Chapter 46: Morning After

I wake up twice.

The first time, Bael is already half-dressed across the room, buttoning his shirt with the kind of practiced efficiency that says he’s done this a thousand times.

"What time is it?" I mumble into the pillow.

"Early. Go back to sleep."

"Mm."

I’m already drifting off before the words fully register.

The second time, he’s gone.

The bed beside me is cold, sheets pulled back neat and flat like he was never there.

I sit up slowly, everything aching in ways that bring yesterday back in vivid detail.

The office, the desk, Bael’s hands, All of it.

My face heats up and I shake my head, trying to clear it.

I get up and move to the window, looking out at the grounds.

There’s more security.

Not really obvious, but there are more people stationed around the property than there were yesterday, positioned at intervals that look casual but aren’t.

Uncle Ming’s little lunch visit must have pushed things over the edge.

I go through the motions of getting ready, shower, clothes, trying not to think about yesterday but failing completely because it won’t stop replaying in my head.

Xue Lian showing up.

The way he sat down like he belonged there.

The file, the business talk, the way his fingers brushed Bael’s hand more than once.

I still don’t know what he is to Bael.

Friend who wants more? Ex who never moved on? Something else I’m not seeing?

Whatever it is, it’s not nothing.

But at least, Bael backed me up.

That’s the part that keeps circling back, refusing to settle.

He said yes to lunch at first, just straight up agreed when Xue Lian asked, and I’d felt something drop in my stomach watching that smug look spread across Xue Lian’s face.

But then I pushed back.

And Bael let me.

He didn’t argue or overrule me, he went along with it and let Xue Lian leave looking annoyed.

Then fucked me on his desk like he was making a point.

Though he could have just said no from the start and saved everyone the trouble, but he didn’t, he let me handle it first, watched to see what I’d do.

What was that about?

Testing me? Seeing if I’d fight for him?

I don’t know.

Then there was the dinner.

After everything, the tense lunch with Uncle Ming, the weird afternoon of him working while I ate everything in that fridge, Bael had taken me across town to some upscale place with cloth napkins and waiters who moved like ghosts.

We’d been quiet through most of it.

Not awkward, just... quiet.

Like neither of us knew what to say after the day we’d had.

But it felt nice.

Which is probably stupid.

I head downstairs and find Mrs. Wen in the kitchen, her tablet out on the counter.

The headlines are everywhere.

**"Wuchen CEO and Spouse Make First Public Appearance"**

Photos of us at the company entrance, Bael’s hand holding mine, both of us looking coordinated in a way that must have been planned even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

**"Family Lunch: Wuchen Ming Joins Newlyweds"**

A shot of us walking into the restaurant, Uncle Ming already visible inside.

**"Intimate Dinner: The Wuchens Enjoy Evening Out"**

Bael and me at the restaurant last night, sitting across from each other with warm lighting that makes it look romantic even though we barely talked.

I stare at the photos.

I didn’t see any paparazzi yesterday.

Not one.

Not at the office, not at lunch, definitely not at dinner.

But here they all are, perfectly framed like someone knew exactly where to point the camera.

Did Bael know they were there?

Did he set it up?

Was the dinner actually him wanting to take me out, or was it just another move in whatever PR game he’s playing?

The thought sits uncomfortably.

"You look troubled, Young Master," Mrs. Wen says, setting food in front of me.

"Just thinking."

"About yesterday?"

I glance at her but don’t answer.

She doesn’t push, just gestures at the plate. "Eat. You’ll feel better."

I pick up my chopsticks and eat without tasting anything, my brain still stuck.

Bael backing me up with Xue Lian felt like ownership.

Like he was saying he belonged to me, that I had a claim he was willing to defend.

Which should bother me more than it does.

And the dinner after, even if it was staged, even if the paparazzi were planted...

It still felt like he was trying.

Like maybe he’s not just going through the motions.

Maybe Bael isn’t as bad as I thought.

Maybe he’ll actually take responsibility for this marriage, for me, for the baby growing in my stomach.

Maybe I’m not completely on my own here.

The thought forms warm and hopeful and incredibly dangerous.

I set my chopsticks down.

No.

I’m being stupid.

This is exactly how people get hurt, reading too much into small things, convincing themselves someone cares just because they want it to be true.

Bael backed me up because it was convenient, because it served his interests to keep Uncle Ming’s attention off me.

The dinner was for the cameras, obviously, look at how perfect those photos are.

None of it means what I want it to mean.

I know that.

So why does part of me keep wanting to believe otherwise?

I finish eating in silence, barely tasting the food.

Mrs. Wen collects my plate when I’m done, giving me a look that says she knows exactly what I’m thinking but won’t say it out loud.

She just pats my shoulder once and goes back to her work.

I sit there at the empty table, surrounded by too much space and too much quiet, and try very hard not to think about the fact that I might be falling for someone who definitely isn’t falling back.

I lean back slightly in the chair, staring at nothing in particular.

It’s quiet again.

Too quiet.

Yesterday doesn’t feel real anymore, like something that only made sense while it was happening, and now that it’s over, all I’m left with are pieces that don’t fit together properly.

I press my lips together.

If I start hoping now... if I get this wrong...

There’s no one to blame but myself.