Chapter 145

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It’s funny how girls tend to want to look their best for the boys they like. As I adjusted my hair and smoothed my clothes before leaving the bathroom, I realized something undeniable—I had developed feelings for Ashton.

When I stepped out, Ashton was already waiting. He immediately moved closer to help me, but I ducked away, feigning an indifferent attitude. “I’m fine,” I said lightly.

He didn’t push it and simply followed me to the dining table.

On the table were the steak and vegetables he’d promised to make, but he’d also prepared a plate of mashed potatoes and a platter of cut–up fruit. The food was beautifully presented, looking like something out of a gourmet restaurant.

“You know,” I said, offering him the highest compliment I could think of, “your sister must be really lucky to have you.”

Ashton didn’t respond, his face calm as always.

Then, I remembered–his sister had heart disease. The mention of her might have touched a nerve. Feeling a bit awkward, I changed the subject. “Where do you live? Or rather, where does your sister live?*

He looked at me, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer right away.

I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Why are you hiding it from me? Do you think I’d hurt her?”

“Palria,” he finally said. “It’s a small city south of Amaty.”

was precise,

to memory. Then, trying to keep the conversation casual, I added, “My boss felt bad for me and gave me two days off

Ashton replied, his tone nonchalant as if

was an incredibly even–tempered person. I had never seen him get flustered or overly emotional. His calm demeanor set him apart from most people I

upbringing–he seemed so different from everyone

of my time off reminded me of my mysterious boss, so I brought it up. “Why do you think

drifted to Logan’s business proposal and how

it.

been up to me, I would have accepted it. Logan’s company wasn’t bad, and partnering with him would have been a smart business move. Turning him down didn’t make any sense–unless

Ashton murmured, his usual

stop me from leaning closer. “Do you think

bites of mashed

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blinked, pretending not

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gaze to meet mine, his eyes calm yet piercing. “You have the

skipping a beat. Was that a

I asked, half–teasing but curious for his

jaw clenched slightly. “Partly,” he admitted, “but that’s

reasons could there be? We’re not that close,” I said, pressing him gently. I still remembered how he’d proposed

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