Rift in the perfect picture

I could only trust half of what Nicholas said. Back when Mom went abroad for treatment, those people called me countless times every day.

When I officially took over Jones Corporation, they didn’t bother to hide their ambitions.

At that time, I had no intention of running the company long–term, so I didn’t pay much attention. It was Nicholas who made me start to care about power. It was also he who gave me power.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I sighed, regretting ever believing in him and giving him the chance to hurt me.

However, Nicholas thought I was scared. His cold expression softened. He took my hand and walked with me while saying, “You don’t have to be afraid. As long as you stay by my side, I won’t let them hurt you, so you would better not make me angry.”

Before everything was clear, I couldn’t afford to fall out with him. Tabitha’s situation was already unique. I couldn’t take any risks.

Nicholas led me into the dressing room, holding my hand as he touched each neatly arranged shirt. He asked my opinion in a very good mood, “Does this gray one look good? Or is the white one with gold trim better?”

It seemed as if there were barbs on the shoulders of those shirts. Even the slightest touch burned my fingers.

Next to each shirt hung a matching, mature–looking dress, mostly satin gowns. I didn’t need to look closely to know whose style it was.

I broke down at that moment. It felt like someone had meticulously maintained our life over the past three years without my knowledge. But this wasn’t romantic or touching. It was terrifying.

I couldn’t accept that Nicholas imagined me wearing those dresses every time he picked a shirt. That was too horrifying.

“Nicholas, are you really better?”

If not, he should see a doctor again. After just two days back in the country, he had already acted strangely, doing things he never would have before.

Nicholas pulled me over to the mirror, holding a white satin dress with gold trim against me without saying a word.

He had recovered, but he had also created a fictional married life for himself. The entire Coral Villa was a product of his careful creation. Sometimes he knew he was lost in a fantasy, yet he chose to sink deeper.

I never experienced his pain, so I wouldn’t understand. That suffering left him with no choice.

To me, his calmness felt disturbingly crazy. I couldn’t stand it, so I swatted the clothes from his hands and looked at him through the mirror.

The white dress fell to the floor like a natural reflector, enhancing the clear lines of his muscles.

From his chiseled abs to the mysterious trail leading down to his black trousers, combined with his increasingly perfect face, he hardly looked like a patient at all.

I observed him, noting that his current state was starkly different from my memories of his broken, languid self.

N

Nicholas didn’t get angry. He bent down to pick up the dress and tossed it into the laundry basket, casually pulling on a matching men’s shirt.

a

He didn’t button it or show any intention of answering me. Just when I thought he wouldn’t speak again, he suddenly turned to me.

“What if I’ve not recovered? Will you leave me again?”