He gave her a small smile. "If you come home with me, I don't want to have you worry about every single thing you are leaving undone. I don't want you stuck in guilt or whatever it is you are feeling right now. I need you to get up and take control. No more crying."

She shook her head adamantly. "I get it. I'll finish my work here before going back. Okay?"

"Okay. It's decided," he told her. "Now, will you feed me?" he asked.

She nodded readily and took her plate with her. She sat next to him as he turned back to the laptop and started to work. She didn't look at his screen but found herself wanting to say something.

"This is all the conversation we can handle for now. When you are done with work and we have both had some fresh air, we will talk about the rest, okay?"

He hummed. Now that he had unburdened everything, he could easily tell her everything on his mind. This seemed to be the one thing that kept holding them back. Now that it was all out in the open, he was sure they could communicate better.

It was close to nine at night when they finished their work. Qian Meng recognized that her emotional volatility made her hungrier, and Mo Qingchen never turned down an offer to eat good food.

"Are you done with work?" she asked tentatively after coming out of the bedroom. He looked up.

"Sorry. Just finishing up," he apologized quickly.

"No. It's okay. I'm the one who should apologize. I don't want to interrupt your work," she said.

"This is important," he said out of the blue. Qian Meng gave him a small smile, appreciating that spending time with her mattered to him. "You're important," he finished.

"You're being awfully mushy," she teased.

He nodded. "We need to get something to eat and some fresh air." He took his cellphone in his hand. "I'll just grab my wallet. We still have a lot to talk about, don't you think?"

She nodded and waited until he returned with his wallet. He extended his hand towards her, waiting. She took it readily.

They walked out of the room and found the bodyguard already waiting outside.

"You called him out?" Qian Meng whispered to her husband.

"Yeah. I texted him," he said with a guilty smile.

"We should treat him to good food. We're really making him work hard, aren't we?" she stated.

Mo Qingchen chuckled. They walked down the street, admiring the stores until they found one which they liked.

"Would you like to sit with us?" Qian Meng asked the bodyguard. His eyes flashed to the woman and he shook his head. "Oh, that's a shame," she said in a low voice.

The bodyguard was seated right beside their table, and Qian Meng found herself leaning forward to speak to Mo Qingchen. "I have never had a bodyguard before. Do they usually act so cold?" she asked.

Mo Qingchen nodded. "They don't like conversing with the people they are protecting apart from work-related issues. It gives them the distance required to do their job." He looked at her deeply. "I know you want to treat people well and equally, but some jobs require a complete cold-hearted approach. Bodyguards are that kind of people."

Qian Meng nodded in understanding. "Do you think he will mind if I pay for his meal, at least?" It was a naïve question to ask.

Mo Qingchen shook his head. "I don't know the answer to that. In my experience, they usually buy their own food. But if you insist on paying, they won't mind. Ask him what he prefers," he told her.

She looked down at the menu and was looking over it when the encounter with Bai Ye Qing popped into her head. Suddenly, she felt too distracted to give much thought to what she wanted to eat. Hanging out and having dinner together was something they thought about doing often, but they never really had the time to. They had just had a huge fight and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Had she been too soft after finding out how much he had suffered? Should she have been angrier at him for doing things behind her back?

"What's wrong? Do you not want to eat here?" he asked.

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked curiously.

She sighed and placed the menu down on the table. "I was so angry when you told me what you had done. I was ready to rip you a new one. And then I am sitting there, looking at you and…" she trailed off.

"And what?"

"And I'm not angry anymore." She groaned.

"You're upset because you want to be enraged?" he asked, raising his brow in question.

"No. Yes. But when you say it like it, I sound like a lunatic," she admitted.

"To be honest, I don't think I will ever understand you. But I like that," he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. "God. It's not about that. How do you say the most perfect thing one second and something completely wrong in the next?" she asked. "It's driving me crazy."

He stood up from his chair and walked around the table to her side. He put his hand on the armrest of her chair, turning it as if she was weightless so that she was facing the chair next to her.

He sat down and turned his chair in her direction and pulled her closer. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, close enough that their fingertips were barely touching.

"As long as we are talking about things, we have to accept that bad things will happen. I am going to mess up… probably a lot. And you'll mess up too. Let's be honest," he stopped and looked deeply into her eyes. "Neither of us have any significant experience with relationships."