My heart suddenly felt like an invisible hand had gripped it, making it hard to breathe.
“Carter, I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I know you’re still upset with me. This… it’s a thorn in the side of any man.”
“If you don’t like it, then I’ll reject her. Carter, I don’t want to argue with you over this trivial matter.”
Carter remained silent for a long time, then let out a heavy sigh.
He turned and went back to the room, the sound of his cane tapping on the floor echoing in my heart.
“Fine, go if you want to.” He said with his back to me. “But remember, my patience has its limits. I hope this time, you won’t do anything excessive!”
It seemed like my relationship with Carter had hit another dead end.
He didn’t like me working outside, yet he pretended to agree.
He started to hassle me from time to time.
For example, if I came home late and didn’t take care of his meal, he’d nag a bit. Or if I was in the study writing or looking up materials late at night, he’d have someone knock on the door occasionally.
At times, I feel like maintaining this relationship with him has drained me of all my strength.
I felt guilty towards him; after all, he stood by me during my toughest times. But I was also afraid of him, afraid he’d use this to blackmail me for the rest of my life.
One evening, as I was organizing my manuscripts in the study, there was a sudden knock on the door. Thinking it was Carter sending someone to call me again, I reluctantly opened the door and said, “I’ll be back in the room soon…”
But before I could finish my sentence, the face that appeared at the door almost made my heart leap out of my mouth.
“Cameron, you…”
He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him. Then, like a predator patrolling its territory, he paced around, looking around the room.
My heart kept pounding nonstop.
“Starting your own business, not easy, huh?” Cameron picked up the manuscript on the table.
I couldn’t guess his intentions at all. What was he here for? To mock me, ridicule me? Or to get Carter to catch us in the act again?
“Not too bad,” I replied. “Actually, there’s nothing good about that place in the TV station. There are all sorts of invisible rules, and I feel extremely uncomfortable there.”
“And now you’re comfortable?”
“It’s definitely more relaxing than before.”
“I never thought you’d resign…” He chuckled softly. “That was quite unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” I looked up at him, a hint of resentment lingering in my heart. “The daughter of a murderer, how could she work at a TV station? I used to be the one interviewing others, now I’ve become the one being interviewed.”
“But you’ve always had thick skin! You’ve been in our house for fifteen years, and even after your identity was exposed, you continued to stay here as if nothing happened. I thought you’d be the same at the TV station!”
I glared at him. “If you came here tonight to bother me, then please leave. I have work to do.”
“Are you afraid?” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid Carter will find out we’re having an affair here?”
“Stop saying nonsense!”
Little did I know, Cameron suddenly came around behind me and hugged me tightly. I was startled and struggled to break free, but he held me tighter and tighter until I was completely nestled in his embrace.
“Cameron… Are you retaliating against me again? What new trick do you have this time?”
“Don’t move!” His chin pressed against my shoulder, his heavy breathing in my ear.
“Let me hold you for a while,” he whispered. “Just for a moment…”
I smelled alcohol.
He had been drinking.
Yes. Only a drunk person would be so reckless.
His hand slowly moved upward, and wherever his hand touched, it felt like a fire was ignited.
“Cameron, stop it!” I pressed his hand down.
I felt like crying.
“Don’t you like it?” he rasped.
I didn’t say anything. I resisted in my own way.
“Don’t do this again in the future.” I gently pried his hand off. “Cameron, we’re on different paths.”
“Are you on the same path as Carter?” There was a hint of contempt in his voice.
“Laura, don’t be foolish. Even if all the men in this world were dead, you still shouldn’t choose Carter!”
Cameron stood quietly. Time seemed to pass slowly in that moment, so slow that I thought every tick of the clock was an eternity.
He turned and walked out, stopping at the doorway.
“If you can’t write at home, go to the apartment.” He said softly, with his back to me. “Don’t worry, I won’t disturb you during this time. I understand the difficulties of building a career, and I know you’re dedicated to doing this job well. I can see your abilities, you just need a better environment.”
…
After that night, Cameron disappeared again, not seen for several days.
According to his assistant, he had been in Europe during these days, busy with the agreements for a new project.
I felt a bit relieved, realizing that what he said wasn’t false, and he really couldn’t come to bother me. So, after work that evening, I headed straight for the apartment. It was quiet there, perfect for writing, and the computer and internet were both available. Plus, it was conveniently located next to the only 24-hour library in Jerez State, making research incredibly easy.
The apartment had clearly been redecorated. The bed linens and covers were all new, even the sofa covers had been changed.
The refrigerator is filled with all my favorite foods, along with beverages. There’s energizing coffee, as well as beer to help me unwind.
The atmosphere in the apartment was even better. As night fell, I opened the skylight, and the fragrance of flowers and plants wafted in with the evening breeze, intoxicating.
Cameron was always a detail-oriented person.
I looked at everything, feeling slightly teary-eyed.
The doorbell rang a few times before I snapped out of my thoughts. I opened the door to find a kindly looking lady standing outside. “Are you Miss Campbell?”
“Yes,” I nodded, “May I ask who you are?”
“Call me Yasmin,” she smiled, “Mr. Lynch instructed me to take care of your daily life. Are you satisfied with the house? I clean it every day!”
“Yasmin,” I let her in, “Thank you so much!”
“It’s what I should do! Mr. Lynch said… he asked me not to disturb you when you’re writing. You can rest assured, you write in the study, and I’ll be in the kitchen cooking supper. Just call me if you need anything! Miss Campbell, are you a writer?”
“Not really!” I felt embarrassed, “I’m just a journalist at a small magazine, constantly uncovering news and crafting articles each day.”
“Amazing!” She examined me closely, “And you’re so beautiful, that’s great!”
“Yasmin!” I blushed at her praise.
Strangely, upon meeting Yasmin, I felt a strange sense of warmth. She was around forty or fifty years old, similar to Stella’s age, but I felt more inclined to be close to her than to Stella, who had raised me for fifteen years but sometimes treated me like a thorn in her side. Perhaps it was because I lacked maternal love from a young age, and my foster mother was sometimes ill, treating me as a nuisance when her condition worsened. I longed for someone like Yasmin to accompany me, even if it was just to talk.
I told Carter the truth: I needed a quiet environment to write, so I would spend some time in the apartment after work, but I promised to come back at night for sure. Carter just made a slight hmm sound, glanced at me strangely, smirked, then limped away with his cane.
I lowered my head. The crack between Carter and me might never be repaired.
After three busy months, there’s finally some progress at Gnote Magazine, with a few standout pieces in the industry.
However, I still have too little experience, since graduating from college, I haven’t written much. As a result, I haven’t produced much yet. Out of the entire magazine, my performance in these three months has been the poorest. Holly advises me not to lose heart, saying she has always believed in my abilities and trusts her judgment. I know it’s just words of comfort.
That day, I had originally planned to go home early and relax, but after work, I inexplicably found myself heading to the apartment. As soon as I stepped inside, I collapsed onto the sofa.
Suddenly, the living room light turned on.