by Lannah Smith
Leon singing. Now that was a sight he wanted to see.
Then he said, “About the wedding…”
“Her Dad wants it sooner,” Rohan answered. “Mom’s not exactly ecstatic about Emilia being pregnant and all because it would mean altering her wedding dress and rushing perfection, her words not mine, but Emmy doesn’t care. She’s all for pushing the date sooner anyway.”
“And when exactly is sooner?”
Another pause before, “Two months from now.”
Hell.
Christopher sighed.
He was going to have to push some schedules aside if this was going to happen sooner because he won’t miss this for the world.
“So it’s not going to be a June wedding?”
“Her Dad wanted the wedding to happen next month. Frankly, she does too, but I’m not having it. Neither does Abigail. We both want this to be perfect for her. So we negotiated to set it this February instead.”
“You know she’d be fine even if you just went to Vegas and got hitched there instead,” he pointed out.
Rohan let out a frustrated sigh. “I know. But someday, she’s going to thank me for this. She thought she didn’t have a future and that included marriage, Skull. Now she’s having both and I want to create wonderful memories that she can cherish and look back once we grow older together. So I’m not rushing this.”
Christopher understood that. He’d want to do the same for April too.
“You know I’m pissed that you didn’t tell me April’s been with you all along,” Rohan grumbled, like he’d guessed where his thoughts had led to, “I had to hear it from Leon.”
Leon had told them everything.
Christopher’s mood became grim.
“I was protecting all of you. Now even more so hearing your fiancé’s pregnant with your first-born.”
Pause then, “I haven’t told Em about her, Skull.”
Christopher’s gut tightened as he kept his eyes on April. “Thank you.”
“But she’ll be happy if I do. She misses April so much she cried when she was found and cried a fuck of a lot more when she thought you lost her. When she thought she lost her again too. And you know she’s not a crier.”
“She will be my wedding gift to her.”
“Seriously?” Rohan asked incredulously.
“That is if you want her to be at the wedding.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course, I want that. I may not like her but Emilia does and it would mean the world to her if she sees her again. She might even kick Abigail from her role as maid-of-honor for her.”
April was now holding the largest present among the pile. She was trying to shake it when Alec passed. The man beside Christopher snorted when April pretended that she was dusting it. Christopher chuckled too.
“And no.”
“No, what?” he mumbled distractedly to the phone.
“She’s not a wedding gift. Spend some money on us, you scrooge.”
Christopher burst out laughing.
“And it better be money from your legitimate businesses,” Rohan ended with a warning.
“I understand,” he was still laughing. “I’ll see to it, Rohan.”
A snort came from his left again. Alec was gesturing for April to step back from the tree and April was scowling, looking fucking adorable.
“I hope you manage to convince April that you’re the one for him,” Rohan told him earnestly. “Then get her to marry you before John can convince Terry so we could piss him off.”
He stared at April on the monitor, thinking how much he liked that. But it might not be possible anymore. Time had run out for the both of them.
“Come home when you can, Skull.”
“I will, Rohan.” He exhaled slowly. “You know I will.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, Christopher disconnected the call.
“Having fun, Chet?” he asked the man beside him.
Chet removed his headphones and grinned knowingly. “Would you like me to keep the video, sir?”
Christopher’s eyes slid to him. Then he too grinned.
“You know it.”
Christopher was avoiding me.
It was something I didn't realize right away. It was a gradual realization. Like a veil slowly being lifted from my head.
I should probably be thankful that I had a few days without him bugging me, without him riling me and without him being sweet on me.
But I wasn't.
There was an ache in my chest and stomach that was driving me mad. I missed him like he was still gone. And it hurt physically, like a needle inside my heart but the pain was more than I could ever handle.
I sighed, staring at the book in my hands, letting the last few days sift through my head.
I first noticed Christopher’s strange behavior the day Alec told me to decorate the house for Christmas. We had lunch together and I helped clear out the counter of the plates when our hands accidentally grazed each other.
His hand jerked away, like he'd been burned by my touch.
And without glancing my way, he moved from me to refill his glass with water.
Though it stung, I didn't think much of this. He had just woken up and wasn't himself. After drinking his water, he holed himself in his study and I worried after him. The fact that he was grouchy after sleep was new to me.
I didn’t realize yet that it was just his first offense against me.
The next day, there were presents underneath the tree when I came down in the morning. Christopher was standing in front of the tree, holding a cup of coffee, staring at them.
“Good morning,” he said without turning around.
I stared at his back for a few seconds.
What would he do if I try and touch him? I wondered.
I tested this then. Lifting a hand, I tried to put it on his shoulder but suddenly, every muscle in his body tensed and he whirled around, taking a step backwards from me. My heart plummeted.
That was offense number two.
“What are you doing?” he asked incredulously.
I blinked, dropping my hand. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting strange again.”
“Strange?” His brows drew together.
“Nothing,” I sighed. I should be feeling happy that he was acting distant like this. Except I didn’t expect the extreme disappointment that I was feeling right now.
He hadn’t taken a shower yet. The growth on his jaw was dark and he badly needed a shave. His clothes were all wrinkled. Either he’d been sleeping or working, I wasn’t sure, but I was leaning on the first. I had realized belatedly how much of a workaholic this man actually was when during our school days, he’d rarely crack a book open or actually hold a pen.
“What’s funny?” He was watching me closely with the same incredulous expression on his face. “Why do you look like you want to laugh?”
I buried that thought and exhaled low, “Nothing.”
His eyes wandered around the room then. “You always have such eye for details, honey,” he said with admiration in his tone.
“Tell that to that Jaehyun,” I muttered through the hummingbird beating of my heart when he called me honey, “He thinks I’m silly.”
“I’ll punch him in the mouth when I see him.”
I looked at him sharply. He grinned and I had to force my heart back down from my throat to my chest where it belonged.
"Alec told me about you trying to escape yesterday."
"Alec needs to keep his mouth shut," I grumbled.
“Did you or did you not try to escape yesterday?”
“I may have…” I said hesitantly. Then I got distracted by his shirt that was in desperate need of being ironed and I latched on to this topic, "I've always wondered this but who's doing the laundry?"
He looked at me like the answer was pretty much obvious. Dread filled me.
"If you say it's one of your men, I swear to God..."
Again, he grinned. But infuriatingly, he decided not to enlighten me. I put my hands on my hips.
"Where's the laundry room?" I snapped. "I'm doing my laundry from now on."
"Alec will take you... Alec!" he shouted.
Alec came out of the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee. “What?”
“Take April to the utility room.”
A muscle on Alec’s jaw jumped. "Jesus Christ, it's literally down the hall."
"Take her," he ordered in a severe tone. "She might decide to take a spin inside the dryer."
Then, like he couldn’t wait to get away from me, he sauntered into his study and committed the third offense.
I swallowed my hurt and frustration.
Then I asked Alec, “What the hell is going on with him?”
Alec was scowling. “fuck if I know.”
Alec, I noticed, would scowl every time he was ordered to stay in the same room as I was or keep an eye on me. It was like Christopher was purposely forcing the two of us alone and frankly, I’d rather prefer to be alone with Jaehyun because he wasn’t all frowns like Alec.
“You want to go to the utility room now?” Alec asked me.
I didn’t.
But I nodded anyway because I needed a distraction.
Christopher demonstrated that he was not quite finished racking up his offenses when later, he didn’t have lunch with me and declared that I should eat with Alec again. After lunch, I went up to my bedroom and cracked a book open, hoping to distract myself again from this misery.
Now was now.
I stared at the book, hurt and angry, both in equal measure. Hurt by Christopher. Angry at myself. He had started to show me something beautiful but for some reason, some messed up reason, he stopped doing it. And I wanted it. Which made me angry at my stupid self.
Had he tired of me?
Was he going to give up on me now?
Relief. Mingled with sorrow. Too much sorrow. Because this couldn't come at the wrong time when I had just admitted my feelings to myself.
Was he changing tactics?
Was this his new game? His new ploy to get me to admit my feelings to him?
And should I even play his game?
My mood darkened.
No. It was risky. Too risky to even play cat and mouse with him.
The outcome was pretty unclear. I couldn't read his mind. Couldn't predict his movements. I was still going to be on the losing side. I didn't want to think about that. I knew I'd have to leave him. He knew that despite his love and care, it wasn't going to be enough to hold me. We didn't have a future. But we had the present. And he was trying hard to demand it.
Now he wasn't.
In the end, despite his offenses, Christopher had gotten to me in the worst fucking way.
Knifing up my seat, deciding that maybe some hot chocolate would considerably improve my mood, I walked out of my bedroom. Christopher was doing the same and I paused in the hall to stare at him. He was holding a file in his hand. He paused when he spotted me and stared at me. I didn’t miss the momentary downturn of his lips before his expression smoothed over.
“We need to talk,” I told him.
He shook his head. "I'm working, honey."
My eyelid twitched.
Four days with minimal conversation, I try to initiate a conversation and he just says, "I'm working, honey"?
I sucked in a calming breath so I didn't unleash my temper.
"We seriously need to talk."
"Like I said, I'm working—."
“I thought you liked me?”
His jaw went tight. The muscle flexing in his jaw was a sign that he was on edge too and that made me feel better. It was freaking great to know that I wasn't in an emotional turmoil on my own. He walked towards me in slow, measured steps. When he was a foot away, he stopped.
“Love you, April. Not like you. But honey, I’m busy right now. I can’t get distracted.”
I stared at him speechless. Then I balled up my hands.
“Of course, you do,” I muttered bitterly.
He loved me. But right now, I was a distraction to him.
Done with this shit, I turned to get away from him. But then my shoe caught on the carpet and I nearly fell if he hadn’t caught me with his arm, drawing me up to his body. I gasped when I felt the heat of him all over my back.
"shit, I'm sorry."
His arm jerked away from me and I twisted my head around to blink up at him in confusion.
"You're... sorry?"
I watched as he completely shut down on me.
"I’m sorry, honey," he told me. "I'm not going to touch you again. Don't worry."
My brows drew together when he stepped around me, giving me as much room as possible. Then without another word or glance, he walked away.
I stood there, watching him disappear down the hall, wondering what just happened.
Because it really wasn't what I thought it was.
Right?
Chapter 50
I rapped on Christopher’s bedroom door angrily. Unlike him, I wasn’t rude to just barge in without a warning. When there was no answer, I turned the knob with an angry exhale. I knew he was inside. I just saw him enter.
After much deliberation, I decided to talk to him. To ask him what the heck was going on with him. Because if he was going to treat me this way, might as well send me back home, right? It was time to reason with him again. My escape plans would never work anyway. Maybe I could find a way for him to call off our bet. It could happen.
Maybe he had finally decided I wasn’t just worth the risk. After all, he was cold as ice to me now.
So it definitely could.
And if this was his ploy all along, if I find out that this was just a fucking ploy, I was going to kill him.
I pushed the door open. At the same time, the bathroom door opened, releasing steam and I gaped as Christopher stepped out, freshly showered and scented.
For a moment, we stared at each other in equal shock. I had planned to catch him off-guard. I hadn’t planned on being caught off-guard so I didn’t how to proceed.
Finally, I regained my senses and asked, “Are you avoiding me?"
I didn’t exactly regain all of it because I shrieked the question.
His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Don't you pretend to be innocent, you bastard." I slammed the door behind me, quelling him with a withering look. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m only wearing a towel, if you haven’t noticed, April.”
“I don’t care.”
Christopher shifted the towel at his waist. “Are you seriously going to quarrel with me in this state of undress?”
Immediately, I turned my back, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me whole. “If you drop that towel, I will kill you.”
“I’m pretty vulnerable right now,” he spoke, a smile in his voice. “If you attack me, I might not be able to stop you.”
I almost snorted. Vulnerable wasn’t something I would describe this big jerk.
“Or was it your plan to watch me get dressed? I don’t mind.”
“That is not why I’m here.”
“But it’s alright with me if you want to watch.” Now he was laughing as he spoke. “You’re welcome to stay.”
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Normally, I wouldn’t blush at something like this but the image of him with his hair still wet from the shower, fat droplets of water trickling down the muscles of his chest and arm and covered only at the waist with a towel was driving me to distraction. He was already impressive when dressed but he was a whole new level when half-naked.
I inwardly groaned.
Then, taking a deep breath, I told myself not to be swayed by his beautiful, chiseled body. He was moving, opening his closet, then I heard the rustle of fabric. I peered at his side-profile over my shoulder. The towel was gone and he was wearing a pair of sweatpants. The muscles on his shoulders and arms flexed as he bent
to find a shirt in his closet.
He caught me looking and he grinned.
