on Besse's lips. His panic revealed a surprising childishness. Who would have imagined the composed, powerful man on screen exhibiting such vulnerability?

"Okay, I'll wait," she said.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured, a slight smile gracing his lips, quickly concealed.

Besse departed, the smile lingering even as she lay on her bed, a faint trace remaining. She wasn't sure what amused her—perhaps Oscar's flustered state. Or maybe, inexplicably, her heart felt strangely warm.

Besse pursed her lips, slowly calming herself. This man, Oscar, was dangerous, she realized. Any other woman spending these past few days with him would likely be smitten.