Chapter 7 Retention

I moved into a rental near the old campus.

Worried the Rosewood family might track me down, I splurged on a new lock. The place hadn't been occupied in ages—a faint musty smell hung in the air.

Once everything was sorted, my heart finally settled.

A flutter of excitement stirred in my chest. I had a home. Sure, it was just a cramped, slightly damp rental. But it was mine. Mine alone.

After some thought, I sent Nicholas a message briefly explaining I'd moved out. I waited a long time, but no response came.

"He's probably busy with work and hasn't seen it yet."

I muttered to myself. With work tomorrow, I went to bed early.

Once the real work started, my internship workload increased significantly. Every day I was run off my feet, yet I felt fulfilled and grounded inside. So much so that I had no idea Nicholas had even returned.

By the time I finished my work for the day, all my coworkers had long since left. After my usual overtime, I confirmed everyone was gone before shutting down the power, locking the doors and windows, and heading out.

Dusk was falling, streetlights flickering on one by one.

The moment I walked out of the office building, a conspicuous figure immediately caught my attention. A tall frame leaned against a car, cigarette smoke curling from his fingertips.

Nicholas.

What was he doing here?

I approached slowly, hesitating over whether to greet him. I didn't know how to explain the Clara situation. I had no idea what Nicholas really thought about it all.

Would he defend his fiancée? Or...

"Catherine, over here."

As I got closer, Nicholas called out first. He stubbed out his cigarette and straightened.

I walked over reluctantly. "When did you get back?"

"Today."

Nicholas answered quickly. "Why didn't you answer my calls?"

Some unidentifiable emotion threaded through his tone, a hint of grievance flickering across his features.

Only then did I belatedly pull out my phone to check. Twenty or thirty missed calls. All from "Nicholas."

Scanning the time intervals, I couldn't help but feel shocked. He'd been trying to reach me all day?

No wonder he'd shown up at the office after failing to find me for an entire day.

Understanding dawned. I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, work was pretty hectic today. I didn't notice my phone. Is something wrong?"

Clara's words still echoed in my mind as I kept things professional with my apology. While the innocent had nothing to fear, avoiding unnecessary trouble meant keeping some distance.

I didn't want Clara showing up at the office like Sabrina had. DI was accommodating, but they wouldn't tolerate employees repeatedly handling personal matters during work hours.

Nicholas's brow furrowed slightly. "Clara isn't my fiancée."

The statement came out of nowhere.

I looked up at him. "You came all this way to tell me that?"

Seemed like a bit of an overreaction. Whether she was or wasn't had nothing to do with me.

Yet in some unfathomable corner of my heart, an inexplicable feeling stirred. I quickly suppressed it. He was just my benefactor.

Nicholas couldn't understand my attitude. He continued explaining, "I know what happened at the house. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"Clara and I—it's just something our families joke about. I had no idea she'd take it seriously."

I raised an eyebrow, indicating he should continue.

"Catherine, where are you living now?"

"I'd really prefer if you moved back."

Understanding the full story, I smiled with relief. "It's fine. This isn't your fault."

As a woman myself, I understood Clara's actions. Besides, I'd been planning to move anyway. Clara's appearance had simply accelerated things.

I gave him my current address, adding, "Since I've already moved, I don't want to move again. Too much hassle."

I didn't have much, but the lease was signed. I didn't want to pay the penalty fee.

In the distance, a bus pulled toward the station—the one I needed to get home.

I said quickly, "Thanks for letting me stay all this time. You should find a new housekeeper."

"My bus is here. Gotta run. We'll talk later."

With that, I hurried onto the bus. Just made it. Missing this one would mean waiting another half hour.

I rode away.

Nicholas stood in place, his gaze following the bus as it disappeared into the distance. He murmured softly, "It's not a hassle. I could help you."

In a flash of insight, something flickered before Nicholas's eyes. Deep in his bones, he felt like he'd lost her again somehow.

I didn't look back. Didn't see Nicholas finally drive away much later, his figure dejected and forlorn—like a puppy abandoned by its owner.