Chapter 8

"You're a grown woman, and you still like scenes from teen dramas? The second it rains, you run straight into it?"

Felix's voice was light, tinged with gentle teasing—warm like the only point of light in a dark night.

Elena's face was wet and cold. She couldn't tell if it was rain or tears. He'd now seen her at her worst twice.

Felix tilted the umbrella toward her, most of it covering her head while half his shoulder was exposed to the rain. "Hold the umbrella. I'll get you a dry towel."

Elena nodded silently, her fingers gripping the handle. The cold metal pressed into her palm.

Past dinner hours, the restaurant had quieted down. A few servers stood at the front desk gossiping.

"I heard what happened in that private room… The woman at the door stole someone else's man to climb up. And her hands are ruined."

"What's the point of scheming? She still can't stop true love from winning. Some people just can't hold on to anything."

She was just a drowned rat. She was a server at an upscale restaurant—what was wrong with venting a little?

She dumped all her frustrations from being treated like a workhorse onto Elena, her voice deliberately loud.

At the door, Elena's hand slowly curled into a fist at her side. Rainwater seeped into her old injury. Her joints throbbed with pain. The cold cut to the bone.

"Excuse me." Felix walked up to the front desk.

The person at the register saw him and immediately put on a fawning smile. "Mr. Knight, is there something else you need?"

"A new towel, please."

His tone was courteous, his features warm and clear—the type most women would fall for at first sight.

The server who'd just mocked Elena immediately rushed over, smiling as she held out a towel. "Mr. Knight, here's your towel!"

Felix glanced down. He didn't take it. The atmosphere stilled for a moment.

"What's your name?"

The girl froze, hurriedly smoothing her hair, her cheeks flushing. "Amy. Amy Fisher."

"Got it."

He took a fresh towel from the counter, pulled out his phone, typed out a message, then turned and walked toward the umbrella outside.

The moment he stepped out of the restaurant, a panicked cry erupted behind him. "Why are you firing me?!!"

The shrill voice shattered in the rain.

Felix acted as if he hadn't heard the crying behind him. He walked calmly to the umbrella and held out the dry, soft towel. "Give me the umbrella. Dry yourself off first."

"Thank you, Felix."

A very soft sigh fell from above her head. Elena instinctively looked up and met his eyes. There was no contempt there. No pity. Only steady, gentle warmth.

"Elena, between you and me, those two words aren't necessary."

His car was parked not far away.

Felix brought her to the car and thoughtfully turned on the heat, adjusting the temperature to exactly 28 degrees—just enough to drive away the chill from the rain. He then took a bottle of water from the armrest compartment, gently twisted off the cap, and placed it beside her hand.

"There's one more thing. I was planning to give it to you later. But it looks like you need it now more than ever."

He retrieved a perfectly preserved letter from the car's storage compartment. The envelope style was identical to the one he'd given her that morning.

Another letter from her teacher.

Elena's breath caught sharply. All the panic and dishevelment on her face quietly faded. Her expression gradually grew solemn and reverent.

"Elena, our teacher once asked if you'd be willing to study abroad. You said you wanted to."

Felix gently placed the envelope in her trembling palm. "This is a letter of recommendation our teacher wrote herself. She kept it all along and only gave it to me before she passed."

He looked at her, his voice soft but steady. "She said she paved two paths for you. These paths aren't mutually exclusive, and you don't have to choose just one. As long as you're willing, you can walk them anytime."

Elena's eyes instantly turned red.

Her hands trembled. Her fingertips could barely hold the thin envelope, yet she was afraid of gripping too hard and damaging her teacher's final gift.

Through the envelope, the letter felt warm to the touch—like her teacher gently patting the back of her hand.

Felix didn't rush her. He just waited quietly. When her emotions had settled slightly, he spoke slowly. "There's plenty of time. You don't have to decide right away. Think it through, then let me know."

His tone was sincere. "We're fellow students. Whichever path you choose, I'll stand by you."

Elena bit her lip lightly. Gratitude flooded her throat. Just as she was about to speak, she caught Felix's gently warning gaze. The thanks on her lips were swallowed back down. She just lowered her head and nodded over and over.

She carefully tucked the heavy letter of recommendation into the inner pocket of her bag. Her emotions were as tangled as the rain outside the window.

She didn't think about what would happen to her marriage with Kian—already a shell—if she picked up her brush again and chased her old dreams.

More than anything, she felt sad that with so little time left, she had so much to do. But it seemed like there just wasn't enough time.

Thinking of her teacher's unfinished work, thinking of the tiny life quietly growing inside her… she suddenly realized that these five years as the obedient Mrs. Lancaster had left her with absolutely nothing.

She'd spent her most precious years trapping herself in a gilded cage, waiting foolishly for a man who'd never had room for her in his heart. Absurd and tragic.

"Do you want to go home? I'll take you." Felix's voice gently broke the silence.

Elena's chest tightened. That cold, bone-chilling villa—she didn't want to go back at all. But where else could she go in this unfamiliar city?

In the chaos of her thoughts, only one person came to mind.

"Felix, could you… take me to my friend's place?"

Felix nodded without asking any questions. He smoothly turned the steering wheel, and the car slowly drove into the torrential rain, leaving the mess far behind.

No one noticed the black Rolls-Royce that had been following them the entire time. The car moved abnormally slowly, its presence suffocating. Other vehicles instinctively kept their distance, afraid that one careless moment would end in disaster.

At an intersection, the Rolls-Royce split off and went a different direction.

On a quiet side street, another luxury car sat with its engine off, hazard lights blinking on and off in the rainy night.

The window was half-open. A hand with distinct knuckles rested quietly on the sill, a half-smoked cigarette held between the fingers. White smoke curled upward, mingling with the cold wind and rain, wrapping around a strikingly handsome profile.

Mason stubbed out the half-cigarette. The ash was swept away by the night wind. He watched the taillights disappear into the rain and shook his head with self-mockery. "Doesn't say a word, but his feet are honest. He still can't let her go, can he?"

Earlier, when Chloe had said she wasn't feeling well, Kian had immediately called Ryan, intending for him to pick up Elena. But Ryan had an emergency and couldn't make it.

After dropping Chloe off at the hospital and confirming she was fine, Kian had been completely distracted. Without waiting for the doctor to finish the instructions, he'd left in a hurry.

Mason narrowed his eyes, lightly tapping his fingertips on the window frame, watching the car that had long since vanished into the night. "Looks like Kian's not such a cold stone after all."

He paused, his voice dropping and mixing into the wind and rain. "It's just a shame… he's always one step too late."