Chapter 36 Mind Our Own Business
Byron frowned, a slight tension in his brow.
Heather quickly added, “I don’t mean anything bad!”
“What is it that you want to talk about?” Byron’s voice was laced with a hint of irritation, his tone unfriendly.
Heather gave a helpless smile, unbothered. “You were very nervous about Miss Newton when she was injured that day. You were even restless afterward.”
“She is indeed important to me,” Byron answered bluntly. “Miss Ross, I won’t stop you from dating other men in the future, so…”
Heather didn’t flinch. “So even if you marry me, you don’t plan to separate from her, right?”
“Yeah,” Byron nodded, his expression neutral.
Heather’s gaze softened as she processed his honesty. “You’re pretty straightforward.”
She let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “Fine. It’s good to have things clear from the start. I don’t want to be bound by marriage either. So, we’ll just mind our own business moving forward. But in front of our parents and the media, we need to pretend to be a loving couple. Is that alright?”
“Sure,” Byron responded without hesitation.
Heather settled back on the bed, sipping water as she spoke. “Let’s get engaged as soon as possible. The sooner we do it, the sooner we can be free from all of this.”
“Okay,” Byron agreed, his mind already racing ahead.
With everything settled, Byron’s mood lightened. Now that he had cleared things up with Heather, he could focus on what mattered. He sat back on the sofa, eagerly pulling out his phone to text Athena.
[Come back as soon as you finish your work.]
It was nearing one in the morning, and Byron didn’t expect an immediate reply.
While scrolling through Instagram, Byron was taken aback to find that Athena had set her account to private. He hadn’t realized that it was all because of his like on her post.
Meanwhile, in the Office of the President, the night owls were still indulging, having fun at a club well past midnight. One of them, distracted by the notifications, noticed that Byron had liked Athena’s post and immediately grew alert.
Panicking, she called Athena.
By the time Athena answered, she was half-asleep, groggy from the sudden wake-up call. Before she could speak, the voice on the other end was frantic. “Miss Newton, Mr. Crawford liked your post! Didn’t you block him?”
Athena, now wide awake, scrambled to recall the moment. She had changed her Instagram to a private account, and the realization hit her.
After a brief pause, she noticed Byron’s message. He had asked when she would be back. Athena stared at the message for a long while before turning to her Instagram.
She clicked on the post with nine pictures, and as she scrolled through the images, memories flooded back.
It was late at night when Athena could no longer hold back the emotions that had been building up. Those deep, unresolved feelings of helplessness and fear—the same feelings she had experienced on the day Romy was cremated—rushed in like a tidal wave. She was like someone drowning, grasping for anything to hold on to.
She posted on Instagram that night, the only time she’d ever crossed the line in the five years she had been with Byron.
She waited. All night. All day. For Byron’s response. But nothing came.
After Romy was buried, Athena gave up hope. She became sober to the reality.
Yet, half a year later, in the dead of night, Byron had gone through her Instagram, unknowingly stumbling upon the post.
Athena thought he might have seen it, but…
He would never know that the post’s caption was written for him.