CEO Ex-Husband, Don't Bother Me

Chapter 211 - 168: Pain and Happiness (2)

"I know I’ve hurt you so much in the past. I wasn’t there for you when you were pregnant with Dylan, and my affair with Juliet Jennings was the reason you fell down the stairs and went into premature labor. Then with Joy, I wasn’t by your side either. I know I’ve wronged you and our two children. I’m trying my best to make up for these regrets, but you... you won’t give me a chance..."

His voice was choked with emotion by the end. Naomi Shaw couldn’t bear to hear another word. Covering her mouth, she bolted from his office.

When she entered his office again to deliver a document, he had gotten up from the sofa and was sitting behind his desk. He was still wearing the same disheveled clothes. She remembered his private lounge always had several sets of clean clothes, but he hadn’t changed. The sight was a constant reminder of last night’s scandal involving him and that young starlet.

Though she put on a cold and indifferent front, ’how could I truly be indifferent? This is the man I’ve loved deeply since I was eighteen!’

The feeling was especially sharp when he took the document from her, then passed her a slip of paper. Without looking up, he ordered, "Order a bouquet of flowers for me and send it to this address."

She took it. It was the address of the young starlet’s agency.

’Could there be anything more tragic than personally sending flowers to another woman on behalf of the man you love?’ But she could only accept the task. She walked out, head bowed, her heart utterly empty.

Behind her, Julian watched her retreat and snapped the pen in his hand. He once thought he could read her like an open book, but now, he didn’t understand her at all.

’He’d always thought she loved him deeply, but the way she was now filled him with panic. He was terrified of losing her.’

With trembling hands, Naomi Shaw ultimately did as he asked and ordered the flowers. Her heart, however, was in agony. After a short while, the internal line on her desk rang. His flat voice came over the line, "Come in here."

She assumed he had another task for her. Taking a deep breath, she entered his office, only to see him standing there in fresh clothes—a crisp white shirt and tailored trousers. He held two ties in his hand. When he saw her, he asked nonchalantly, "Which one should I wear?"

His tone was completely casual, just like it had been every morning back when they were happy together. He always liked for her to pick out his tie. Sometimes, she’d intentionally pick one that clashed, and he’d wear it anyway without a care. In the end, it was always she who relented, unable to stand the thought of him looking foolish, and she would pull him back right before he left to make him change it.

Now, he asked so calmly, but it felt like a knife twisting in her heart. She had to admire his fortitude; even now, he could still act as if the hurt she’d inflicted on him simply didn’t exist.

’Does he really love me that much? Enough to be so forgiving, to act as if nothing is wrong even after I’ve hurt him? I never knew. I really didn’t. Maybe because I was the one who fell in love first, I always assumed I loved him more than he loved me. Perhaps I should be grateful for all this suffering... it’s shown me that his love is no less than mine.’

But things being as they were, she couldn’t return his love. She could only manage a faint, distant smile. "I’m sorry, but that’s outside the scope of my duties as an assistant."

She turned to leave. For her, every extra second with him was agony.

His even-toned voice came from behind her. "Then how about as the woman I love? Just give me your opinion. You know the saying, ’a woman makes herself beautiful for the one she loves’? Well, it’s the same for men."

Simple words, yet a blatant confession of his love. Clutching her chest, she fled. The only thought that could form in her mind was, ’I’m sorry.’

All morning, Naomi Shaw’s heart felt like it was sizzling in a vat of hot oil. She’d been in this state of constant torment ever since she agreed to help the police. By lunchtime, she had absolutely no appetite.

As the workday was ending that afternoon, he came out of his office. She was busy, her head bowed over her work. He breezed past her desk and said casually, "Come with me to a meeting."

He didn’t even break his stride. She quickly called after him, "I wasn’t scheduled to attend this meeting, was I?"

’She knew he had a meeting that afternoon, but he was supposed to go alone; she wasn’t on the schedule. She’d actually been looking forward to him leaving so she could breathe for a while. But no, as if he feared they weren’t tormenting each other enough, he was now dragging her along.’

But he kept walking, ignoring her protest without a backward glance. After a moment of internal debate, she gathered her things and followed. When she got to the parking garage, he was leaning against the car, smoking. His face was as handsome as ever, his bearing as elegant, marred only by the deep sorrow that seemed to emanate from him.

The driver was already standing respectfully by the car, clearly waiting for her. She steeled herself and walked over. His eyes flickered to her as she approached. He then stubbed out his cigarette and ducked into the car. Silently, she followed him inside.

Two people, deeply in love, yet acting like complete strangers. No one could possibly understand the hopeless pain of it.

Her body was tense as she sat in the back seat. She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and thought he looked utterly drained of life, like someone recovering from a major illness. He was slumped listlessly against the seat, his head tilted, gazing blankly out the window. A sharp pain pierced her heart, and she quickly turned her own head away, forcing herself not to see any more of his sorrow.

The driver had music playing. At first, she was in no mood to listen, but the same song kept repeating on a loop, and the lyrics started to sink in. A woman with a slightly raspy voice sang over and over:

I gave up everything for you, just hoping you’d turn back around.

Let’s pretend we’re starting over, but your kiss still stings my wounds,

And I’m too weak to escape this grief.

I gave up everything for you, just wishing you would stay.

Love can’t be forced, I know it’s true, so let me bear the pain.

I’ll make a solemn vow, I’m willing to be a prisoner of your love.

Suddenly, she understood the emotions hidden within the song. The lyrics... ’They’re a reflection of what he’s feeling, aren’t they?’

A weight like a mountain pressed down on her chest. She was on the verge of breaking down. She couldn’t bear to be near him like this, to see him in a state that made her heart ache. If this kept up, she would either go insane or snap and expose the entire police plan.

Thankfully, they arrived at the meeting venue just then. She practically bolted from the car, tossing over her shoulder, "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom!"

Then she rushed into the venue’s restroom to compose herself.

Was that a bit depressing to read? Just consider it a taste of Writer Summers’s twisted humor to balance the mood.