Avery stared at the front door long after Wèi Yulan left, as though he could will her existence to vanish along with the echo of her arrogant voice.
He exhaled hard and reached for his phone.
The line barely rang before his father picked up.
"Finally. I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Mr. Cheng said in his usual calm, commanding tone.
"Why didn't you tell me anything?" Avery asked, voice tense. "Why the hell would you send her to my house?"
There was a beat of silence before his father replied, voice dripping with restrained irritation. "You're almost thirty, Avery. You've had enough time to figure your life out. The company is stabilizing, but your leadership lacks one crucial element—commitment. You act like your personal life is some side project, but to everyone watching, it's part of the business."
"I am committed to the company. To our deals. Isn't that enough?" Avery snapped.
"You know it's not," his father replied flatly. "Perception is power. The Wei family has remained patient, but that patience has limits. If you're not going to find a wife on your own, we will handle it for you."
Avery's hand clenched around the phone. "So you decided to handle it by shipping off some woman I haven't seen in years like she's a business proposal?"
"She is a proposal. One that will benefit both families," Mr. Cheng said sharply. "You've had years to find someone. Clearly, you've wasted them. We can't afford to wait anymore."
Avery didn't reply.
"You want to run Cheng Group? Then act like it. We've shielded you long enough. Now it's time to play your part," his father added coolly.
Without a word, Avery hung up.
There was no point in arguing, there never was. Once his father set his mind on something, nothing short of disaster could stop him. This was the kind of man who treated emotions as obstacles and relationships as leverage.
He stood in the quiet of the living room, jaw clenched, hands twitching. His father's words still rang in his ears, tainting everything. The smell of warm pancakes and fresh-cut fruit drifted from the dining room, but Avery no longer had an appetite.
He looked at the breakfast Noël had made and sighed. With a tight jaw, he packed it neatly into a lunchbox. The least he could do was not waste it.
Then, still tense and restless, he headed upstairs.
________
Noël's door was slightly ajar, but the atmosphere inside felt closed off. The light was on, curtains drawn halfway, and Noël sat on the edge of the bed, still in his soft home clothes. His head was low, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
Avery knocked once, gently. "Can I come in?"
Noël nodded without looking up. "It's your house."
Avery stepped inside but paused a few feet away, sensing the wall Noël had quietly built up between them.
"Did you eat?" Avery asked softly.
Noël shook his head. "Not really hungry."
Avery sat on the small chair near the bed, watching him in silence.
Noël's voice came quiet, almost careful. "She's your fiancée?"
Avery sighed, leaning forward. "She's not. Not really. It was arranged when we were teenagers. I never agreed to it. I thought I could walk away from it when I got older."
"She seemed confident." Noël's tone was flat, but his hands were still tightly clasped together in his lap.
"She's always been like that. But this isn't what I want''
Noël finally looked up. His eyes were unsure.
Avery's chest tightened.
" anyways I'm just a housekeeper," Noël continued, voice quiet. " None of this should concern me."
"Don't say that." Avery's voice was suddenly firm, almost angry. "You're not in the way."
Noël blinked, startled by the intensity.
Avery ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. "Look, I don't know what the hell my father thinks he's doing, but I'm not going along with it. I'm not marrying someone I don't love."
There was a small silence between them. Noël's eyes searched Avery's face, as though trying to decide whether or not to believe the weight behind those words.
Eventually, Noël nodded once and whispered, "Okay."
But Avery could still see the uncertainty in his eyes. The doubt that had been planted like a weed.
And it made him feel more helpless than ever.
Avery was already running late. His watch flashed 8:47 AM and he hadn't even touched his car keys. The morning had dragged into chaos. His father's call, Yulan's sudden appearance, Noël's quiet eyes that said everything he didn't say out loud. Now, he was supposed to head into the office and pretend none of it mattered.
He stood at the doorway to Noël's room, ready to give a quick goodbye, when Noël's voice softly stopped him.
"Avery?"
He paused, turned halfway. "Yeah?"
"You said… I could see Leo once I felt better," Noël said, hesitant but hopeful. "He's in town today."
Avery's brows furrowed slightly. "You still look sick."
Noël didn't respond immediately. His fingers picked at the blanket on his lap. "I just want some air. It's been a week, I haven't been out. I'm not going far. I just need to clear my head."
Avery stared at him. Something in his chest tightened in an unfamiliar way.
A week ago, Noël had barely been able to walk straight from the pain of his heat. Now, though pale and clearly still fatigued, he was asking to go outside. Not just for air, but to meet someone. Leo. That name again.
Avery's jaw tensed. "Why him?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Noël blinked. "What?"
"Why do you always ask about Leo when you're like this?" Avery's voice turned cooler than intended, though his face remained unreadable.
"I don't always—" Noël began, startled.
"You can do whatever you want," Avery cut in suddenly. "I don't care."
The silence that followed was crushing.
Noël's lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. He hadn't expected warmth but that felt like ice water down his spine.
Avery turned without another word and left, the door clicking shut behind him like a verdict.
_____
Noël sat there, frozen in place, a strange weight pulling at his chest.
He didn't even know why he had pushed so hard to go out. Maybe it was the need to breathe something other than air-conditioned silence. Maybe it was the walls that were starting to close in on him. Or maybe—maybe he wanted to test something.
He let out a shaky breath.
"Avery doesn't care."
Why did that hurt more than it should have?
He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, trying to shake off the chill. He did still feel sick. His legs were wobbly. His thoughts foggy. His scent still a little off, faintly sweet in the way that lingered after a heat.
But most of all, he felt conflicted.
When had this become so complicated?
Avery wasn't supposed to matter this much. He was supposed to be a boss. A cold, sharp, distant man who lived in his own world. But things had changed.
Ever since Avery said those words, I'll take responsibility. Noël had started thinking, wondering, hoping.
He thought they had something real. Something tender beneath the distance.
And yet now, all of it felt like it was cracking under the weight of misunderstanding.
Was he pushing Avery away by trying to keep his distance? Was Avery trying to hold on, only to be met with silence?
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
Maybe this is for the best, he thought bitterly. Maybe it was stupid to think I could mean more than just a housekeeper.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the way Avery had looked at him that night. Concerned, determined, protective. He couldn't forget the way he held him like porcelain, not like someone who didn't care.
Maybe Avery did care.
But maybe, just maybe… they were both too wounded to say it out loud.