Monna took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his waist and turn him to face her. She clung to his neck, her slender fingers teasing beneath his shirt, lips parting and brushing near his.
"Morrison has shown you kindness and recognition. If you give up on him so easily to be with , then you wouldn’t even deserve my trust for a lifeti. If you can abandon soone so important just like that, who’s to say you wouldn’t abandon for so other gain in the future?"
Norton was stunned by her words, and with her hands wandering so mischievously, his breath grew uneven. He raised a hand, gripping her wrist firmly, forcing himself to calm down as he spoke coldly,
"Speak clearly. No more little tricks."
Monna nestled closer, smiling seductively.
"Though your stubborn choice of Morrison hurt my pride a little, I love that serious, no-nonsense side of you!"
That single word—love—was enough to overwhelm everything.
Before Norton could respond, Monna lowered her head and boldly, passionately kissed him. His hands wrapped around her soft body, pressing her against his firm chest, returning her kiss with equal intensity.
Norton now fully understood her intention: using Morrison as a test of his loyalty and devotion. With the misunderstanding cleared, his heart couldn’t help but ache. This woman’s sches were far too clever—he couldn’t resist.
They clung to each other, lost in the mont. Monna’s dress was already disheveled, and Norton held her face in his hands, catching his breath.
"Weren’t we supposed to have hotpot?"
Her eyes were dreamy and enticing, fingers tracing his neck as she smiled.
"Eat first..."
Her teasing made his lower body tighten uncomfortably. His hand squeezed her gently.
"Not a bit modest, are you?"
Monna didn’t feel embarrassed in the slightest. She twirled the ends of her hair,
"I can’t be modest around you... I just want to hang onto you like this."
Her bold words made Norton laugh, shaking his head.
"I’ll go bring in the groceries first."
The bags of ingredients she had bought were still outside. If they started on each other now, who knew when it would end?
Finally, Monna reluctantly let him go. They reconciled completely, spending a beautiful night together.
Good food. Beautiful woman. A perfect night of love and intimacy.
After reconciling, Norton rembered that last ti he went ho, Sean had told his parents he had a girlfriend. His mother had even called once to nudge him. So, without hesitation, he told Monna he planned to take her ho to et his parents.
He was ready to spend the rest of his life with her; it didn’t matter when they t his parents—it was entirely up to her.
To his surprise, Monna happily agreed, which is how Friday beca their so-called "lucky day."
Morrison’s eyes darkened as he listened to Norton talk about the misunderstanding being resolved. He couldn’t help but ask,
"You’ve only been together for a few days, and you’re already deciding to spend your lives together? Aren’t you afraid of getting bored... or that she’ll get bored of you?"
That was Morrison’s most troubling question. Without this fear, he wouldn’t have broken up with Lilian.
"Yes... of course I’m afraid," Norton admitted candidly.
"But fear is no excuse to run away. Once you decide to be together, you have to work at it."
"Decide to be together... and work at it..."
Norton’s words hit Morrison like a dagger. His eyes darkened completely, and a flash of pain crossed his face. He turned his chair away, back to Norton, his voice heavy with defeat.
"I’ll approve the day off for Friday... congratulations."
Having worked with Morrison for years, Norton had never seen him so defeated and disheveled. He couldn’t help but worry.
"Boss... what’s wrong today?"
Morrison didn’t answer, only raised a hand dismissively, signaling him to leave.
Norton could do nothing but turn and walk away.
Once Norton left, Morrison sat in silence, lost in thought.
Norton’s words had been true—if you decide to be together, you work at it. Yet he had backed down before even trying...
Suddenly, he grabbed his phone, fingers trembling as he dialed Lilian’s number.
He didn’t know why he felt compelled to call her. Perhaps he wanted to say sorry.
But her phone was switched off. No matter how many tis he tried, he couldn’t get through.
He sat there, clutching the phone, staring blankly, unsure how long he’d been frozen like that, before finally snapping out of it and opening his computer to work.
Just as he was beginning to calm down, the finance manager called.
"Boss, little Washington didn’t co in today, and no one reported her absent. I tried calling her, but her phone is off. You’re close with her brother, right? So I thought maybe you could check in. What if sothing happened to her? Besides, there’s a pile of work waiting for her here."
Morrison rubbed his forehead.
"Let soone else handle her work for now. I’ll ask her later."
And with that, he hung up.
That was all he could say. He certainly couldn’t tell the finance manager that he’d broken up with her, and that she was too distraught to co to work today.
He already knew that from now on, she would probably never return to MOS Corp.
Picking up his phone again, he dialed her number—still switched off.
A strange panic gripped him.
All the data files and emails on his computer seed like empty shells. No—more accurately, after failing to reach her repeatedly, his mind had gone completely blank.
He wasn’t worried for her safety; with Bert and Dave watching over her, nothing would happen to her. What frightened him was the thought that she might truly disappear from his world—a girl so bright and beautiful, suddenly erased.
He was afraid she would permanently classify him as a stranger. The thought made him spring from his chair, snatch up his car keys, and rush out the door.
If he couldn’t reach her by phone, he could at least go to her apartnt.
He sped toward her place, rembering the key she had given him in a mont of trust, letting him co whenever he wanted.
But when he arrived, the apartnt was empty. Everything remained exactly as it had been when he left the night before—untouched, still bearing the faint traces of her presence.
The food had long since gone cold. The cake she had made herself sat quietly on the counter. The romantic candlelight had burned down to nothing. Everything before him felt desolate and bleak—eerily mirroring the state of his own heart.
She hadn’t co back.
And yet, he didn’t know why he had allowed himself to cling to that hope—that she might return, as if her presence here would an she still cared, that so part of her heart remained tied to this place.
But she didn’t co back.
Just as the corners of his mouth tightened in a bitter resignation and he was about to leave, the sound of a key turning in the lock rang out from the door.
His heart skipped a beat. He spun around sharply, eyes wide, brimming with unguarded anticipation.
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