Chapter 5

Raphael's hand on the doorknob froze. For the past six months, neither of them had mentioned Catherine's confession and her feelings for him again. Catherine had avoided bringing it up, fearing that it would upset him. Raphael, on the other hand, didn't want to deal with this troublesome situation at all. Upon hearing her mention her feelings again, his expression became grave. He turned to her and stared at her coldly. "Catherine, I've told you before—stop saying nonsense." That was it—that was how he chose to respond to her genuine feelings. Suddenly, Catherine wasn't afraid anymore. With reddened eyes, she met his gaze stubbornly. "You know very well I'm not speaking nonsense." She didn't understand. Why was her love for him something so disgraceful in his eyes? Was it because he was Baxter's friend? Could it be because he was 12 years older than her? Did it matter so much to him that in everyone else's eyes, he was like a father figure to her? But love was love. Loving him was ingrained in her very being. To give up on him would be akin to putting herself to death. "I love you, Raphael. No matter how many men you introduce me to, I'll still love you!" Catherine declared boldly. Each word she spoke hit every nerve Raphael had. The scowl on his face deepened, and his frown became even more prominent. He stared at her for a long time without saying a word, his entire presence radiating coldness. Then, he left without another word. … After that day, he never came to see her in the hospital again. When Catherine was finally discharged, she was greeted by even more blind dates. Her words that day had clearly had an effect, but the effect had been the opposite of what she'd hoped. Raphael began introducing her to potential partners more frequently. What used to be a once-a-week affair took place every two or three days now. And the blind dates were no longer limited to just men from the city. Suitable candidates from across the country were introduced to her. Meanwhile, Fiona had somehow gotten hold of Catherine's phone number and began messaging her daily. The messages were clearly meant to provoke her. She would send Catherine photos of her and Raphael on dates, the roses he'd sent her, and his shirt left at her place. At first, Catherine's heart ached, and she felt stifled afterward whenever she saw those photos. Nowadays, she had gotten numb to them. Nevertheless, Fiona continued sending her messages relentlessly. She wrote, "Catherine, do you see this? Raphael loves me so much." When Catherine was on her way to yet another blind date, she saw the message from Fiona flash across her screen. She glanced at it briefly, then locked her phone screen. Bitterly, she thought to herself that these two were truly a perfect match. One was pushing her to give up with photos, and the other was pressuring her with constant blind dates. The first time Raphael had forced Catherine to go on a blind date, she had put up a strong resistance. He had merely looked at her with frosty eyes and said, "You should know that I'm serious about this. If you don't go, you'll never get to see me again." He knew exactly how to threaten Catherine. From that moment on, she went on every blind date he arranged, even when she didn't want to. Upon arriving at the restaurant, Catherine sighed and stepped inside. This time, the potential suitor was someone her age and was quite handsome. Catherine was a beautiful young woman herself, so she caught the guy's interest right away. But perhaps it was due to her emotional turmoil or the lingering effects from almost drowning, but she felt dizzy as soon as she sat down. The chatter coming from across the table irritated her further. Soon, she couldn't take it anymore. Thus, she grabbed her bag and stood up abruptly. "Sorry. I'm not feeling well." However, she had gotten up too quickly. Before she could finish speaking, she fainted. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the shocked look on the guy's face. And then, to her disbelief—he ran off and left her behind. As her consciousness faded, she wondered bitterly if this was the kind of person Raphael expected would take care of her for the rest of her life. … Catherine had a dream. In the dream, someone was holding her in their arms while sighing helplessly. The person said, "What am I going to do with you?" The scent of the person was so familiar and comforting. It smelled like… her Uncle Raph. Catherine clung tightly to him, refusing to let go. For once, she didn't hold back. She wrapped herself around him and cried, "Can you please stop hating me, Raphael? Could you love me, even just a little?" The person didn't respond right away. But after a while, she faintly heard a faint whisper from him. "Okay."