Chapter Forty Seven

Isa stepped out of the bathroom in a robe, toweling her damp hair. The hot bath had washed away the chill, bringing color back to her pale skin and cheeks. Her face looked smooth, radiant—even a little serene.

She scanned the room, but Chris wasn’t there.

With a soft sigh, she turned to the bed, hoping to find clothes—but it was empty. Then she spotted the teapot and saucer on the shelf. A gentle plume of steam rose from the spout, filling the room with a warm, rich aroma. Her heart swelled. Her cheeks softened into a smile.

Chris made tea?

Isa draped the towel around her neck and stepped toward the door.

She needed to get some clothes.

She opened it and paused. Chris stood in the small parlor, facing his room. Still in his wet clothes, his fingers curled around the edge of the sofa, knuckles white.

His soaked hair clung to his forehead, framing a troubled expression. His brows were furrowed, eyes distant. The white shirt clung to his chest, outlining the lines of his body. Water pooled beneath him, dripping from the hems of his trousers.

Isa blinked.

He hadn’t changed.

And that frown…

Isa squinted, her thoughts flashing back to their quiet, heavy car ride to his house. He’d pulled his hand away from hers, gently but deliberately. He’d asked—twice—if she really wanted to come back with him, and if she was truly over Alex. When they got inside, she noticed how he kept rubbing his brow, scratching his neck. He’d told her to change, saying he would too.

But here he was—still soaked, still distant.

Just moments ago, the smell of tea had warmed her. Now, the silence felt heavier than the rain.

Does he… not trust me? Does he think I lied about loving Alex?

She’d tried not to overthink his actions, tried not to feel like a burden. But when she’d told him she didn’t love Alex, he hadn’t said he believed her. He only nodded, his lips curling into a cryptic smile—like he knew something she didn’t.

Her stomach twisted and she winced. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Don’t jump to conclusions yet, Isa.

She exhaled slowly—loud enough that Chris turned toward her.

“Oh,” he muttered.

She snapped her eyes open.

“You’re… you’re done.” He stammered, and he offered a tight, almost pained smile.

Isa forced a smile of her own, but it faded just as quickly.

“I need to get changed,” she murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh…”

Chris’s voice trailed off. He gave a small nod and gestured toward the room, as if to keep distance between them.

Isa parted her lips, ready to question him—but stopped herself. Instead, she returned to the bedroom, fingers fidgeting with the towel around her neck. It felt like half a minute passed before Chris followed. When their eyes met, he looked away and moved past her to the wardrobe, his brows slightly drawn.

Then why bring me here—just to make me feel unwanted? Her grip on the towel tightened until her knuckles whitened.

Her thoughts spun back to the exhibition hall—to that moment she’d confessed her feelings. He hadn’t responded, hadn’t even acknowledged it. And yet, she’d followed him here like a fool.

Am I that easy to leave behind?

Her chest tightened, as if every word he hadn’t said was pressing down on her ribs.

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

A flicker of fear stirred in her chest.

That surprised her.

She’d confronted him before. She’d even slapped him once.

So why did she feel that fear again? That old anxiety of being his PA?

Isa swallowed.

If she was being honest, he was acting just like her boss—cold, aloof, unreachable.

Am I too quick to hope?

A cold ache crawled up her spine, even in the warmth of the room.

She glanced at him and cleared her throat.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” she muttered. “Do you… not want me here?”

Chris turned to her, eyes wide.

“What?”

Isa met his gaze, hers now guarded, steady.

“Your body says everything. You frown. You rub your brows. You distance yourself from me… like you regret bringing me.”

She turned away, blinking back tears.

“Is it…” she bit her lip, “Is it because of the kiss with Alex? Is that why…?”

Before she could finish, he spun her around. His hands cupped her face, and her tear-filled eyes locked onto the hurt in his.

Chris shook his head. “No. Not that, Isa.”

“Then what?” she cried, her voice cracking. The thought of him hating her—of him rejecting her again—seared her chest.

“I swear,” he said, his eyes searching hers, “I’m not thinking about that. I… I…”

His lips trembled, and he looked away.

“You what?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Chris closed his eyes, tension drawing lines across his forehead.

Isa stared at him, unsure.

She remembered how he never invited people to his home. Even his personal doctor knew little about him. He kept everyone at arm’s length.

Is that why he’s uncomfortable with me here?

Tears welled in her eyes, catching the light.

What happened to the cheerful boy I once knew?

She parted her lips to speak again—but he opened his eyes.

Then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

His fingers wiped her tears gently, so gently she felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Warmth spread through her. Whatever she meant to say—gone.

“I hate it when you cry,” he whispered, his breath brushing her skin.

Isa’s breath hitched. For a moment, she stared into his eyes, as if searching for sincerity. Then, slowly, she raised her hands and cupped his face.

“Then don’t make me cry,” she said under her breath. “Don’t pull away again.”

His gaze flicked down to her lips.

Her breath caught. Heat surged into her cheeks as she bit her lip. The thought had barely formed before her back hit the wall. He leaned in, his face burning under her touch. His eyes lingered on her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

And she felt it—his lips, wet and urgent, pressed against hers. He leaned into her, fingers slipping into her hair.

It was as if everything else had vanished into thin air—even her own heartbeat fell silent. All she could feel was his warmth: the gentle pull of his fingers in her hair, the heat of his lips, the rush of his breath, the steady thud of his heart, and the scent of rain cloaking her like a veil.

Isa wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and kissed him back—without hesitation.

I’m so sorry for the delay! 🙈 I’ve been really busy lately, and I truly appreciate your patience. Thank you for your understanding. I hope you enjoy this chapter! 📖💫 I’d love to hear your thoughts or see your reactions to the story. 😊💬