December 7—Friday

For six days, Gael consistently accompanied Angela for her morning routine. And in the afternoons or evenings—whether she had gone to her training or just out with Nina, he would appear afterwards when she was about to go home—may it be early in the afternoon or late at night.

Gael would be there like her shadow whenever she stepped out of the building. Her best friend, Nina, asked her one time if that didn't creep her out as he was becoming a borderline stalker. But despite herself, Angela didn't think that way. In fact, she felt the opposite. She felt safe.

However, even though he had been around since he came back to Mayne City, he never once asked her to give him a chance to have a conversation with her again—until today.

While Angela took a breather at a bench in the park, Gael sat next to her, both of them panting and trying to steady their breathing.

He subtly held her elbow, causing her to turn his way. His touch was familiar against her skin, and she clenched her jaw as her heart raced even faster—a total opposite of what she was supposed to do to catch her breath.

She arched a brow in question and heard him ask, "Have dinner with me tonight."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I have a date," Angela answered honestly. If he was good at what he did, he should have already known by now that she went on dates on the weekends.

Gael's brows briefly crossed at her response. "Cancel it," he said in a firm tone.

A scoff escaped her lips upon hearing his words. At the moment, his bossy attitude made him appear overbearing, and she laughed to brush off the unwanted feeling that she didn't recognize. "It doesn't work like that, Mr. De Luca."

Things had changed. She thought that if he had come back earlier, maybe she would have given in—and still would regret it later. Did he think that just because he came back, everything would be okay?

"What can I do to make it work?" he asked.

"Nothing. My schedule is fixed until the end of the year. You'd have to wait in line if you want another minute to have a chat—which I think is impossible," she lied. Her schedule was flexible, but he didn't have to know that.

"I think you're lying."

'Of course, you do,' she thought, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Doesn't matter. I don't want to have a meal with you."

"Then, let's not eat. We'll just sit and talk," his smartass said.

Angela got up to her feet and headed out of the park. He followed after her like always, and she didn't turn to look at him when she responded, "Still. I can't stand sitting and talking to you."

Gael snorted. "You surely didn't look like it whenever you see me waiting for you outside your building."

She halted and glared at him, annoyed that he assumed what wasn't the case. It also annoyed her that he seemed to be friends with the doorman, Arthur, already. She caught them talking, chuckling, and high-fiving a few times that week when she was heading out of the building. How could that happen? She refused to believe that the older man had fallen for Gael's charms too.

"I just preferred to ignore you than punch you in the face every time I see you," she spat before walking away.

"I'd rather you punch me than ignore me," Gael muttered as he walked after her.

"I'm sure you would love that."

Her sarcasm was dry, yet it put a smile on his face for unknown reasons. Maybe he just enjoyed it when they bickered—or perhaps he missed her reaction whenever he got under her skin.

…

Random Restaurant

This cool and chic restaurant was an interesting choice for a first date. Rumors had it that this place literally had everything, and Angela wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

She started to think that if she would order a toothpick, they'd probably serve it on a saucer with a squirt of mayonnaise—random—just like the name of the restaurant. That probably won't happen, but her imagination was undoubtedly more interesting than tonight's date.

Lester, her date—for some reason—insisted on being called Raj. And 'Raj' was rude. He had been texting on his phone the entire time, and even complained and scolded the waiter for bringing a wrong order. It was a mistake on the waiter's part, but he didn't deserve a yell, which 'Raj' did. It was surely humiliating for Angela to sit at the same table with him.

She had been itching to end this date and leave him there, feeling that her bell sleeve sheath dress in rain forest green was a waste for this night. When she finally decided to do so, she got up and gave him a piece of her mind.

"Please delete my number and never call me." Angela grabbed her purse and placed a bill on the table to pay for her meal. "Also, kindness is free. You don't need a degree to show it."

Just as she stepped out of the restaurant, a certain someone chose to appear. Gael wore a black suit, looking his best as usual.

A headache was creeping up, and she couldn't wait to go home, but by the looks of it, her day hadn't ended yet.

"You still don't get it, do you?" she questioned as she began to walk on the side of the street in her heels. Her ride slowly followed behind her, the driver keeping a distance when he saw the same man from last week walking next to her. "I'm done talking to you."

"Well, I'm not. And I want to tell you something." Gael reached for her hand, his large one swallowing hers and wrapping it in warmth. "So will you please—"

Angela stopped in her tracks and swiftly turned to face him. The look on her face was a mixture of 'I'm done' and 'I'm hurt'. She had been holding it in, and she was doing well. But that night, something snapped, and she could no longer bear it.

"What?! What else could you possibly tell me that I don't already know?" She didn't raise her voice, but her hand trembled—her eyes reddened and became misty.

A heavy feeling sat in Gael's stomach when he saw her state. He stared at her as if he was in a trance—he didn't like the way she looked so sad and hurt. The extreme urge to embrace her coursed through him.

But before he could even speak, she had already spat, "Have you finally decided to tell me all about you? Who you are… What you really do?"

Angela saw the puzzled look on his face, but she didn't stop. "Because you don't have to. I already know what you are, Gael De Luca."

The moment she said those words, Gael felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured down on him. His hand that was holding hers loosened up and fell to his side. They stared at each other for God knows how long, and he was sure that they were thinking about the same thing.

"How long have you known?" he asked in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"Does it matter?" Angela responded in a toneless voice.

His expression turned unreadable as he dreaded to ask her the question that he had been wondering for a while. "Is that why you're pushing me away? Because you finally learned the truth?"

To his surprise, a soft laugh escaped her lips as if his question amused her. "If that's what you think, Gael, then you certainly don't know me at all."