Chapter 293
Michelle’s shoot wrapped faster than expected.
She had only taken a few establishing shots of the staff and the mountain scenery at night, with Nick’s convoy passing briefly through the frame as a background element. With a full team assisting her, everything was completed in under an hour.
By the time they wrapped, night had already fully settled over the mountains.
Nick’s car was about to leave when someone knocked on the door.
Lenny rolled down the window first. His eyes shifted to the back seat, where Nick sat resting with his eyes closed, before he politely asked, “Miss Keller, can I help you?”
Michelle adjusted her expression and glanced past him, toward Nick. “My vehicle is full. Could I ride back to the hotel with you?”
Her tone softened as she added, “Nick, since we’re heading back anyway, I can go over tomorrow’s schedule in the car. It’ll save time later.”
Only then did Nick open his eyes.
He didn’t respond immediately. After a short pause, he simply motioned for Lenny to unlock the door.
The door slid open.
Michelle stepped in—but instead of sitting beside him, she moved toward the seat next to Nick.
His voice stopped her mid-step.
“There’s space in the front.”
It was flat. Unemotional. Final.
The rear cabin of the seven-seater was nearly empty, but Nick didn’t even look at her when he spoke.
A faint embarrassment crossed Michelle’s face. She adjusted her posture and walked forward, choosing the front passenger seat. After sitting down, she deliberately left two seats’ worth of distance between them, as though that made the rejection easier to swallow.
“Is this okay?” she asked carefully.
Nick didn’t answer. He only raised a hand slightly—permission to continue.
The car moved along the winding mountain road.
Inside, a warm reading light glowed softly, cutting through the dark interior. Michelle opened her tablet and began reviewing the next day’s schedule in a professional tone.
Nick mostly listened with his eyes closed. Occasionally, he interrupted with brief, precise questions—never wasting a word.
“…And the final segment,” Michelle said, turning the screen toward him. “We’ve added a midnight shoot at the mountain observation deck. It’s meant to capture sunrise transition lighting…”
The vehicle jolted slightly as it hit a bend.
Michelle’s body swayed, and the tablet slipped from her grip. Instinctively, she looked toward Nick—expecting him to steady her.
He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned back slightly, arms folded, deliberately maintaining distance even across the seat gap.
No contact. No accident. No misunderstanding.
“We’ll follow the plan. Finish early if possible,” Nick said evenly.
Michelle lowered her gaze and nodded, putting the tablet away.
When the discussion ended, silence filled the car.
Only the sound of tires against mountain asphalt remained.
Michelle turned toward the window, staring into the pitch-black forest outside. Her fingers tightened slowly into a fist.
…
Late that night, they arrived at the hotel.
Lenny got out first and opened the door for her. The hotel was the only proper accommodation in the area, but Nick had arranged separate wings for each of them.
As Nick stepped out to leave, Michelle suddenly spoke.
“Nick… have you ever told Khloe the truth about yourself?”
His steps stopped.
The night wind cut sharply through the space between them, stretching his shadow long and rigid under the hotel lights.
Lenny’s expression changed immediately. “Miss Keller—”
“It’s fine.” Michelle raised a hand, stopping him. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t back down. “Back then, I hesitated. I didn’t trust what we had.”
She looked straight at Nick now.
“But I’ve accepted it now. I love you. And I accept everything about you.”
A pause.
Then, softer—but sharper—
“Khloe is not like me. If she knew the truth… do you really think she would stay?”
Nick didn’t move.
“She’s different,” he said at last, voice low and controlled. “She wouldn’t leave me when I’m at my weakest.”
Michelle stepped closer, urgency breaking through her composure.
“Then tell her,” she pressed. “Tell her that the person sleeping beside her might lose control one day—”
“Shut up.”
Nick’s voice cut through the night.
Low. Hoarse. Deadly calm.