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“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask, caught off guard by his sudden words.
Jaqin smirked, clearly amused by my bewildered expression. “My mom always says that when your mate’s feeling low, you should take them out to relax. I figured you‘ re not up for anything too wild, so I thought a quiet stroll would do.”
Before I could respond, Kirst jumped in with his usual antics. “I’m feeling down too! Take me along!”
Jaqin sighed, then easily kicked him aside like it was second nature, whisking me away without a second glance. He guided me into his car, ignoring Kirst‘ s dramatic protests as he sped off, leaving my brother in the dust.
I chuckled at the absurdity, and Jaqin glanced my way with a sly wink. “See? Smiling suits you better,” he said casually.
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I quickly lowered my head, trying to hide both the grin on my face and the blush. creeping up my cheeks. A comfortable. silence settled between us as he drove.
aimlessly through the town. I gazed out the window, watching the familiar streets pass. by. It was the same scenery I had seen last night, now bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. The streets were alive with people going about their day.
“Don’t overthink it,” Jaqin said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
“What?” I blinked, startled.
His eyes remained on the road as he slowed the car near a pedestrian crossing.
“The past is done. I don‘ t want you reopening old wounds for anyone’s sake- not even mine. Just trust me. None of it
matters anymore.
It took me a moment to grasp what he
meant.
He smirked again, the tension lifting as he
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added in a playful tone, “But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me ‘noble. I liked that. Say it more.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter at his teasing, and he glanced at me with a look of pure satisfaction.
True to his word, Jaqin spent the morning showing me around town, pointing out. new shops and taking me to places I hadn t visited in years. He bought me a few things–nothing in pairs, I noticed, probably to avoid giving the wrong impression.
After a while, he took me to a cozy restaurant where he insisted on ordering the best dishes for me. Over the meal, he chatted non–stop, a stark contrast to the intimidating figure I’d met that fateful night. He reminded me a little of Kirst- cheerful and lighthearted when he wasn’t busy being serious or scary.
By the time we returned home, the car was packed. Not just the trunk but the entire
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back seat was filled with our purchases.
Kirst stood outside, cradling our Persian cat with a theatrical pout. He looked at us with mock envy, clearly overacting for attention. Jaqin barely acknowledged him, walking past without a care.
I burst into laughter as Kirst huffed, his sulking quickly turning into playful banter with Jaqin. Any lingering irritation from Damien‘ s earlier visit melted away in the warmth of their antics.
The following weeks passed peacefully. My parents checked in often, Kirst kept pestering me in his usual way, and Jaqin stopped by occasionally. While he claimed it was to get to know me better. I knew he enjoyed riling up my brother more than anything else. Regardless, his presence made everything easier to bear.
Three months after the breakup. I found my rhythm again. I landed a position designing women’s clothing for a prestigious tailoring company that
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specialized in gowns. With my experience
and portfolio, they placed me in a senior role almost immediately.
One evening, after finishing my shift, I waited for Jaqin to pick me up for dinner. A receptionist approached, saying someone was waiting for me in the lobby. Assuming it was Kirst, who often dropped by unannounced, I headed out casually.
But it wasn‘ t Kirst.
Standing there were Kaia and Damien.
Damien‘ s eyes lit up when he saw me, and he limped forward in crutches, trying to grab my hand. I instinctively stepped back, keeping my guard up. His expression turned pleading, but he pressed on.
“I brought Kaia to apologize,” he said, shoving her forward.
Kaia’s face contorted into what she likely thought was a remorseful look, but it came across as an exaggerated act. She even mustered up some fake tears. “I’m so
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sorry, Thalia. It was all my fault. I promise I’ll stay away from Damien from now on.”
I crossed my arms, unimpressed. It felt like I was watching a poorly written play.
“Thalia,” Damien said, stepping closer, “she’s apologized. Isn‘ t that enough? Come back home with me. Please.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Do you honestly think her half–hearted apology would change anything? Damien, we‘ re done. We broke up.”
His jaw clenched, his desperation turning into frustration. “Then what do you want from me? Just tell me what to do!”
“You don’t need to do anything,” I replied firmly, stepping aside to leave. But he moved to block my path.
“Damien, stop,” I said, my voice rising. “We’re not together anymore. Let it go!”
