Third Person's POV
"Don't be mad. We're really just friends," Catherine said with a helpless smile.
"Where's the pure friendship among adults? Don't you know?" Blake really wanted to properly "teach this stubborn little woman a lesson."
She let out a soft sigh. "I know he still has feelings for me, which is why I wanted to set things straight. I've married you, and my heart belongs only to you. I can't reciprocate his feelings."
She gently stroked his face, her tone laced with guilt.
"So you plan to play the savior?" Blake was still not appeased.
"Harley hasn't had it easy. His family has left too many wounds. Between us, it's more like a familial bond. I just want to help him move on," Catherine said, maintaining eye contact.
"For years, he's lived in the past. I want him to see the present me—a married woman. Maybe this way, he can truly let go," she added.
Blake narrowed his deep eyes, locking onto hers for a full minute.
Catherine's heart pounded like a drum, yet her face gradually turned pale.
She realized her words might have been too hasty—what she saw as kindness might appear to Blake as emotional betrayal.
"I was just thinking out loud. If you're not comfortable with it, I won't see him again," she conceded, her nerves getting the better of her. Doubt crept in—had this been a wise decision?
Blake observed the subtle shifts in her expression, then suddenly pinched her cheek gently. "I didn't say I was against it. If you think it's meaningful and can help him, I trust you."
"Really?" Catherine was taken aback. Given Blake's typically domineering and jealous nature, she had braced for strong opposition.
"Mm. I've had Harley monitored for a while. He's a man of discretion. If your approach works, give it a try—I don't want other men lusting after you forever. It gives me quite the complex," Blake said with a faint smile, tousling her hair again. "Don't think me so petty."
"Blake, thank you so much!" Catherine threw herself into his arms.
Blake gently kissed her forehead. "If you really want to thank me, perhaps there's another way?"
Catherine caught his implication immediately, her cheeks flushing as she stepped back. "Go take a shower now!"
Seeing her shy demeanor, Blake was already consumed with desire.
No matter the chaos outside, once home and with her, all he wanted was to be alone with her—this sense of peace was irreplaceable.
Meanwhile, Jessica drove to Cedrick's private apartment.
She took the elevator straight to the top floor, unlocked the door, and found the interior plunged into darkness—a relief to her.
"Who were you dining with tonight?" Cedrick's deep voice cut through the darkness.
"Ah!" Jessica clutched her chest in fright, hurriedly switching on the lights to reveal Cedrick seated on the sofa, as if he had just woken from a nap.
"Why isn't the light on?" she grumbled, approaching him.
Though Cedrick looked exhausted, his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. "Answer my question."
Jessica let out a dry laugh. "Are you suspicious of me? I just had dinner with Catherine."
"Is that so?" Cedrick narrowed his eyes, his penetrating gaze making her uneasy.
Under his scrutiny, Jessica reluctantly confessed, "Alright, I'll be honest—I had dinner with Harley and Catherine."
"Your rumored relationship with Harley is all over the place, yet you still meet privately?" Cedrick had watched today's press conference; the pointed questions had already irritated him.
"I... I have my reasons. Can't I keep them to myself?" Jessica glanced at him pleadingly.
"What reasons can't you share with me?" Cedrick reached out to her.
She softly leaned into his embrace. After much hesitation, she decided to keep the secret.
It concerned Catherine's reputation. Even though the three of them had clear consciences, if word got out about their private meeting, it would undoubtedly be misunderstood.
"Stop asking. I swear on my honor I've done nothing to hurt you!" She raised her hand earnestly.
Cedrick knew better than to push further. The longer he was with her, the more he discovered that her clear eyes could melt even the hardest heart.
"Remember what you've said," he warned, but dropped the matter.
Jessica immediately brightened and stood up. "Have you eaten?"
"No," Cedrick replied, also rising.
"When did you get back? Why not eat first?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Just got home. Work's been hectic lately." He opened the fridge and frowned. "No ingredients left."
"Shall we eat out then?"
"Let's go to the supermarket and grab something to cook at home," Cedrick suggested.
Time was precious to him; after a busy day, he preferred to stay in and spend time with her rather than travel far.
"Okay!" Jessica put on a mask and linked arms with him as they left.
Passing by the community garden, a small ball rolled to Cedrick's feet.
He bent down to pick it up, and a little boy toddled over, his voice high-pitched and cute, "Uncle, that's my ball!"
Cedrick smiled and handed it over.
The boy, however, shrank back instinctively— Cedrick's natural aura of intensity intimidated him. Once the ball was secured, the child darted away.
"Look at you, scaring the poor kid like that!" Jessica stifled a laugh.
Cedrick shrugged helplessly. "I didn't do anything. Why's he scared?"
"Because you look too serious!" she teased.
"Serious? I'm being friendly!" He was at a loss for words.
"No idea if our future kids will be scared of you too," Jessica mused aloud.