There were only two reasons for Mildred and Haines to et: one was that Haines couldn’t talk about his dilemma with anyone except Mildred. And for Mildred, using Haines as an excuse for everything was very convenient. She would even use him as an excuse without actually eting him.
And today, they both needed each other.
"A night watching a movie while cuddling with a good wine... and then a kiss on the cheek at the end, it sounds very comforting,," Mildred chuckled, "Did your heart skip a beat?"
"Mildred."
"Haha!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Who would have thought? That we’d be having this sort of dilemma at our age?"
They both had to admit—they were too old to be dealing with matters of the heart. Yet here they were. One was stressing over an arrangent he had voluntarily agreed to, while the other... was in practically the sa situation.
"How is it a problem for you?" Haines asked, shifting the focus from himself to Mildred. "Didn’t you say she doesn’t have to know?"
Mildred nodded. "I did," she humd, tilting her head back as she gathered her thoughts. "However, I keep finding myself looking for excuses to et her. She’s a fun woman, and I’m certain the two of us would’ve been great friends had we t earlier."
"Friends?" Haines’s brows crinkled. "Or lovers?"
"She’s... she’s not — she’s straight," Mildred stressed. "Straighter than an ironed suit."
"I see." Haines rocked his head slightly. "I thought there was progress on your end, at least."
"If developing a stronger attraction to soone counts as progress, then I guess there is progress. But not that kind of progress, sadly." Mildred let out a heavy sigh. But unlike Haines, she was more open about her feelings. Perhaps if she had to keep it all to herself, she would be just as restrained as him.
But alas, having soone who knew her secret and didn’t judge her for it—soone she could speak freely with—was liberating. It gave her a sense of comfort, even though she knew her friendship with Miss Sandford would be just that. Nothing more.
"But we’re not talking about , Haines," she remarked. "We’re talking about you and that pit you dug yourself into."
Hearing that, Haines almost winced, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"So," she asked, watching him peek at her, "do you want to end it?"
"How do I end it without making it sound like I’m a jerk?"
Mildred laughed out loud. "The second you agreed to that arrangent for that reason, you beca the biggest jerk in this story."
"..." Haines huffed sharply. He knew she was right. But hearing it still felt like a slap to the face.
"Haines, why don’t you just try?" Mildred suggested. "Clearly, this young lady amuses you in so strange way. Maybe if you gave it a chance, you wouldn’t feel as guilty."
"Mildred, I’m very surprised to be hearing this."
She shrugged. "She doesn’t know that you agreed to this because of her condition. And this guilt you’re feeling is because you know she wouldn’t be happy if she found out. It’s fine as long as she doesn’t find out, but eventually, she’ll start questioning why you agreed in the first place—if you’re not open to it."
"She’ll think it’s my way of proving we won’t work."
"And clearly, you’re not proving anything." Mildred wiggled her brows. "If anything, you’re being torn between enjoying her company and convincing yourself that you two wouldn’t work. Haines, if you weren’t intrigued, I don’t think you’d keep showing up or entertaining her advances—even if only a little."
How ironic.
They were both struggling with similar dilemmas—but in entirely different ways. Mildred wished she had Haines’s problem, while Haines would rather suppress his attraction than be the one pursued.
"I understand," she continued before he could rebut. "She’s dying, and if you fall for her... you’d be devastated. I get that. But isn’t it worth trying?"
"You don’t understand."
"You’re right. Maybe, I don’t." Mildred shook her head. "Because the only secret I’m keeping is my preferences—not a ghost of my previous lover. However, in all my years, there’s one thing I know for certain."
She paused, locking eyes with him as she carefully chose her next words. "This young lady and that person... are two different people. Haines, stop focusing on the age gap or anything else. Instead, look at your heart."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "And if you’re still too stubborn, why not go to Penelope and confess this mistake? She might not be happy, but I’m very sure she’ll help." Mildred’s voice took on a knowing tone. "It’s up to you to decide."
Haines stared at her blankly, processing her words. But before he could respond, she added,
"Just look into your heart first."
"I did," he said at last, exhaling sharply. "And it tells to seek Penny’s help."
With that, Haines stood, giving her an approving nod. "If the Old Madam asks what we had for lunch, tell her we had salmon."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving Mildred to do whatever she pleased with the rest of her day.
She watched him go, shaking her head.
"That guy is in deep, deep trouble," she muttered before smiling. "Whoever this young lady is... she must be very special, to have cracked his impenetrable fortress."
A soft chuckle escaped her. Haines was falling into his own trap. From where she could see it, that young lady was winning.
Haines was just too stubborn to admit it.
But Mildred knew—Haines knew too.
He was aware of the small crack in the thick walls around his heart.
And cracks, given ti, crumble even the strongest of walls.
Which was precisely why he was panicking—why he was desperate to end the arrangent before it was too late.
Mildred exhaled, slowly turning her gaze away from where he had left.
"Now..." she mused, glancing at the table. "What excuse should I use to see her this ti?"
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