Third Person's POV

The second time, Aiken was greeted by Hadwin helping Chelsea home.

"Ms. Chelsea, your house is so big," Hadwin had said, his tone full of admiration as his eyes swept the room.

Aiken had stepped forward and took Chelsea from Hadwin’s grasp. He was about to thank the young man when Chelsea cut in.

"If you like it, I can arrange something for you another day."

Aiken’s brows had furrowed, but he kept quiet. Meanwhile, Hadwin had shaken his head shyly, though his gaze lingered on Chelsea with something close to awe. "No need, Miss. Just take care of yourself and drink less."

Chelsea had chuckled softly, almost indulgently. “Alright, Hadwin. Next time, you can supervise me.”

Such a doting tone had immediately unsettled Aiken. He then had asked Hadwin to leave, then took care of Chelsea, helping her freshen up.

As he had ran his fingers through Chelsea’s soft, silky hair, he couldn’t shake the memory of the admiration in Hadwin’s eyes—a feeling he couldn’t hide.

'Chelsea, you’re sharp as a blade, you must’ve noticed it, too,' Aiken had thought.

Yet the next day, she had said nothing about Hadwin.

Chelsea was never the type to forget what happened after drinking, but at that time, she had claimed she couldn’t remember a thing.

Later, curiosity got the better of Aiken, and he had checked Hadwin’s social media. That’s when he had noticed that all those business connections Hadwin had been bragging about were people Chelsea had introduced him to.

Chelsea’s mother noticed his distraction and called to him softly. “Aiken, are you alright?”

Aiken shook off the heavy feelings weighing on him and handed her an envelope.

“Mom, here. This is for you. It’s $70,000.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately shook her head. “Oh, Aiken, you didn’t need to do this. Chelsea has already given us plenty.”

“Chelsea is Chelsea, and I’m me,” Aiken replied gently. “This is just a little something from me to you.”

Chelsea’s parents had always treated him well, never looking down on him despite Chelsea’s success. They had even supported his marriage to their daughter wholeheartedly. Now, with everything going on, Aiken had decided it was time to do right by them.

With a smile, he insisted on handing over the money. "Mom, please take it. Don’t make me worry."

“You sound like you’re about to leave for good,” she said, her tone a mix of concern and resignation. Still, she accepted the money when she saw how determined he was.

Unexpectedly, Chelsea walked in just then, carrying gift bags—and right behind her was Hadwin.

“Aiken, what are you doing here?” Chelsea’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and she hurried over to link her arm with his. “I got home earlier and didn’t see you.”

"That’s right. Ms. Chelsea was quite disappointed," Hadwin chimed in, his tone ambiguous.

Aiken forced a slight smile but said nothing. He withdrew his gaze from Hadwin and silently pulled his arm from Chelsea’s grasp.

Chelsea frowned, visibly unhappy with his reaction, and reached out to grab his hand again, but Hadwin’s words distracted her.

"Auntie, what’s that you’re holding? It looks like such a fancy envelope," Hadwin asked curiously, placing the gift bags aside to get a better look.

Aiken’s heart tightened. He wanted to change the subject, but Chelsea’s mother answered before he could.

"Aiken gave it to me."

"What's going on with you? Why are you giving Mom money out of nowhere?" Chelsea looked at Aiken inquisitively, sensing that something wasn’t right.

“The bank notified me about a deposit maturing, so I withdrew it,” Aiken explained, unwilling to make a scene here. He wanted to resolve things with Chelsea in private and end their relationship with dignity.

"Really?" Chelsea was skeptical, though unease began to creep into her heart. Recently, Aiken’s unusually quiet demeanor had been unsettling.

"Take it back," she said, unable to calm her growing irritation. Then, she grabbed the envelope from her mother and shoved it back into Aiken’s hands.

"I’ll transfer the money to you later, Mom," Chelsea said softly.

Aiken sighed quietly. It seemed he’d have to try again another time.

Third Person's POV

"Make sure you take these supplements," Chelsea's mother said warmly. She wasn’t one to fuss over money; all that mattered to her was her daughter’s success. Although, a soft sigh escaped her as if she carried a hint of regret. “The ones you and Hadwin brought last time, I haven’t even finished those yet.”

Aiken’s fingers froze mid-motion. He thought Chelsea hadn’t visited in a long time, but it turned out she had—just not with him.

A dull ache quickly rose in his chest, leaving him breathless. As he tried to steady his breath, he watched Chelsea’s mother reach out and clasp Hadwin’s hand like he was family.

“Hadwin, how old are you now?” she asked, her tone motherly and warm. “Do you have a partner? If not, do you want Auntie to introduce you to someone?”

Aiken noticed Chelsea’s face change at her mother’s words. She quickly turned her head and spoke nervously, “Mom! Why are you playing matchmaker like this?”

Hadwin, however, didn’t seem bothered. He just smiled faintly, almost shyly, as he answered, “No need, Auntie. I already like someone.”

His words left everyone momentarily stunned. But Aiken’s fists tightened. Not wanting to hear what Hadwin might say next, he immediately stood up and excused himself. "I’m not feeling well. I’ll head back first."

He couldn’t bear to stay and feel the weight of the humiliation any longer.

“But we still have dinner plans,” Chelsea reminded him, catching his arm as he brushed past her. Her expression then softened into something hopeful. “Remember? I’m making up for missing our anniversary dinner.”

'Anniversary dinner?' Aiken thought bitterly. Their anniversary had passed over two weeks ago. Yet, when he met her eyes, she looked so much like the woman he had fallen in love with—bright, expectant, and full of life.

Years ago, Aiken had promised her he would always make her feel cherished. Even now, with his heart heavy, he couldn’t bring himself to break that promise.

"Alright," he gave up, thinking it would be their final meal together. Once it was over, he would pull out the divorce papers hidden in the drawer.

Smiling faintly, Aiken reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. Chelsea closed her eyes, leaning into his hand with a contented sigh.

"Aiken, you always take such good care of me," Chelsea murmured.

The words cut him deeply. Chelsea had drained every last bit of love he had to give. He knew, without a doubt, that he would never love anyone again in this lifetime.

When the meal ended, Hadwin brought up the restaurant they were going to.

"The desserts there are amazing. Ms. Chelsea specifically looked into it," he said casually.

Aiken couldn't help but find Hadwin’s remarks both amusing and ironic, especially when Chelsea lightly held his hand and said, "I heard that too. I wonder if they're as good as people say."

With a small smile, she added softly, "If they are, we’ll come back next year."

'Didn’t you already come here with Hadwin?' he wanted to say but stayed silent.

When they arrived, Chelsea led Aiken out of the car, motioning for Hadwin to join them.

“Hadwin told me earlier there’s no one at his house tonight, so he wanted to join us for dinner,” Chelsea explained gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll let him have his own table so we won’t be disturbed.”

Aiken noticed that Chelsea was being cautious, trying to be considerate of Aiken’s emotions. But he wanted to tell her there was no need because whatever calmness he had left shattered at that moment.

“Let him sit with us,” Aiken said coldly. "It’ll save you both the trouble."

With that, he pulled his hand free from hers and walked ahead into the restaurant without looking back.

Chelsea froze as she stared dwon at her empty hand. Panic quickly welled up in her chest, so hurried after him, grabbing his hand again.

“Aiken, are you upset?” she asked anxiously. “If you are, I’ll ask Hadwin to leave.”

Aiken glanced at Hadwin, who stood nearby, his expression stiffening noticeably.

“It’s fine,” Hadwin said quietly, his voice carrying an air of wounded innocence. “You two enjoy your meal. I’ll just head home and have some instant noodles.”

Aiken scoffed internally. The young man’s tone practically dripped with self-pity, but Chelsea, of course, was quick to comfort him.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll order you something to take home,” she said, letting go of Aiken’s hand to fuss over Hadwin. “Your stomach’s weak. You can’t just eat junk.”

Hadwin nodded meekly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright. Thank you, Miss.”

He then glanced between them with an apologetic smile, though his words didn’t match the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry for intruding on you today.”

Third Person's POV

"Of course not," Chelsea quickly brushed off. Still, Hadwin stood to his word and would go home by himself.

Chelsea watched Hadwin get into the car with concern. Meanwhile, Aiken stood behind her with his shoulders slumped forward, as if the weight of the world had settled squarely on him. Emotional turmoil piling over, he felt his chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.

When Chelsea finally turned back, she caught the distant look on his face—one she barely recognized.

Aiken’s pale lips quivered as he forced a bitter smile. "So, this is what you like now, huh, Chelsea?"

Her brows furrowed, confusion washing over her. "What are you talking about?" she asked, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him like she could hold the conversation together. "Hadwin’s just a junior from school. I’m just looking out for him a little more than usual. That’s all."

'This much care?' Aiken bitterly thought.

Chelsea was known for being sharp, almost cold, with most people. She set high standards for everyone, even her closest employees. Aiken had never seen her extend this kind of gentleness to anyone but him—not until now.

Slowly, he untangled himself from her embrace, giving her a faint smile. "Forget it. Let’s go inside."

Sensing something off about Aiken, Chelsea grew anxious. She grabbed his hand again, her grip firm but pleading.

"You're the only one I love, Aiken. Please believe me," she said sincerely. Then, she pulled out an exquisitely wrapped box from her bag and smilingly opened it, revealing a delicate necklace. "Look. You said it was beautiful—something you wanted."

The necklace sparkled under the light, a silver gleam catching Aiken’s eyes. But he didn’t move to take it. Instead, he sat down across from Chelsea and said softly, "Chelsea, you’ve already given me this before."

The atmosphere instantly grew heavy. Aiken’s faint smile was distant and unreachable, making Chelsea panic.

"Sorry, I’ve been so busy I forgot," she said, reaching out to hold his wrist. "Then tell me what you want. Whatever it is, as long as I can, I’ll give it to you."

"I want—" Aiken trailed off as the waiter arrived, setting down the desserts.

Once the waiter left, Chelsea looked at him again and gently asked, "What is it again?"

Aiken didn’t want to ruin the meal by rushing the conversation, so he changed the subject.

"Nothing. Let’s talk about it later."

Chelsea’s smile returned, bright and full of hope. "Alright, then it’s a surprise!"

She gracefully cut into the small cake in front of her, scooping the first bite onto her fork and holding it out to Aiken. "Here, try this. It looks pretty and tastes just as good."

Aiken accepted the bite reluctantly and the sweetness hit his tongue. He had to admit—it was good, better than most desserts he’d had.

'Is this why Chelsea and Hadwin came here?' he wondered. 'Did she feed him like this too?'

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. He shook his head, but his pale face betrayed the turmoil inside him.

"What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?" Chelsea asked, concern filling her voice as she moved to sit closer to him. "Is the cake not good?"

He was about to answer, brushing it off, but before he could, her phone rang. Both of them glanced at the screen, where "Hadwin" flashed brightly in bold letters.

"I’ll just take this real quick," Chelsea said, letting go of Aiken’s hand. She picked up her phone and quickly walked outside.

Aiken stayed behind, clutching his stomach as a dull ache grew sharper by the second. The emotional strain was making it worse, turning the discomfort into something unbearable.

He reached for the glass of warm water by his plate, taking a slow sip, but it didn’t help. His medication was at home, far out of reach.

Dragging himself to his feet, he decided to find Chelsea and ask her to take him back. But as he reached the balcony, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Drink some water and lie down to rest," she said softly into the phone. Her tone was tender, gentle in a way that stung. "If you’ve got a fever, don’t try to cook."

After a pause, she spoke again. "You don’t have any medicine? I’ll grab some and bring it over."

Aiken leaned against the doorframe, every word cutting him deeper. He thought bitterly to himself, 'Maybe I should’ve passed out from the pain earlier or shouldn’t have come to this dinner in the first place.'

When Chelsea ended the call and came back inside, she found him standing there, pale and drenched in cold sweat.