Chapter 9
Oliver’s arms wrapped around me, steady and warm, as he whispered, his voice low and reassuring in my ear. “It’s okay. Everyone has loved one or two jerks in their younger days. Don’t worry; I won’t judge you.”
His words, soft yet teasing, felt like a balm to my lingering self–doubt and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
“Oh, really?” I responded, raising an eyebrow and giving him a playful pinch in the side. “So, tell me, Oliver–have you ever been in love with any ‘jerks‘ yourself?”
Oliver’s face turned serious in an instant, his dark eyes sparkling with humor. “Nope. I’m a pure soul–I’ve only ever loved you.”
I laughed, knowing he was half–joking, but his sincerity still caught me off guard. My cheeks grew warm as I met his gaze
feeling an unexpected shyness.
gaze,
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Instead of probing further, I wrapped my arms around his neck, rising onto my toes
to close the distance between us. As our lips met, everything else faded–the tension, the memories, even the remnants of my encounter with Leon. All that mattered was this moment, wrapped up in
Oliver’s embrace.
A few days later, Oliver announced our marriage to his family and the news was met with heartfelt congratulations. His father, normally reserved, posted a lengthy message in the family group chat, recounting his pride in Oliver’s choice and warmly welcoming me to the family.
At the end of his message was a photo of Oliver’s grandfather, a small, wiry man with a stern but kind face, sitting at the breakfast table with an extra plate of pancakes. “Ollie, everyone’s thrilled about you and Emily! Even your grandpa ate an extra plate this morning!”
The image warmed my heart and for the
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first time, I felt like I belonged, like I was truly part of something that went back generations.
Our families were deeply entwined–their history stretching back to our
grandfathers, who had worked together to build their businesses. Even today, our families lived close to one another in the same neighborhood abroad.
Looking back, I wondered if this joyful scene could have happened much sooner if I hadn’t spent those years supporting Leon, sacrificing opportunities with my own family.
Now, with Oliver beside me, my family was adamant they wouldn’t let me continue to struggle. My mother called nearly every day, her voice gently persuasive. “Emily,” she would say, “why don’t you have Oliver help you wrap up things there and come back? Your father isn’t getting any younger and you’re the only child. It’s time you started getting involved in family matters.”
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今回
Chapter 9
first time, I felt like I belonged, like I was
truly part of something that went back generations.
Our families were deeply entwined–their history stretching back to our
grandfathers, who had worked together to build their businesses. Even today, our families lived close to one another in the same neighborhood abroad.
Looking back, I wondered if this joyful scene could have happened much sooner if I hadn’t spent those years supporting Leon, sacrificing opportunities with my own family.
Now, with Oliver beside me, my family was adamant they wouldn’t let me continue to struggle. My mother called nearly every day, her voice gently persuasive. “Emily,” she would say, “why don’t you have Oliver help you wrap up things there and come back? Your father isn’t getting any younger and you’re the only child. It’s time started getting involved in family matters.”
you
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I knew she was right. At last, I promised her that once I finished up my
commitments in Greenwoods, I’d return and take on my responsibilities back home. Life felt settled, as if the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Yet, just when I thought peace was within reach, everything took an unexpected turn.
The day before I was set to hand over my responsibilities, Oliver and I were still asleep when my phone began buzzing incessantly. Disoriented, I blinked at the screen, squinting against the light. Wanda, my friend and colleague, was calling repeatedly. She rarely called so early, so I answered, alarm creeping into my voice.
“Emily,” Wanda’s voice trembled, her words. spilling out in a rush, “check your phone now. There’s been a scandal. You’re all over
the news.”
My heart sank. I hung up and scrolled through my notifications, my hands. trembling as I opened the top trending
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headline: [Gray Family Scion Accused of Being a Homewrecker! How Shameless!]
My stomach twisted as I read the article and my fingers hovered over the accompanying photo. It was a shot of Oliver holding me from that night Leon barged in–a private moment, distorted into something ugly for public
consumption. Worse, the comment section was a storm of vitriol:
[Doesn’t the Gray Family pride itself on integrity? How did they raise such a son?]
[The Gray Family’s business has stood strong for almost a century–guess the third generation will be the downfall.]
A few lone voices attempted to call for calm, suggesting people wait for the full story, but their voices were lost in the tide. of accusations and insults. I felt my pulse race, a bitter, anxious energy rising in my
chest.
Unlike my family’s quieter business
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operations, the Gray Family’s brand was public facing, polished and high profile. Reputation wasn’t just important to them; it was foundational.
