Finn walked over to Aoife and paused, quietly staring at her sleeping face. Even in her sleep, her brows were furrowed, a sign of unrest.
He reached out and placed his hand on her forehead. Startled, Aoife abruptly opened her eyes and, in her instinctual reaction to the surprise, forgot she was on the narrow couch. She tumbled to the floor, hitting her shoulder on the coffee table with a loud thud, leaving a red mark.
Cradling her shoulder in pain, Aoife, now fully awake, looked at Finn with red eyes.
“Mr. Snearl, have you eaten?” Her first words were to inquire whether Finn had eaten, a habit borne out of caring for his physical and emotional well-being.
Although Finn had eaten earlier, he suddenly felt hungry.
“Not yet,” he replied.
Ignoring her own physical fatigue in the wee hours of the morning, Aoife got up and headed to the kitchen to make a bowl of noodles for Finn.
Finn enjoyed clear broth noodles sprinkled with chopped green onions and topped with a fried egg. The golden soup exuded a fragrant aroma, whetting the appetite.
“Mr. Snearl, the noodles are ready. Come and eat,” Aoife called out, offering Finn a small bowl of noodles, unsure if it would be enough to satisfy him. It was not advisable to eat too much at night, as it could lead to health issues and upset the stomach.
Finn gazed at the golden noodles on the table and started eating. Aoife had made the noodles herself, and they had a chewy texture and were not overcooked.
As he took a bite and then another, Aoife sat quietly beside him, watching him eat without saying a word.
Saving the fried egg for last, Finn finished the broth from the bowl and left a few chopped green onions behind.
“Mr. Snearl, happy birthday.”
Startled, Finn lifted his head to look at Aoife, puzzled by her unexpected greeting.
Aoife bit her lip, her demeanor tinged with nervousness. She struggled to control her trembling and spoke cautiously, “I know your birthday was yesterday, but I still wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
Finn’s birthday was on August 19, just yesterday, barely half an hour past.
In fact, yesterday morning, Aoife had texted him, asking if he would come back, but he was preoccupied with Lily at the time and had ignored her.
Since his mother’s passing, no one had celebrated Finn’s birthday with him. The Burns family viewed him as a stain, and Old Burns, though aware of his birthday, had never thrown him a birthday party. He felt it would be unfair to his legitimate grandson, Hamish, considering Finn was born out of wedlock to a woman who had been the mistress of another.
So… he had almost forgotten his own birthday.
It had been a long time since anyone had said “happy birthday” to him.
Only Aoife… only Aoife.
Finn couldn’t quite describe how he felt at that moment. His heart ached, but there was a sweetness in his mouth. He couldn’t deny that he didn’t dislike this feeling.
Pushing back the chair behind him, Finn said, “Clean up the bowl.”
“Okay.” Aoife breathed a sigh of relief when Finn didn’t get angry. As she picked up the bowl and was about to head to the kitchen, Finn’s voice echoed from behind.
“In the bag on the living room sofa is a gift I got for you. Take a look at it later.”
Startled for a moment, Aoife turned to look back at Finn, but he had already walked away.
After washing the dishes, drying her hands meticulously, and ensuring they were clean, Aoife entered the living room. There, on the sofa, was a shopping bag that contained a beautiful white dress.
It was the first time she had seen such a lovely white dress. She took it out and held it against herself, admiring how it looked on her.
A white dress… this time, Finn had not given her a red one.
Compared to red, Aoife preferred white. Did Finn know this seemingly insignificant detail about her preference?
Holding the dress close to her, she carefully folded it and placed it back in the bag, being mindful not to wrinkle it.
Aoife was easily appeased. Show her a little consideration and respect, and she would forget all the past unfair treatment.
Bringing the white dress to her bedroom, Aoife hesitated to wear it. She gingerly hung it in the wardrobe among the row of red dresses, where it stood out incongruously among the crimson garments.
Upstairs, half an hour had passed since Finn had gone up. Still echoing in his mind was Aoife’s greeting, “Mr. Snearl, happy birthday.”
Yesterday was his birthday, and none of his subordinates, family, business partners, friends, not even his supposed fiancée, knew about it.
People who truly cared about you didn’t need you to say much; they would hold it in their hearts.
Feeling a warmth spread through him, which was not a good sign, Finn took a cold shower to dispel any lingering thoughts about Aoife. He shouldn’t care about her. What was Aoife? Just a pastime, a trained “dog” for his entertainment. He shouldn’t be concerned with someone like her.
In Finn’s life, he always knew when to cut his losses. If something felt off, he would sever ties without hesitation.
He knew Aoife couldn’t stay. Even if she resembled Elisa, cooked like her, and cared for him well, he couldn’t keep her. It wasn’t just the strange emotions he was experiencing; it was also about Lily not tolerating her.
Buying her this white dress today could be considered a form of compensation. Tomorrow, he would send Aoife back to Hamish to keep him occupied.
After all, Aoife bore a striking resemblance to Elisa. Hamish might decide to keep her around to alleviate his lovesick heart, unbeknownst to anyone. Old Burns increasingly disapproved of Hamish. If he found out there was a woman resembling “Elisa” by his side, he would likely fly into a rage and become even more disappointed in Hamish.
By getting rid of Aoife, Finn could create trouble for Hamish. It was a win-win situation.
The peculiar feeling in his heart gradually subsided. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He vowed not to become like his mother, who had thrown her life away for love, or like Hamish.
Jumping into a pit when you knew it was there made you a fool.
With these thoughts, Finn went to bed troubled, and in the morning, before 6 a. m., the sound of clashing in the kitchen indicated that Aoife was preparing breakfast.
She was wearing the white dress, accentuating her slender waist and giving her already fair skin a fresh, ethereal quality. She looked like a celestial being in human form.
Upon hearing him, Aoife turned and, upon seeing Finn, smiled brightly. “Mr. Snearl, good morning.”
“Breakfast will be ready soon. Please have a seat.”
In a good mood, her voice carried a cheerful tone. As Finn watched her delicate figure, he felt an inexplicable urge to embrace her.
One by one, Aoife placed the dishes on the table, setting out a morning spread more akin to high tea than breakfast.
Seeing Aoife standing meekly by the wall, Finn beckoned her over. “Come, sit with me and eat.”
It was the first time he had asked Aoife to join him for a meal, and it would also be the last. After this morning, he would send her away.