Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 15

Chapter 15 By the time | realized what was happening, | hastily switched the camera.

Through the earpiece, Hilary’s voice had an unmistakable hint of disbelief, “Sorry about that, Xaviera. You see, | got carried away chatting your ear off. Let’s catch up some other time, shall we?”

Before | could even respond, Hilary had already hung up.

| awkwardly turned to Darren and said, “Sorry about that, Hogan’s mom might have...”

“Rough, huh?” Darren blurted out unexpectedly, with a touch of concern in his voice.

| looked up at him, unsure which kind of ‘rough‘ he was referring to.

Work, or dealing with my ex—boyfriend’s mother.

Seeing that | didn’t say anything. Darren handed me a blueberry, “For your eyes, they help with the fatigue. Have some more.” | felt a bit off inside but changed the subject, “It’s about time for lunch, let’s go.”

Darren tactfully dropped the topic.

At the restaurant, | looked at the mountain of plates in front of me and sheepishly said, “Darren, it's not often | treat someone, so please eat up.”

After speaking. | politely pushed the salmon his way.

Darren gave me a look and said, “Xaviera, you're too skinny. Health is the real wealth, especiallyContent from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

if you want to conquer the business world. You can’t afford to be under the weather.”

And he pushed the salmon back to me.

| couldn't argue with him and said, “Alright, let’s eat it together.”

The meal was actually quite enjoyable.

But when it came time to pay, the server politely informed me that Darren had already taken care of the bill. “How about you treat next time, is that okay?”

He was gentle and modest, and as he spoke, he refunded the transfer right in front of me.

| didn’t agree and suggested we go Dutch, to which Darren chuckled as if he had something on me, “I treat once, you treat once; that’s still going Dutch.”

| was momentarily at a loss for words!

By the time the outing wrapped up, it was already 9 PM, and Darren insisted on walking me down to my building. 11-38

Under the streetlight, his shadow stretched out long and thin, but he showed no sign of leaving.. After a moment, he adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses and said, “You see, aside from coding. there’s a lot of fun stuff to do, right?”

He was referring to the hoop-throwing game he'd taken me to after dinner.

| didn’t want to burst his bubble, so | went along, and it was clear he was having a blast.

| was not really used to this kind of attention, so | just said, “Thanks for today, be careful on the road.” Darren, always knowing when to advance and when to retreat, wished me goodnight and drove

off.

| quietly returned to my place and turned in early for a change, but as soon as | closed my eyes, sleep eluded me. Hilary’s words came to mind.

If | wasn’t wrong, tonight was the night Hogan would formally introduce Cecilia to the Zade family.

And me, who had been humble for six years, didn’t even know which way the Zade family’s front door swung. The contrast was stark.

Right, from two years ago, Hogan and | were on different paths.

The most pressing matter was something else entirely.

Aknock interrupted my thoughts.

“Who's there?” | was totally confused.

“It's me.”

The deep voice barely made it through the crack of the door before | stood there, stunned.

It was Hogan's voice, no mistake.

But wasn’t he supposed to be at the family dinner with Cecilia tonight?

Why would he show up at my place at this time?

Suspicious, | heard his voice again from outside, “Open up.”

He sounded pretty assertive.

But why should I?

Even though he was the investor, it didn’t make sense for him to be dropping by my house in the middle of the night, right? Chapter 15

| stood there expressionless, and the next second, | heard Hogan’s increasingly insistent knocking.

It was getting louder.

Not wanting to disturb the neighbors, | cracked the door and asked, “Mr. Zade, what's the matter?”

| looked up only to collide with his hazy, drunken eyes.

The heavy smell of alcohol barged into my nostrils, and before | could even close the door, Hogan pushed through with force, slumping onto my shoulder.

“Babe, you've got a cold heart, how come you didn’t leave the door open for your hubby?”

When Hogan called me babe, his face was buried in my shoulder, and his tone was full of self-pity. Clearly, he’d had one too many.

Leave the door open?

Did he really think he still had a place in my life?