Chapter 4

"I told you to take proper protective measures."

Then he softly comforted Madison.

"It's just a worthless piece of paper with no commercial value. No big deal if it's ruined."

Looking at the painting, completely disfigured by coffee stains, I felt not even a trace of heartache.

I picked up the painting and stuffed it into the paper shredder in the corner.

The machine roared to life.

I looked at Ethan's shocked face and smiled calmly.

"You're right. Just waste paper. Should've thrown it out long ago."

That evening, Ethan did something rare and apologized to me.

"I didn't mean your painting was garbage," he explained. "I was just trying to comfort Madison."

"Make a list of whatever materials you need to repaint. I'll have someone get them."

How rare. In the past five years, he'd never cared what I lacked or needed for painting.

In fact, he didn't even know what I was painting.

This concern I'd waited so long for finally arrived, but I only found it annoying.

I turned over and refused. "No need."

The next day, I had to pick up my grandmother's belongings.

Ethan had promised to take me, but with Madison around, I didn't expect him to actually go with me.

But Ethan kept reminding me from the moment he woke up.

"We're going to get your grandmother's things later. Don't be late."

He paused and added, "Even if you're late, it's fine. I've cleared my whole morning."

I looked at the inexplicable emotion in his eyes, not understanding what it was.

Guilt? I'd lost more than just one painting over five years. Why bother?

On the way to the watch shop, Ethan's phone rang.

It was Madison.

With tears in her voice, she said the exhibition model she was responsible for had the wrong dimensions and the client was giving her hell on-site. She urgently needed Ethan to come support her.

According to Ethan's rule of never getting involved in other people's basic mistakes, he should have refused.

Just like he'd refused to bring me my admission ticket, causing me to miss the research institute exam.

But I knew. The caller was Madison.

Sure enough, without a moment's hesitation, Ethan made an illegal U-turn right on the highway bridge.

Sharp honking erupted behind us.

I watched the route on the GPS instantly veer off course and reminded him, "The watch shop closes at five."

His voice was ice cold.

"A broken watch won't disappear if you pick it up late, but Madison's project involves millions in company profits."

"Your emotional outbursts are seriously interfering with my efficiency. Can't you tell which is more important?"

The car stopped outside the exhibition hall.

The sky had darkened at some point, and rain began to fall.

Ethan unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wait in the car. I'll be quick. I'll take you to get the watch as soon as I'm done."

With that, he locked the car and walked toward Madison, who was waiting anxiously at the entrance.

I watched the time on the dashboard tick by, second by second.

Forty-five minutes passed.

Two hours passed.

The sky grew dark.

Through the blurred rain, I could see Ethan on the second floor by the floor-to-ceiling windows, bent over, patiently helping Madison revise blueprints.

On the table sat an elegant dessert box he'd specially ordered for Madison.

But in the car, there wasn't even a bottle of water.

That alarm of his that always went off on time, reminding him which step of his schedule to proceed with—

For Madison, he'd turned it off too.

His phone was completely silenced. No one could disturb their time.

Much less my calls.

The sky turned completely dark.

Seven whole hours.

The watch shop owner sent a final message: [We've already closed. I'll keep your things for now, but I'm leaving town tomorrow.]