Chapter 4

It wasn't until we'd been in the car for a long while that my head finally cleared. Jerome sat beside me in silence. I glanced over quietly. The left side of his face was a bit swollen. Feeling guilty, I rubbed my nose. "Are you… okay?" The man who'd been staring out the window turned his head all of a sudden, looking aggrieved. "No. My face hurts." Yeah. I'd hit him. I caught the driver's eyes widen out of the corner of my eye before he quickly looked back at the road, clearly trying not to watch. I had a feeling he had a lot to say. Jerome frowned and gently turned my face toward him. "Don't look at the front." "Okay." We held each other's gaze for a long moment before I broke the silence. "I'm sorry… I don't even know what came over me. I just snapped." There was sympathy in Jerome's eyes as he patted my head. "This one's actually on me. I remembered you really liked cinnamon rolls in high school, so I thought I'd bring you some when we met. I didn't expect it to trigger such a bad memory. "I just found out that jerk used cinnamon rolls to manipulate you into marrying him. I brought other food, too. Do you want to start with a croissant?" He said this croissant was his favorite back when he was in high school in Haytavia. He tried a bite and mentioned it tasted exactly the same. "Do you want to give it a try?" The driver seemed to understand. With one hand on the wheel, he handed the croissant from the passenger seat back to me. I opened the package. The smell of butter filled the air. I ate it slowly, finishing the whole thing, genuinely satisfied, before asking, "Where are we going?" Jerome rested his head on my shoulder, sounding a little tired. "My place, for now." I thought we'd arrive soon. I didn't expect the drive to last four full hours, crossing provincial lines straight to the heart of Silverlake City. Honestly, I hadn't traveled much outside my city since college. This city was completely different from Haytavia, its streets lined with tall, leafy trees that made everything feel alive. After spending the night in the guest room he'd prepared, I spoke up on my own. "Can you take me to see a therapist?" If I was really going to be with him, I couldn't keep hurting him over Hector. That wouldn't be fair. Jerome paused mid-motion as he served the pasta, looking almost in disbelief. "I was actually wondering how to bring it up. I was afraid you'd keep living trapped in all that pain." I was surprised. So there really were people who genuinely cared. … After we ate, he took me to a therapist he'd booked long ago. The doctor had a warm, gentle smile. "So, you're the one he's been booking appointments for over the past month, huh?" I blushed, a little confused. Jerome laughed and explained he hadn't known when he'd be bringing me, so he'd booked every available session. I whispered thanks, and he got up and left. Since I cooperated fully, the doctor said I had no serious psychological issues. As long as I avoided triggers and focused on positive experiences, I wouldn't mistake anyone again like that night. I thanked the doctor and walked out, waving at Jerome. "I'm fine now!" He strode toward me, then stopped himself short. I reached out first and hugged him. "Thank you." Jerome wasn't like Hector. He didn't choose to lock me away at home. Instead, he gave me the option to go out and work. Having been isolated from the world for so long, I honestly didn't know what to do, so he suggested, "How about being my assistant? I just happen to need one. I don't trust anyone else." I thought about it for a moment, then agreed without hesitation. … The next day, I started working with him. At my very first business dinner with him, I ran into one of Hector's friends, Alex Wington. He was so shocked when he saw me, he nearly dropped his glass. "Louisa, what are you doing here?"