Chapter 10 The First Day
Emma was standing right behind him.
She wore a simple, knee-length dress that fit her effortlessly. It was modest, covering her neckline and falling smoothly over her frame, with short sleeves that left her arms bare. The soft fabric skimmed her body without clinging, giving her an understated, natural elegance.
Her makeup was light—just a soft touch of lipstick and a hint around her eyes—but it only made her look more striking. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, brushing against her chest.
Simple.
Yet flawless.
Harold’s eyes stayed on her, scanning her face as if searching for a flaw—any flaw—but there was none.
Not a single one.
Before he could even react, she stepped closer.
The distance between them vanished.
Emma stopped right in front of him, placed both her hands on the table, and leaned forward slightly, bringing her face close to his. Her gaze locked onto his, calm, soft.
“I’ll let your mom know you’ve agreed. We’re dating now.”
Her tone was gentle.
Elegant.
Authoritative.
Harold’s breath caught in his throat.
For a second, he looked like he might actually collapse.
A nervous laugh slipped out of him—dry, shaky, not quite real. His lips stretched into something that resembled a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“O-Okay…”
The word came out low and unsteady.
He shot to his feet so fast the chair screeched loudly against the floor.
Sophia was still leaning over the table, both hands braced on it, her face far too close.
His hand knocked against the edge of the table behind him as he steadied himself, his body already pulling back on instinct.
Then he stepped back.
And again.
His movements were rushed, uncoordinated. His back hit the chair behind him, then the edge of another table, but he didn’t stop. He kept retreating, almost stumbling, like distance was the only thing on his mind.
He ended up half-trapped between the tables, shoulders tight, spine pressed back as far as it could go, like even an inch closer to her would break him.
He bumped into a chair—then another table—but barely seemed to notice.
It was like being near her would burn him.
He didn’t even let his sleeve brush hers.
He looked like he was avoiding even her shadow.
And then—when there was finally enough space—he turned and rushed out of the restaurant, his steps uneven, almost tripping over themselves as he shoved the door open and disappeared outside.
Emma straightened slowly, her eyes following his retreating figure.
She watched him all the way until he pushed through the doors and disappeared outside.
Then—
A small smile appeared on her lips.
Only after he was gone did she turn back.
Her gaze shifted to the two men still sitting at the table.
“Good to see you again, guys,” she said with a polite smile.
But it wasn’t the same smile she had given Harold.
Alexander’s lips curved into a smile, and Sebastian grinned at her as he nodded.
“Good to see you too, Emma.”
She gave a small, casual wave, her fingers barely lifting. “See you around,” she muttered.
Then she turned on her heel and walked away—her posture straight, flawless, as she exited the restaurant without a single glance back.
At the table, silence lingered.
Sebastian picked up his coffee, frowning slightly as he took a sip.
“What the hell is going on between him and her?” he muttered. “Didn’t Harold look like he was being chased by a demon he can’t outrun?”
Alexander met his eyes and gave a small, silent nod.
Then both of them turned toward the door again, their gazes lingering in the direction Emma had gone.
By the time Emma exited the restaurant and reached the parking lot, she noticed Harold standing next to his car, hands folded across his chest.
His arms were folded across his chest.
Gone was the frightened, almost panicked look from earlier. Now, his posture was straight, his chin slightly lifted—an arrogant, prideful expression covering his face.
But the moment Emma started walking toward him—
There it was.
A crack.
A brief flicker of unease crossed his eyes.
He tried to hide it.
But Emma saw right through him.
Still, he quickly composed himself, tightening his jaw. As she stopped in front of him, their eyes met, and he straightened his posture, forcing his voice to sound steady.
“I want to make one thing clear,” he said, his tone clipped. “I agreed to date you just to deal with my mom. I don’t really love you. It’s just… she won’t leave me alone, so… I said yes.”
He watched her closely, expecting outrage or at least some protest. But Emma didn’t flinch. She listened quietly, her expression calm and unreadable.
And when he was done—
There was no change in her expression.
Not even the slightest flicker.
She simply gave a small nod.
“Okay,” she said softly.
That was it.
Shock spread across Harold’s face, his brows pulling together as if he couldn’t quite process what just happened.
Then, as if remembering something, he added, “My mom said if we start dating, we’ll have to live together. So… are you moving into my house?”
“You can move into mine if you want,” Emma replied effortlessly.
Harold froze.
For a second, he looked completely thrown off.
Then he stiffened again, pride snapping back into place.
“I won’t be sleeping in a separate room,”Emma tilted her head slightly, her voice still soft—almost thoughtful. “If we’re dating, we’ll share the same room… won’t we?”
Harold’s face betrayed him instantly—like he’d just been stung by a bee. His cheeks flushed red despite his effort to hide it.
He turned his head away sharply, avoiding her gaze.
When he spoke again, his voice came out louder than necessary, slightly tight.
“Just—come to my house tomorrow,” he said quickly. “Bring your luggage. I’ll send you the address.”
Before she could respond, he hurried to his car, slammed the door shut, and the vehicle roared out of the parking lot as if something was chasing him.
Then—
A soft chuckle slipped from her lips.
She shook her head slightly, murmuring under her breath,
“He’s cute.”
That night, Emma packed her things, neatly arranging everything into a suitcase.
The next evening—
She stood in front of Harold’s house. A quiet, standalone villa, isolated from the noise of the city, built with clean, modern architecture. The structure was sleek and minimal, with large glass windows and sharp lines that gave it an expensive, understated elegance.
Emma lifted her gaze, taking in the house for a moment before stepping forward.
When Emma’s car came to a stop in front of the house, Harold was already standing by the door. The moment she stepped out, he took a step toward her, frowning.
“Yesterday, didn’t you say you’d come to my house today?” he asked, his brows furrowing, his voice tight with irritation.
“I did—it is the next day,” Emma replied, tilting her head slightly, a trace of confusion in her voice.
Harold’s frown deepened, and a faint crease appeared between his brows, as if he’d been personally offended. “Next day doesn’t mean the end of the day,” he muttered, a hint of irritation in his tone. “I’ve been waiting for you since this morning.”
Emma gave him a questioning look, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Why were you waiting for me all day? You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had to,” Harold said, his eyes softening for the briefest moment before hardening again. “You’re coming to my house for the first time—I have to greet you properly. I wouldn’t be a good host otherwise.”
Emma’s smile widened slightly as she watched him. The more she looked at him, the more she noticed the subtle signs of nervousness—tight jaw, fingers flexing, posture stiffening—and it made her lips curl into an amused, quiet smile.
“My bad,” she said softly. “Packing my things took a little longer than I expected.”
Harold’s frown softened just a little. “It’s fine,” he said, then gestured toward the maids waiting nearby. “Let them take your luggage inside.”
Once her suitcase was carried off, Harold turned back to her. His posture was stiff, his hands clenched lightly at his sides, but his eyes stayed fixed on hers, as if he were trying to hold himself together. His voice grew firm again.
“Remember what I said yesterday? I don’t love you.”
“I remember,” Emma replied calmly, folding her hands in front of her.
Harold’s jaw tightened. “We’re not officially together.
So… I don’t have any obligations to you.
It’s not a real relationship. It’s just for show.
You insisted on dating me, so I agreed—but I’m not interested in you.
And since this isn’t real, you can be with whoever you want, and I’ll do the same. ”
He said the words with absolute seriousness, trying to sound cold, indifferent, even arrogant. His eyes flickered with a hint of tension beneath the carefully controlled expression.
Emma’s lips curved into a small, confident smile.
“Alright… if that’s what you want,” she said softly, her tone smooth, almost indulgent. “That’s fine with me.”
A faint pause.
“I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Without another word, she turned and walked inside the house.
Harold’s brow furrowed further. Confusion, frustration, and a touch of disbelief flashed across his face. “Why… is she happy?” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t say I’m going to be with her! I said we can be with whoever we want…”
Then a sudden realization hit him, eyes widening. ‘Wait… does that mean—even if I’m her boyfriend—she’s going to be with other men?’
His expression changed instantly. The arrogance cracked, replaced by shock and disbelief. He rushed after her.
“Hey—wait! That’s not what I meant!” he shouted.
But Emma didn’t stop.
She walked straight into the house without turning back even once.
Harold halted at the entrance, jaw clenching hard. A sharp breath escaped him as irritation flared in his chest.
“The moment you got me, you’re already ignoring me?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing.
Emma stepped into the house, glancing around calmly.