His and Her Entanglement

One

"You want to be a kept person, why not come to me?"

Hank leaned back on the sofa, and said with tilting his head back.

From this angle, I could only see his chiseled jaw and the open collar of his shirt.

His collarbones were strikingly beautiful.

I swallowed nervously, but before I could speak, a bank card was tossed onto my face.

"The password is my birthday," Hank said.

Trembling, I held the card in my hands and inquired, "So, when is your birthday?"

Hank was silent for a long time before he sighed,

"If you can't remember, you might as well starve!"

I quickly got up from the floor and flipped open my yearbook. Hank's information was carefully placed on the first page by me.

His handwriting was beautiful, though his graduation message wasn't very kind.

Hope Maddie can be a bit smarter after graduation. If not, at least get better looking.

His words were always so condescending as himself. I always thought Hank disliked me, but I never expected that when I hit rock bottom, he'd be the first to lend a hand.

Like a voyeur hiding in the shadows, finally unable to contain his excitement, launching an attack on his object of obsession.

Oh, let me correct that. If one was interested and the other wasn't, that was just creepy. But if both had a little crush going on, it was called chemistry.

Clearly, Hank was quite the reserved type.

This year was my unlucky year. People said you should wear red to ward off bad luck in an unlucky year, or you would face great misfortune.

I scoffed at this opinion.

Little did I know life would soon humble me.

Caught in a wave of company layoffs, I was forced to leave and decided to start my own business. I ambitiously opened a coffee shop, only to be swindled by franchisees, losing everything.

Roughly calculating, I lost about a hundred thousand. The coffee shop took all my savings, and with the losses, I might as well consider selling a kidney.

I subtly inquired my parents live in the county about this year's olive harvest, thinking of venturing into agriculture.

But I was told the prices were too favorable, and the buyers were squeezing them hard.

It seemed I couldn't rely on that.

My mom earnestly advised over the phone, "Maddie, you need to learn to save money out there, or life will be tough."

I could only awkwardly agree, and after hanging up, tears unwillingly streamed down my face.

Adult life was never easy.

After receiving the fourth debt collection call today, I finally broke down, crying as I opened my contacts.

I forgot to mention, before calling, I finished the last two bottles of beer in the fridge.

Dignity was truly laughable. In this desperate, alcohol-fueled state, I intended to call a former colleague who had shown interest in me for help, but somehow I dialed Hank instead.

"Maddie?"

I shouted, "Hey, guy, I don't want to try anymore!

Please support me!"

His voice on the other end was clearly suppressing anger, but his words were unexpected: "Alright, I'll be at your place soon."

Though Hank was sharp-tongued, proud, and reserved, he was indeed a man of action. In less than half an hour, he rang my doorbell.

I struggled to open the door, fearing my disheveled appearance would disgust this gentleman.

His brows furrowed as if he could crush a fly between them. "Maddie, have you truly fallen to this state?"

I burped, the beer filling me with gas.

Often, I wasn't vomit from the drunk but from the bloating.

Hank walked past me into the living room, plopping down on the sofa,

"If you're struggling, why didn't you contact me?"

"Would it have helped?"

Hank snorted, "At least, I could have helped with the layoff situation."

I was utterly shocked, then collapsed on the floor, laughing like a fool.

"Hank, you actually stalk my Facebook!"

His face turned red, and in embarrassment, he threw a pillow at me. "Shut up!"

The pillow knocked me to the ground, right next to his bank card.

Maybe I was too exhausted recently, and my tense nerves suddenly relaxed. I lazily lay there, unwilling to get up.

So tired.

Hank walked over and I turned my head to see his perfectly pressed pant legs and a pair of beautiful hands.

He crouched down, brushing aside the hair on my forehead.

It should have been a romantic moment. I almost thought he was going to lean down and kiss me.

But Hank didn't. Instead, he pressed my nose, making it a pig snout, and laughed at my silly expression.

"It has been three years, Maddie. Not even a holiday greeting from you."

I closed my eyes. "Yeah, three years.

I'm 25, almost 26, practically 27, and feeling almost 28. I'm still single!"

"Speak plainly!"

"I'm lonely. I want to date."

Hank pinched my cheek. "If you're going to be a kept person, you need to accept it. Don't think about anything else."

I mumbled, "Like what?"

His eyes darkened, and for some reason, I sensed a hint of amusement in them.

"Complete devotion."

Damn!

Two

In college, I met Hank thanks to my sociable roommate. Otherwise, I wouldn't have crossed paths with someone from such a prestigious family.

At that time, Hank had just broken up. His childhood sweetheart decided to study abroad, and Hank, for some reason, refused to leave this land. Eventually, they parted ways.

To cheer him up, his good friends booked a whole bar. My beautiful roommate, seeing a free opportunity, dragged our entire dorm along.

That was how I first met Hank.

I vaguely remembered the first thing I said to my roommate was, "I want to pursue him!"

My roommate sighed, "Sweetie, let's not dream, okay?

See everyone here? They're all after him, including me.

But that unattainable beauty can only be admired from afar."

With that, she dove into the dance floor, swaying her hips like a snake, mesmerizing me.

But Hank was even more captivating. Though we were far apart, I could still see his perfect face, standing out among the crowd under the flashing lights.

The girls sitting next to him seemed uncomfortable, making the atmosphere awkward.

According to Samuel, Hank's good friend, Hank was quite heartbroken during that time.

But from his expression, you couldn't tell. He sat there, face blank, drinking one glass after another, not speaking.

Occasionally, he'd glance around with a cold look, clearly annoyed.

I was captivated by his aloof demeanor, thinking how cool he was and how much I liked him.

I wanted to sweep him off his feet, hoping to have a family with him.

But Hank couldn't notice me. I could only watch him from afar.

Yet fate worked in mysterious ways.

I ended up as the king in a King's Game. I still remembered my heart pounding like thunder, making it hard to breathe.

I was so nervous my hands were sweaty, almost dropping my phone.

I said, "Hank, I want to add you on Whatsapp."

Maybe I was too loud, and Hank didn't react immediately.

With drunken eyes, he mumbled an agreement, instinctively pulling out his phone to add me.

That was when I realized he was drunk, though it didn't show on his face.

Hank across from me seemed unfocused, as if looking through everyone to see another girl.

He was truly heartbroken.

I had a few drinks myself and was eventually dragged back by my beautiful roommate.

That night, I had a wonderful dream. I dreamt our olives sold for a great price, enough for Hank to marry into my family.

Just as the dream turned inappropriate, my phone rang. Annoyed, I opened my eyes to find a message from Hank.

"Who are you?"

Wow, I was a complete nobody in his mind.

I had to recount the events of the previous night. Mr. Barnett was sparing with words. I said a lot, and he only replied with a "hmm."

I didn't know what got into me, but I replied, "Can I pursue you?"

Hank's response was straightforward, "No."

I quickly followed up, "Or do you need someone devoted to you?

Complete devotion."

Hank fell into an eerie silence, then sent a question mark after a while.

I knew that an interesting soul could truly touch his heart, so I pressed on, "A persistent admirer wins it all in the end."

Hank sent a smiley face, which seemed more like a sarcastic laugh.

But who cares? I'm Maddie, and if nothing else, I'm shamelessly persistent. It's just a man, after all; pursuing him is all that matters.

As they say, persistence pays off in love, and the same persistence works both ways. I secretly plotted to first strengthen my relationship with Hank.

That was how I first met him, and thinking about it, I drifted off to sleep.

I slept soundly, without dreams, and wouldn't have woken up if the sun hadn't been shining on my face.

I must say, blankets are incredibly cozy in winter.

Hank was sleeping on the sofa, and he was truly handsome, with long eyelashes and a straight nose.

His lips were rosy and inviting.

He liked oranges, so he always had a faint, fresh scent.

I was mesmerized, remembering how I used to follow him around in school.

I wondered if he found it annoying, but he never seemed to reject me.

His eyelashes fluttered, and Hank opened his eyes.

His voice, deep and magnetic, was like a cat's paw scratching at my heart.

"What are you doing?"

My brain didn't react in time, and I blurted out, "You smell nice."

An awkward tension filled the air as I blinked at the man in front of me, whose ears turned crimson as he awkwardly turned away.

"How long have you been using that line?"

Oh right, I once said I wanted to be Hank's devoted admirer.

I scraped together my meager living expenses, eating bread just to bring him coffee in summer and potatoes in winter.

Especially after basketball games, while other girls brought mineral water, I made sure my coffee was in a thermos to keep it from getting watered down.

But Hank pursed his lips and skipped my coffee.

"I don't like things too bitter."

I was overjoyed; coffee costs a lot per cup.

If he didn't like bitter things, then a four-dollar lemon tea was perfect.

So the next day, I brought lemon tea to Hank.

At that time, Hank had just come out of the bathhouse, his hair still wet and dripping, looking utterly charming.

There was that orange scent.

I couldn't help but take a deep breath.

"You smell nice."

Hank said nothing, but I could see the word "weirdo" in his slightly trembling dark eyes.

Perhaps his good upbringing kept him from saying anything harsh, so he walked past me in silence.

I ended up consuming all the gifts myself.

Thinking back, I felt a bit nostalgic and moved, "It's not a line, it's genuine."

Hank's ears turned red as if they were about to bleed.

He stood up, adjusted his suit, and coughed awkwardly.

"Do you have new toothbrush here?

I'll take you out for breakfast later."

"Hey, no, let me fulfill my role as a devoted admirer.

Just wait, I'll make breakfast for you myself."

I had made breakfast for Hank before, and his comment was, "Even my Oreo eats better than this."

Oreo was Hank's cat, as picky as its owner.

He might have thought my cooking skills had improved over three years, but surprise!

I still couldn't cook!

I had survived on instant foods, like instant soup and stew.

Fifteen minutes in the pot, and voilà, a delicious meal.

Hank hesitated with his fork, but in the end, he watched as I devoured all the stews, then contentedly burped.

"Do you usually eat this stuff?"

He frowned, looking a bit displeased.

"Move in with me today."

I slowly put on a puzzled face, and Hank coughed twice.

"If you're going to live off someone, you should do it in style, overlooking the city from the highest point, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, with a wine glass in one hand and your patron's arm in the other.

I invite you to be my cherished lover."

Hank's eyes were captivating, especially when he looked at someone seriously.

It was like they held stars, and all those stars were just for you, leaving no room for anything else.

I suddenly remembered that our relationship improved on a rainy day.

Our daily routine of good morning, good afternoon, good night.

Have you eaten? What are you doing? How's your mood today? Do you miss me?

Hank said he was in the library, and seeing the gloomy sky outside, I thought the rain would be quite something.

So I reminded him to head back early, but Hank didn't reply.

Worried, I grabbed an umbrella and went to find him.

Halfway there, raindrops the size of beans started pouring down, and the sky was shrouded in dark clouds, making it look like night had fallen.

Even with an umbrella, my shoulders got soaked.

Hank looked surprised to see me, with my hair a mess and clothes wet, making me look particularly disheveled.

Not to mention the dripping umbrella, which was quite an eyesore.

Hank inquired, "What are you doing?"

I gave a silly smile, "Bringing you an umbrella."

Hank seemed speechless for a moment, then smiled helplessly.

"Samuel is picking me up."

I had forgotten that these rich kids didn't need umbrellas.

The atmosphere was a bit awkward, and I stared at my toes, wishing I could find a hole to crawl into.

"Are you free tonight? I'll take you to that new barbecue place you wanted to try." Hank inquired.

I had posted on Facebook. "Hope someone takes me to the new barbecue place this summer for a feast."

I looked up and saw Hank's sparkling eyes.

Damn, how could this man be so irresistibly charming?

Samuel came to pick us up. His impression of me was as a girl relentlessly pursuing Hank.

Parenthesis, not a beauty.

Seeing me, Samuel was clearly surprised, then teased, "Wow, the toad finally caught the swan!"

Though he compared me to a toad, the words "caught the swan" put me in a good mood, even triggering my passive skill-loving gaze.

I didn't know if Hank caught my glance, but he subtly distanced himself from me and told Samuel to watch his mouth.

"She's a girl," Hank emphasized, "don't bully her."

I'd heard rumors about Samuel being a flirt, but everyone described Hank as aloof, serious, and a gentleman.

Being friends with someone like Hank was enough to brag about for a lifetime, let alone catching him.

The young man raised an eyebrow, filled a glass with beer, and reminded me to drink less when he handed it over.

I stared at his eyes, suddenly feeling hopeful, "Hank, we're friends, right?"

He smiled gently, like soft ice cream, sweet enough to make my heart tremble.

"Of course."

I started acting like a devoted admirer under the guise of friendship, and everyone in the dorm knew I liked Hank.

It was like I was possessed, determined to succeed or meet my end.

I wouldn't miss any of Hank's games or any chance to express my feelings.

If there was a celestial event, I'd invite him a week in advance, afraid another girl might beat me to it.

Even Samuel was moved by my persistence, occasionally giving me tips on Hank's whereabouts.

He'd shake his head at me, "Maddie, you should give up. Hank is truly hard to win over.

It has been a year, and I'm tired just watching you chase after him!"

I sighed, "The mission isn't over; we must keep pushing forward.

The dawn of victory is ahead, how can I give up easily?

At least, he hasn't rejected me!"

Samuel looked at me, wanting to say something, but in the end, he didn't.

"Come on, I'll treat you to barbecue!"

Back then, I thought Samuel was a pretty good friend too.

There was a meteor shower on Wednesday, and I eagerly prepared a telescope, planning to invite Hank to watch it with me.

But he accepted another girl's invitation.

Damn it, I was just one class late, and someone else beat me to it.

Hank looked at me, with a hint of panic in his eyes, maybe not even knowing why he was panicking.

He even started explaining to me, "She's my uncle's daughter; I couldn't refuse."

Then he pursed his lips and tentatively inquired, "If you want to watch with me, how about I turn her down?"

To be honest, after so many years, the details had become quite blurry.

But I remembered that day I happily ate two bowls of rice because I was sure that Hank cared about me.

For a moment, I felt like I was on the brink of capturing his heart.

Fast forward to now, the person I chased throughout my youth suddenly offered to support me. It was thrilling.

Yet, my ridiculous pride made me hesitate briefly before I decisively refused.

Letting someone I liked see me in such a miserable state was just too embarrassing.

Hank was stunned too. He probably saw through my silly pride and generously offered a different option.

"How about becoming my assistant? Eight thousand a month.

Half of it goes to pay off your debt until it's cleared."

"Deal!"

I quickly agreed, afraid he might change his mind.

Hank ruffled my already messy hair even more.

"Maddie, I miss you."

I was taken aback and weakly inquired, "Is this assistant position a personal one?"

He laughed, "If you want to take advantage of me, I wouldn't mind."

Three

Well, that's not entirely out of the question.

"Let's start work today then."

If you were going to take a shortcut, you had to be diligent. You couldn't slack off, and you had to complete the tasks assigned by the boss well.

Hank's car wasn't exactly luxurious. He wasn't a flashy person and didn't like being envied. He preferred comfort over showiness.

Yet, sitting in the passenger seat, I still felt like Cinderella in a pumpkin carriage.

The leather seats felt amazing, perfectly fitting the curve of my back.

It was a design marvel, something I could never afford even if I worked my whole life. The thought of working hard just so the boss could get a new car next year made me mentally curse the unfairness of life a hundred times.

Even Hank's stunning face seemed distorted!

Society truly changed people. Back in school, liking a boy only meant figuring out how to pursue him.

Now, I had to consider that one of his outfits could cost as much as my entire wardrobe.

I felt inferior.

I didn't want to walk into the company with Hank. Despite I was fearless, there were moments when I was surprisingly embarrassed.

I couldn't stand the curious gazes, especially when they lingered between Hank and me.

I was too self-aware, knowing I had neither talent nor looks.

In school, I could brush it off as immaturity, but now, being so oblivious would be laughable.

Just like in college, when a pretty and wealthy girl asked me, "Maddie, do you truly think you're worthy of Hank?

Do you know what his ex-girlfriend was like?"

Back then, I deceived myself, thinking if Hank liked me, nothing else mattered.

But I ignored the possibility that he might not like me.

Even now, I didn't receive a definite answer.

The receptionist was a round-faced girl who widened her almond eyes when she saw me with Hank.

"This is my personal assistant, Maddie. Have Melanie from the Human Resources Department help her with the paperwork.

Her desk will be in my office."

Hank seemed busy, frequently checking his watch after taking a call.

He left me with the receptionist and hurried out.

"I heard today is the day Mr. Barnett's girlfriend returns." The receptionist said.

"Girlfriend?"

The girl looked envious. "That's what I heard. It's someone Mr. Barnett has liked since school, and she's finally coming back."

I frowned. No wonder he's been single all these years. Apparently, the person in his heart never moved on.

And yet, he offered to support me. Truly, a change in just a few days makes all the difference. Even Hank could be a jerk.

I didn't wait long before a woman in her early thirties, with exquisite makeup and a warm smile, came to greet me.

This must be Melanie.

"Miss Yates?"

I nodded, "Yes, I'm the new assistant..."

"Mr. Barnett has already informed me."

Clearly, we weren't on the same level when it came to flattery. Melanie held my hand, acting as if we were long-lost sisters.

"No wonder you're a special hire. You must be extraordinary to have Mr. Barnett personally inform me.

No one else gets this treatment."

Embarrassingly, my greatest skill in life was getting paid to do nothing, making the most of the system.

As Hank's personal assistant, no one else assigned me tasks.

He wasn't around since morning, so I sat idly at my desk, twirling a pen and reminiscing about that unattainable first love-Hank's first love.

As you age, your mind rusts. I only remembered that Hank's first love's last name was Harris, with charming, flirtatious eyes.

Her face was fair, and when she smiled, she had two shallow dimples. Not just men, even I found her overly attractive.

Yes, they were a perfect match.

Hank's office was off-limits, and the warm winter afternoon sun was too comfortable.

My eyelids grew heavy, and I unknowingly fell asleep at my desk.

When I awoke, a coat was draped over me. Hank stood with his back to me, silhouetted against the light.

His broad back was all I could see. When he turned, his face was weary.

"Maddie, I want you to meet someone."

I had imagined countless scenarios of meeting Hank's unattainable first love. In my youth, I naively thought I'd stand by Hank's side, proudly declaring my territory over her.

But now, it felt awkward, even making my palms sweat.

Hank easily saw through my discomfort but said nothing, simply handing me a tissue.

As we neared our destination, he chuckled lazily.

"I remember you used to drink a lot of water when you were nervous, finishing a bottle in one go. Why not now?"

I rolled my eyes and said,

"Who knew Mr. Barnett was so stingy? Not even a bottle of water in the car. Can't you see I'm already biting my nails?"

Hank smirked. "Eunice isn't hard to get along with."

Oh, his first love's name was Eunice.

I sighed. "Do you know the term 'love triangle'?"

"What, are you planning to be my current girlfriend?"

Hank was gripping the steering wheel. His casual question made my heart race.

I never expected Hank to know about such classic heart-wrenching literature.

But he was right, if I wasn't his current girlfriend, it wouldn't be a love triangle.

Annoyed, I retorted, "Stay single forever!"

Hank glanced at me. "I've been single for six years. Forever doesn't seem that long."

Wow, Hank truly was committed.

We finally arrived at a simple apartment complex.

I was surprised. I remembered that Eunice's family wasn't as wealthy as Hank's, but they weren't poor. Why she live here?

Seeing my confusion, Hank explained, "Her family had some issues, basically went bankrupt.

She's back to use Spideradio Company as a springboard for her career. So, you're colleagues now."

I was so shocked I bit my nail off. Hank grabbed my hand. "Aren't you too old for such childish habits?

Doesn't it hurt?"

I ignored him and inquired, "Is Eunice an assistant too?"

"No, she's applying for a department manager position."

Seeing my bewildered expression, Hank held my face. "You're the only personal assistant."

I rolled my eyes, thinking, thankfully, our positions shouldn't overlap often.

Eunice waited for us downstairs. She was a porcelain beauty, like a perfectly sculpted porcelain doll, too beautiful to seem real.

Her white dress perfectly outlined her figure, and the light wool coat elevated her overall elegance.

With curvy and alluring figure. Yet, her doll-like face made you want to protect her.

Truly, perfect.

When she saw me, she seemed to waver slightly, her face paling, making her speech seem forced.

"Who is this?"

"My personal assistant, Maddie."

Eunice smiled gently. "So, you went to pick her up?"

She stepped forward, naturally trying to link arms with Hank, but he stepped aside.

Hank frowned, maintaining a distance from Eunice.

I watched her lower her hands in disappointment but quickly regained her composure, smiling brightly. "I'm starving, Hank.

Let's have dinner."

Hank turned to me. "What do you want to have?"

In an instant, Eunice's face seemed to pale even more.

Seeing a beautiful woman in distress always tugs at the heartstrings. I must admit, I was a bit of a sucker for a pretty face, and I felt an urge to comfort her.

Hank seemed oblivious, his eyes glued to me.

Trembling, I cautiously redirected the question to Eunice.

"Miss Harris, what would you like to have?"

She pursed her lips, exuding an unparalleled sweetness. "Let's have Japanese food then."

I had always felt that Japanese cuisine was more about the ambiance. It was the kind of setting where couples can easily nurture their relationship.

For someone like me, a simple soul, the more authentic the Japanese food was, the less palatable it became.

The key issue was that despite its high price, it never filled my hungry stomach.

This Japanese restaurant was on the thirty-seventh floor, with a window-side booth offering a panoramic view of the riverbank.

As the city lights began to twinkle, the river shimmered beautifully.

The soothing music relaxed my weary body, and a sip of sake felt like a moment of bliss.

Eunice seemed to frequent this place often. Despite the years, she still remembered the chef, chatting cheerfully with Hank about the past.

"The chef here is quite peculiar. He decides what to serve based on his mood. If you don't like it, he won't make for you next time."

She picked up a piece of Arctic scallop, savoring it with endless praise for its taste.

Hank, however, remained silent, not engaging in her conversation.

I had never been fond of raw food. No matter how skilled the chef, if it wasn't cooked, it left a fishy taste lingering on my tongue.

Unfortunately, this meal would cost 7,800 dollars!

Not wanting to waste food and with my stomach protesting, I finally succumbed and reached for the tuna sushi with my chopsticks.

As the fish entered my stomach, my gut reacted with a joyful spasm.

"Ugh!"

Oh no!

I covered my mouth, but the sourness kept rising.

I was sitting next to Hank, he turned slightly to let me rush to the restroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eunice looking down, lost in thought.

She must be feeling upset.

When I emerged from the restroom, Eunice was leaning against the wall. Seeing me, she apologized sincerely, "I'm sorry. I used to come here with Hank often and forgot to inquire your preference.

My apologies."

I was used to being taken advantage of, so when someone was polite to me, I became flustered and unsure how to respond.

Especially when it was a beautiful woman, I quickly waved my hands, "No worries, it doesn't matter. It's just my stomach acting up lately, nothing to do with you."

Eunice sighed, her eyes glistened as if tears were about to fall.

"Could you please stay away from Hank?"

I was momentarily stunned. Eunice, with her head down, whispered, "He's all I have."

I was not a heartless villain who could remain indifferent to a vulnerable girl.

But honestly, Hank and I had no substantial relationship. If anything, it was just my infatuation with him for those years.

But after hitting a wall, I decisively backed off because I knew Hank's heart always had a place for Eunice.

Even if he reminisced about my kindness, it might just be because he couldn't let go of my past persistence.

But when it came to making a choice, he would probably leave me for Eunice, just like today.

So, I smiled calmly and told her, "Don't worry, Hank and I are just in a professional relationship."

Eunice seemed slightly relieved and nodded at me, "Thank you for taking care of Hank."

I nodded back, "No problem, just make sure I get a raise."

The meal suddenly lost its appeal, and I had no intention of lingering with them.

I sent Hank a message saying I wasn't feeling well and left early.

This winter was truly cold. Even wrapped in a down jacket, the wind seemed to pierce my bones.

I still had Hank's bank card in my bag. After paying off my debts, I hadn't checked how much was left.

But thinking about how he offered to support me this morning, my heart skipped a beat.

Now, it felt crushed once more.

As I walked along the curb towards home, a car suddenly stopped beside me.

Hank rolled down the window, his face as cold as the sculpture in Velvet Plaza, clearly displeased.

"Get in."

I glanced inside. Eunice was in the back seat, her expression was unclear, but the atmosphere felt subtly tense.

"Um, I'm almost home."

This lie was so unconvincing that Hank's expression became even worse.

After a moment, he played his trump card, "If you don't get in, I'll dock your pay."

Damn, the harsh reality of capitalism.

I already owed him money; if he docked my pay, what would I have left?

Reluctantly, I climbed into the passenger seat.

The car headed towards Eunice's home, and no one spoke until we parked. Even with the heater on, the temperature seemed to drop.

When Eunice got out, she inquired Hank at the window, "Will you pick me up tomorrow?"

Her voice was full of hope, hard to refuse.

But Hank wasn't an ordinary person. He replied coldly, "Work starts at nine. There's plenty of time to get to the office.

Don't be late."

At that moment, I heard the sound of a breaking heart.

Eunice said nothing, waving outside the window, "Drive safely."

Hank drove off with me, this time heading towards the city center.

He stopped at a coffee shop and got me a cup of hot milk.

"Have some first. I'll take you to dinner."

"No, no. I'll just make something for myself at home."

Hank glanced at me, "You mean those instant meals even Oreo won't touch?"

I silently shut my mouth. If someone offers a meal, why not accept it?

After a while, Hank said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you couldn't have Japanese food.

It was Eunice's first day back, and it wouldn't have been right to embarrass her.

There won't be a next time," he added, "I and Eunice are just friends now. If anything, it's out of respect for our families' past ties."

I was taken aback, "Why are you telling me this?"

He seemed to grit his teeth, "Because I'm bored and don't want my subordinates to misunderstand and think I'm having an affair!"

"Oh~"

Hank floored the gas pedal, "Forget the restaurant. I'll cook for you."

As soon as we entered, Oreo dashed out, rubbing its head against Hank's pant leg.

He picked up the cat, affectionately bumping heads with it, then handed it to me, "Play with it for a while.

I'll cook."

The place was a duplex, spacious but simply decorated.

Since Hank lived alone, it lacked a homely feel.

Who would have thought that a wealthy man like Mr. Barnett would spend his nights alone, cooking his own meals?

Oreo was soft and obedient, perhaps due to its age, and quickly purred in my arms.

I have no resistance to anything fluffy, wanting to bury my head in Oreo's belly.

Soon, the kitchen was filled with a delicious aroma. I placed Oreo on the sofa and approached Hank.

He was wearing an apron, skillfully flipping food in the pan, his expression calm yet filled with warmth.

"Just a bit longer. The pork chops need to simmer properly."

I once imagined that if I ever lived with a guy I liked, he must know how to cook.

The goal was to feed me and gently pinch my cheek, calling me foodie.

Due to time constraints, Hank's kitchen didn't have many ingredients. He could only make pork chops and chicken soup.

He held a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, urging me to wash my hands and have dinner, looking every bit like a perfect homemaker.

I suddenly laughed, remembering how I once vowed to cook for Hank so he wouldn't always dine out.

Wasn't my cooking good enough?

The result was that Hank became a great cook, while I ended up relying on takeout and instant meals, feeling ashamed!

Starving all day, the sight and smell of the pork chops made my mouth water.

Paired with rice, each bite was a burst of happiness!

It was so delicious I almost cried.

Hank thoughtfully prepared a glass of water.

"Take your time, no one's going to take it from you!"

He patted my hand, "Why are you dining so hastily?"

He had no idea how hungry I was, that glass of milk barely touched my empty stomach.

Hank laughed, "If you like it, I can make it for you every day."

"Better not, I'm afraid your girlfriend might get jealous." I said.

Hank's smile faded, replaced by his usual stoic expression.

"If I had a girlfriend, would you even be in this room, hmm?"

You might not have a girlfriend, but that doesn't stop others from wanting to reconnect with an ex.

I thought gloomily, deciding to have a couple more bowls of rice.

Hank ate very little, just like when we had Japanese food.

When he put down his fork, I felt embarrassed, like I was a glutton.

I pushed the untouched glass of water towards him, signaling him to drink.

After finishing the water, Hank gave me a deep look and then unbuttoned his shirt.

From this angle, I could see his well-defined chest through the open collar, wondering if there were six-pack abs beneath.

"I've been so busy with work that I've ruined my appetite, so I can't eat much at night.

Don't hold back, I'm going to shower."

He left for the bathroom, perhaps to spare me any awkwardness. I finished the dish and soup, then lay back on the sofa, letting out a satisfied burp.

"Ah, that feels good."

I was a bit too full.

I turned on the TV, enjoying the curved LCD screen.

Just as I was getting into it, Hank called me.

"Maddie, can you grab some clothes from the bedroom for me?

It's the first room on the left upstairs."

I was too lazy to move after eating, but since sponsor inquired, I had to comply.

Dragging my tired body upstairs, I entered Hank's bedroom and turned on the light to find his clothes.

His bed was huge, huge enough for two people to roll around on.

But the side meant for a woman was occupied by a fox pillow, almost half the size of a person.

It was a birthday gift from me to Hank, meant to be a pair, though I lost the other one during a move.

My eyes stung with emotion, surprised he still kept it.

Carrying the clothes downstairs, I found Hank reservedly wrapped in a towel around his waist.

The sight was breathtaking, almost giving me a nosebleed.

Hank glanced at my protruding belly and pinched my soft flesh.

"Not bad, extra soft."

Damn!

By the time Hank finished his shower, I had already watched an episode of a drama. I wondered what took him so long.

But I must admit, a freshly showered man smells really good. As the saying goes, "You're irresistible."

Hank, drying his hair, suggested I take a shower. It was late, and the situation-a man and woman alone-made my imagination run wild.

I hugged myself defensively, "What do you want?"

He seemed exasperated, "I've been driving all day and I'm too tired to take you home.

Would you mind sleeping in the guest room tonight?"

His sincerity won me over. I entered the bathroom to find the bath ready, the water at the perfect temperature for a relaxing soak.

After the bath, I discovered a new robe in the bathroom. Hank had deliberately let me see the fox pillow in his room.

Was life too dull for him, needing me to spice it up?

Thinking this, I emerged to find Hank had even washed my clothes.

I never realized he had the potential to be such a domestic partner.

The guest room's bedding matched Hank's, like a couple's set.

"Get some rest early, goodnight."

Before he left, I couldn't help but ask, "Why haven't you thrown away that pillow?"

"It was a gift from my loved one. How could I?"

Without waiting for my reaction, he closed the door behind him, leaving me stunned.

Those pillows weren't cheap, I sacrificed half a month's rest to buy them.

Back then, Hank and I were close friends.

Everyone around him knew me, even the whole school knew I was his shadow.

I planned to elevate my status from friend to lover on his birthday.

But Hank spent his birthday at home, away from school.

I spent the day in the dorm with the fox pillows, earning a sigh from my beautiful roommate, "You're turning into a love-struck fool!"

I just gazed at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle, "Love is exhausting."

My roommate ignored me, getting ready for her date.

I thought I wouldn't see Hank that day, but at nine, he invited me out for barbecue.

I was so excited, I grabbed the fox pillow and dashed out like a wild horse.

Hank looked exceptionally handsome that night, though still his usual cool self.

But he was on a motorcycle!

What girl hadn't dreamt of holding her crush's waist on a back of motorcycle? Tonight, fate smiled on me.

When I tentatively wrapped my arms around Hank's firm waist, he didn't object, instead telling me to hold on tight.

Honestly, my heart was like a river, overflowing with excitement.

The wind was gentle, carrying the unique scent of autumn leaves across my face.

Hank's subtle fragrance made my heart race, driven by hormones.

We ordered a spicy barbecue, the heat numbing and exhilarating.

Hank's nose was sweating, his face flushed.

"Maddie, you can truly handle spice."

I didn't expect it to be this spicy, but the more it burned, the more I wanted to have it.

Soon, we were both laughing at each other's reactions, cooling off with ice cream.

"Weren't you supposed to celebrate your birthday at home?

How come you're out?"

"They were too noisy, so I found an excuse to slip away."

I teased him, "Weren't you just after the birthday gift I got you?"

Hank chuckled, poking the fox pillow's chubby cheek, "Where am I supposed to put something this big?"

"On your bed, so you won't feel lonely!"

I wanted to say I bought a pair, so they'd keep each other company.

Hank seemed to nod, then said, "Thanks, I do get scared sleeping alone."

After the barbecue, we went to the riverside.

The grass was still green, a bit prickly.

We lay side by side, the stars merging with the river, creating a magical, beautiful scene I never wanted to leave.

Hank held the fox pillow, its softness making him squint with pleasure.

Afraid he'd fall asleep, I nudged him, but he stopped me.

"Maddie, don't. I'm ticklish.

It's fine, I won't fall asleep. I still have to take you back.

I'm just thinking."

I sat up, Hank lying down, his hand reaching to tuck my hair behind my ear, smiling foolishly.

"Maddie, you haven't wished me a happy birthday yet."

"I forgot. Is it too late now?

Happy birthday, Hank."

He said he made a birthday wish that already came true.

On the way back, I was nervous, wanting to inquire if I could be his girlfriend.

But what came out was, "Can I pursue you?"

"Mm."

His answer was so soft, it vanished into the wind.

The past was hard to look back on. I had always been a late-night person, and after sleeping all day, I wasn't tired at all by one o'clock.

The door creaked open like my mom checking on me.

I quickly turned off my phone, pretending to sleep.

Hank came in, crouching by my bed, brushing my hair aside.

"I know you don't believe I like you, but it's okay. Time will prove it."

I heard Hank chuckle softly, "I didn't dare disturb you, thinking you didn't want me anymore.

But it turns out I was just a coward.

Don't worry, Maddie, chasing someone is tiring. This time, let me be the one to love you."