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“Rebecca, where are you?” Stanley's voice was urgent, the words coming out faster than usual. “Jeffrey’s had an

incident. Can you cto Jelasburg?”

Rebecca blinked, slightly stunned. “What happened to him?”

“He passed out. He's in the hospital now,” Stanley said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Rebecca's tense heart eased just a little.

For the past month, nobody had brought up Jeffrey around her, and he hadn't contacted her either.

The endless grind at work and the dinner parties she always had to wrangle her way through barely left her any

breathing room. So when she heard something had happened to him, her heart automatically tightened up

before she could even process it.

Maybe she just didn’t want Samuel's dad to get hurt.

Or maybe those five years had left feelings buried too deep to ever pull out.

“He’s been having a rough tlately,” Stanley said, standing outside the hospital room, watching Jeffrey

through the glass. Jeffrey looked gaunt and worn out. “Can you csee him?”

Rebecca paused for a moment. “I'm not a doctor.being there won't help.”

Stanley sounded more urgent. “How can you know that if you haven't even cby?”

Rebecca didn’t answer.

Stanley kept trying to convince her. “Just csee him, for how he’s treated you these past years. Stay until he

wakes up, then you can leave-is that okay?”

“Sorry,” Rebecca said, pushing down all the guilt in her chest. “I'm swamped here-I've got too much going on.

I'm hanging up now.”

“Rebecca, wait-" Stanley’s voice got lost mid-sentence as she pressed end, leaving nothing but silence on the

line.

Rebecca gripped her phone tightly, countless emotions battling inside her heart.

‘Stanley wouldn't have reached out unless things were truly bad,’ Rebecca thought. But just like she'd said—she

wasn't a doctor, and her showing up wouldn't change anything. Maybe it was better if their lives stayed separate

from now on.

“Mr. Garcia's calling again,” Mark reminded her quietly.

Rebecca looked down.

Her phone kept lighting up with Mr. Garcia's number.

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She lingered for a while before hanging up, then texted him: [Jeffrey and | have nothing to do with each other

anymore. If it’s about him, don’t reach out toagain.]

Stanley was so pissed he wanted to smash his phone.

He slammed his fist into the wall, his knuckles turning white.

“Ms. Jensen didn’t agree?” Gregory asked, glancing at Stanley's expression and putting the pieces together.

“Jeffrey bent over backwards for her all this time, and when it really counts, she just turns her back on him,”

Stanley grumbled. “I seriously didn’t expect her to be this ruthless.”

“Honestly, Mr. Hanson hurt Ms. Jensen way too much before,” Gregory replied, shaking his head. “Of course

she’d mind.”

Anyway, maybe it’s not about being ruthless-maybe she’s just afraid.

Afraid that if she sees Mr. Hanson like this, her heart would melt, she’d feel bad for him, and end up gettin pulled

back in.

“Yeah, Jeffrey really messed up with Andrea, no doubt about that, but it’s not like Rebecca’s completely innocent

either,” Stanley blurted out, the stress pushing him to speak harsher than he meant. “She was the only one he

ever cared for-when things blew up, did she try working through his issues? Nope. She went straight for divorce

papers. Makes you wonder how much she ever actually cared about him.”

Gregory didn’t say a word, just gave Stanley a long, steady look.

“A married couple is supposed to stick together through thick and thin,” Stanley pressed on, his tone rising. “She

was happy to share the good times, but when trouble hit, she just walked away.”

The more Stanley spoke, the more his frustration boiled over.

Most of this mess was Jeffrey's fault, but Rebecca couldn't exactly wash her hands of it either.

“If you want to solve something, you have to know what the problem is,” Gregory said, always the level- headed

one. “You know Mr. Hanson better than anyone.”

Jeffrey never let anyone see his wounds, and he would never show them just to earn anyone's pity or

attention.

He only wanted people to treat him well because of who he is now-not because of anything he’s been through

before.

And in that, Rebecca was spot-on.

She handled this part perfectly.

She respected, understood, and put up with Mr. Hanson more than anyone else. That's exactly why he saw her

as the only one fit to be his Mrs.

“Whatever, Rebecca's got her share of bltoo,” Stanley muttered, throwing his hands up in defeat.

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“You should go get srest,” Gregory suggested. “I'll stay with Mr. Hanson, and I'll let you know as soon as he

wakes up.”

“No, I'm staying right here,” Stanley said, determined.

If his wife wouldn't show up, then at least his best friend could stick by his side.

Seeing Stanley wasn't about to budge, Gregory didn’t argue further. While Jeffrey was still out cold, Gregory shot

Rebecca a text: [Ms. Jensen, you really don’t need to worry too much. Mr. Hanson is just worn out from not

getting enough sleep-it’s not as bad as Mr. Garcia made it sound.]

Rebecca replied back almost right away: [Okay.]

Gregory: Try to get srest yourself.]

Reading Gregory's message, as polite as always over the last five years, Rebecca pressed her pale lips together.

Rebecca started typing out a question: [Why did he pass out?]

For five years, Jeffrey’s health had always been perfect—his checkups spotless, and even busy nights and

overtnever slowed him down.

The word “fainted” just seemed completely out of character for him.

But she deleted the words almost immediately, and instead sent: [You too.]

Gregory's heart was a tangled mess of feelings.

Three little words-normally Rebecca could fire those off in three seconds flat, but this tshe took almost

twenty. Talk about hesitation.

“If there isn’t still something between those two, I'll eat my damn phone,” Gregory grumbled inwardly.

“Ms. Jensen, Mark called her-he only used that nin private; in public, she was always “boss.” “Are you

thinking of heading to the airport? | can book your ticket if you want.”

Rebecca: “No”

Mark eyed her frankly. “Your eyes say you do, though.”

Rebecca: “...

Mark added, “Just letknow if you need tickets. I'm always ready to fly out to Jelasburg for business.”

When Rebecca got hfrom work that evening, she just felt completely drained.

She'd hoped that landing her first project at last would mean she could finally catch up on sleep after a month of

endless hustle, but her insomnia didn’t let up. At two or three in the morning, her mind still refused to shut

off.

*

Early the next day *

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Rebecca finally crawled out of bed after seven.

She finally crawled out of bed after seven.

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When she cdownstairs, Amelia had already finished her morning workout and instantly picked up on

Rebecca’s mood. “Rough night? Couldn't sleep again?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Rebecca admitted without hesitation. With all the stress from the project, she'd been losing sleep,

not eating right, and even forced to drink at those business dinners-stuff her mom already knew about. There

was no point hiding it; she'd only make it more obvious.

“Something up?” Amelia asked.

“It's nothing big,” Rebecca replied, pouring herself a glass of water. “Just brainstorming how I'm gonna snag that

second project.”

The first one nearly woreout.

This next one? Probably a whole new level of headache.

Up till now everything's been smooth sailing-Michael’s team hasn't made any moves yet. But once they do, | bet

the whole mess gets way more complicated. | really need to have a backup plan ready before things go

sideways.

“No need to rush, just take your time,” Amelia reassured her, then added, “Stephen’s here. He's hanging out in

Samuel's music room-says he needs to talk to you.”

“What does he want with me?” Rebecca asked, sounding a bit distracted.

As soon as Rebecca spoke, her mind instantly flashed back to last night's phone call. ‘Is it about that?’ she

wondered, a subtle tension creeping in.

“No idea,” Amelia replied, noticing the change in Rebecca’s expression. “Why don’t you go check it out?”

“Alright, Rebecca said, putting down her glass and heading out.

It didn’t take long before she stepped into the music room, her gaze landing on the refined-looking man in a suit

and glasses who stood by the piano. “Mr. Hanson,” Rebecca called out.

H

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