Chapter 2

Harris stiffened, then demanded in a low voice, "What did you just say?" Vanessa looked up to meet his gaze. His features were impeccably chiseled, and he excluded an air of aloofness. Clad in a white button-up shirt and tailored black slacks, he appeared to be heading out. She looked down again and responded, "Do you have a moment? I've called Mom and Dad as well. There's something I want to tell you all." Harris hesitated briefly before glancing at the phone lighting up in his hand. He replied curtly, "I'm heading out to pick up Waverly. If it's not urgent, we'll talk later." Without sparing her another glance, he turned and walked away. Vanessa watched his retreating figure until it disappeared. Then, she quietly entered the house. By the time she changed her clothes, Thomas Samson and Katrina Marsh were seated on the living room couch. "Vanessa, why did you ask us to come over so late? Is something wrong?" Vanessa perched beside Katrina and flashed a polite smile. "Mom, Dad, I wanted to let you know that I've decided to get married to Blake." Thomas and Katrina exchanged surprised glances. "Blake? Harris' best friend?" Vanessa nodded. "Yes. He's liked me for a long time." Though taken aback by the sudden announcement, as her adoptive parents, Thomas and Katrina didn't press her for details. They knew Blake well and trusted his character, so they saw no reason to object. It went as Vanessa had expected. Katrina even held her hand and asked if she had set a date yet. She said with a nod, "The same day as Harris' wedding." Both Thomas and Katina seemed satisfied. "That works perfectly. It'll be a double celebration! We can even hold both ceremonies at the same venue. Have you told Harris yet? He's doted on you since you were little. I wonder how he'll take it." Vanessa thought of Harris' indifference earlier and shook her head. "I haven't told him. He'll find out soon enough." After that, Thomas and Katrina reminded her to rest early before departing for the night. Vanessa returned to her room and gathered the stack of sketches she had drawn of Harris over the years. She carried them to the backyard, placed them in a metal firepit, and fed them to the flames one by one. Just then, her phone buzzed. Seeing Blake's name on the screen, Vanessa hesitated before answering. Blake's steady breathing filled the line, almost tangible through the silence. When she said nothing, his gentle voice broke through. "Vanessa, my mom told me you agreed to marry me. I'm overseas right now, but I'll return soon. I'll handle everything for the wedding—the theme, the dress, the rings. Tell me what you like." This marriage wasn't born of love, at least not on her end. It was a decision made under duress. Harris' relentless push to sever her feelings would eventually lead to him arranging a string of blind dates for her. Vanessa thought that a man who loved her would be better than any stranger if she had to marry someone. Blake was her best option. Thus, her voice carried a tinge of guilt. "You can decide." Blake chuckled softly. "Alright. I'll make the arrangements. Just rest easy. No matter what, you'll always have me." His words pulled Vanessa back to their childhood. Blake had always liked to bribe her with candy so that she would call him her brother. And each time, Harris would snatch the candy away and sternly insist, "I'm the only one who gets to be your brother." Yet Blake was relentless. He had always been indifferent to most things, but teasing her seemed to be his one exception. Back then, she hadn't noticed his intentions. And even now, she wasn't entirely sure. Vanessa recalled what Rose had told her and asked with subtle probing, "Blake, your mom said you've liked me for a long time. Is that true?" "Yes," admitted Blake. Vanessa stared at the charred remnants of the papers in the firepit, unsure how to respond. Before she could find the words, Blake continued, "Vanessa, although our engagement was rushed, I'll give you everything you deserve. After the wedding, I'll transfer 80% of my shares to your name." Vanessa was shocked. Just as she was about to speak, a voice sounded from behind her. "What wedding?" Vanessa spun around to find Harris approaching. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly ended the call. "Nothing. I was just talking to a friend." Harris' eyes flicked to the firepit. Among the ashes, a partially burned sketch caught his attention. He bent down, picked it up, and froze upon finding it was one of her drawings of him. His heart dropped, and his grip on the piece of paper tightened. "Why are you burning these?" Vanessa was typing on her phone. She paused briefly before responding with detachment, "You told me they were shameful. I'm simply getting rid of them." Harris' hand tensed. Before he could say more, Vanessa brushed past him and headed back inside. Looking at her frail figure from behind, he suddenly recalled the day he'd ordered her to throw away everything related to him, harshly declaring that they were shameful secrets. Vanessa had held back her tears and argued stubbornly, "Why should I? What's so shameful about liking you? We're not even related by blood. If you feel the same, I'd fight the whole world for you!" The memory clashed with the calm indifference of the woman walking away now, leaving Harris dazed and rooted to the spot for a long while.