Not long after Dallas left, the ringing beside the pillow startled Averi.
She had been afraid of missing Jordan's call if she fell asleep, so she had set the ringtone to its loudest, not expecting it to be so loud.
The caller was not Jordan, but Milo.
"Hello."
"It's me," Milo asked, "I heard you're sick?"
"Yeah, I'm not feeling too well."
Milo thought, for her to take leave from work, it must be more than just "a bit unwell." So he asked, "Have you seen a doctor? Should I take you to the hospital?"
"Thanks, no need. I saw one a couple of days ago; it's nothing serious," Averi asked in a businesslike tone, "Is there something you need?"
"Not really anything important," he paused briefly before asking, "Is there anything you'd like to eat? I can bring it over."
"No, that's okay. I don't feel like eating right now."
"Alright, then get plenty of rest."
"Thanks."
After hanging up, Milo sat in his car for a while before getting out with the plastic bag from the passenger seat.
He was actually right outside Averi's residential complex. He only found out she was sick when he called the office looking for her today. When he casually asked, "Is she at home?" Jordan's vague response caught his attention.
How could Jordan outsmart him? In a slip of the tongue, he revealed the general location, just the name of the complex without a specific apartment number. Realizing his mistake, Jordan became instantly wary and refused to divulge any more information.
On a whim, he picked up some easy-to-digest American comfort food, like chicken noodle soup and apple pie, and brought it over. As he drove nearby, remembering she didn't want people to know about this private space, he called to gauge her reaction, not mentioning he was already close by.
He was flatly turned down.
Milo shook his head with a sigh and a smile, tossing the entire bag of food straight into the trash.
She was like a cunning fox with multiple dens. she had plenty of places of her own, some of which she kept secret from him, and he could understand that. He had plenty of places of his own too, some of which she didn't know about. It wasn't that he intentionally kept them from her—there was no need for secrecy. She wasn't the type to make surprise visits, and the reason he hadn't mentioned them was simply because she had never asked.
He wasn't the type of man who would hand over his phone password or bank card. If she didn't ask, he wouldn't mention it.
Milo had never really chased women throughout his life; most of the time, women came to him. What chasing entailed was merely striking up a conversation or sending flowers, which were usually bought by his assistants.
Bringing her food today was already out of character for him. Anything beyond that, he couldn't do—and frankly, he wasn't interested in learning how.
After disposing of the items, he stood by the trash bin, smoking and watching people come and go at the entrance of the complex, wondering what her place might look like.
His thoughts drifted further and further away, recalling the first time they spoke.
It was he who initiated the conversation. Before that, he had seen her several times. Back then, she had just graduated, and Christopher hadn't yet married Mareli. Whenever an event required a female companion, Christopher would bring her along, speaking proudly of his accomplished daughter.
Later, it was at some chairman's silver wedding anniversary where his craving hit, and he sneaked off to the balcony for a smoke, only to find her there too.
He pulled out a cigarette and handed it to her. "Want one?"
She glanced at it before smiling and shaking her head, "Thank you, no."
That look clearly indicated she wanted to smoke.
He asked her, "Aren't you tired?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
She smiled indifferently and replied, "Isn't life all about enduring hardships?"
One sentence flipped the situation and choked him.
Reflecting on the past, time flies by, and before he knew it, a cigarette was already finished. Milo stubbed out his cigarette and started walking toward his car. Before leaving, he glanced up at the entrance to the apartment complex across the street and spotted a tall man with a crew cut.
He vaguely felt that the man looked familiar, but did not pay much attention to it.
After passing through several traffic lights, he suddenly remembered that he had indeed seen the man before. When Beatrice talked about the time Averi messed with her, she mentioned that the guy was there too. He seemed to be Beatrice's bodyguard and had stepped in that day, taking the drink meant for Averi.
In a flash, Milo seemed to realize something, a fleeting thought that made no sense, neither reasonable nor emotional, impossible to believe, yet he couldn't help but think about it.
"Beep———"
The sharp sound of a car horn interrupted his thoughts; looking up, he saw that the light had long turned green.
Milo stepped on the gas and sped away.
Forget it, could he really turn back in such an unfounded suspicion to search her apartment? He couldn't bring himself to do such a degrading thing.
Due to his professional sensitivity, Dallas paid close attention to everyone he had met or heard about. Thus, even though he only saw Milo's back, he recognized him to some extent, but since he didn't see his face, he couldn't be certain.
Especially after returning to the apartment, she was still lying in bed, and the shoes by the door were just as they were when he left, showing no signs of anyone having been there.
Unaware of their chance encounter, Averi's eyes lit up when she saw the takeaway box in Dallas's hands.
Who would have thought that Dallas ordered a non-spicy dish for her and immediately rinsed it with purified water upon returning.
Averi looked at the plate of buffalo wings—healthy, mild, and lacking the bold flavors she craved. Her expression was puzzled, but she had nothing to say.
What could she do about the food she ordered herself? It was her fault for underestimating Dallas.
How come she hadn't noticed how difficult he could be before?
After dinner, Averi didn't mention making him leave again, and Dallas didn't initiate any conversation either. The question of him staying or leaving was like the elephant in the room—something neither of them wanted to acknowledge, so they both pretended it wasn't there.
Another unspoken void was Milo, a topic that lingered between them but remained untouched.
At night, the two fell asleep hugging each other, Averi rested quietly in his arms, without any hint of sparking things up.
Her body had always been good, rarely falling ill or suffering from menstrual cramps. However, when the man's palm touched her abdomen, Averi said nothing, allowing her body to enjoy the warmth it did not need.
Dallas remained equally silent, never asking who the man was. Past experiences told him that even if he asked, she might not answer, most likely countering with, "Dallas, did I ever ask you such questions?"
Moreover, more importantly, what position did he have to ask?
