70 - Dont go with her
The next day Scarlett thrived in the midst of this productive frenzy.
The sketches that had once been mere ideas on paper took physical form under her guidance—elegant garments emerging from careful stitches and precise cuts, each one a testament to her vision.
Linda stood back as Scarlett made final adjustments to the showcase dress, whistling softly.
"Stunning," she declared. "Absolutely stunning.
"
Adrian, passing by with a clipboard full of press contacts, stopped to admire the creation.
"Scarlett, you've outdone yourself," he said, genuine admiration lighting his features.
Even Ethan, during one of his inspection rounds, paused longer than usual at Scarlett's workstation.
"Good work, Scarlett," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear.
The rare praise sent warmth spreading through her chest, despite her determination to remain indifferent to him.
After the whirlwind of activity, the final prototype stood completed on its mannequin—a testament to Scarlett's skill and the countless hours she'd poured into its creation.
She circled it one last time, making minute adjustments to the drape of fabric, the placement of seams.
The exhaustion of the past weeks caught up with her all at once.
Scarlett sank into her chair, intending to rest her eyes for just a moment.
Sleep claimed her instantly, head pillowed on her arms atop her cluttered desk.
She didn't hear the door open or the footsteps approaching.
Didn't see Ethan pause in the doorway, expression softening as he took in her sleeping form.
Didn't notice as he entered the room, moving quietly to examine the finished garment with critical eyes that widened in appreciation.
For several minutes, Ethan stood motionless, gaze shifting between the masterpiece Scarlett had created and Scarlett herself.
In sleep, the tension had left her face, revealing the delicate features that had first caught his attention years ago, before business and expectations had complicated everything.
A small sound escaped her as she stirred, eyelids fluttering open.
Confusion clouded her face momentarily before recognition dawned, followed swiftly by embarrassment.
"Ethan..." She straightened, brushing hair from her face.
"Sorry, I slept."
"It's okay." His voice held none of its usual sharpness.
"Let's go."
Scarlett blinked, still disoriented from sleep.
"Where?"
"Home."
Reality reasserted itself, the brief moment of connection dissipating.
Scarlett reached for her bag. "No need. I'll take a taxi.
"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Scarlett. I said go with me.
" The command in his tone was unmistakable.
She moved past him toward the door, chin lifted in defiance.
"I can't, Ethan."
His hand shot out, fingers circling her wrist with surprising gentleness despite the firmness of his grip.
"If I say something, you have to do it."
Before she could protest further, he'd guided her—half leading, half dragging—to the parking garage and into the passenger seat of his sleek black car.
The drive passed in tense silence. Scarlett kept her gaze fixed out the window, watching buildings blur past, street lights creating patterns of illumination and shadow across her face.
She could feel Ethan's eyes on her at stoplights, his attention a tangible weight.
"What did you say that day?" he finally asked, breaking the silence as they merged onto the expressway.
Scarlett feigned ignorance. "What did I say?
"
"Why does it bother you?"
She remained silent, hoping he'd drop the subject.
But Ethan persisted, repeating the question with increasing intensity until something snapped inside her.
"Because, I don't know the reason Ethan!
" The words exploded from her, hands gesturing emphatically.
"But whatever you do is bothering me. I can't be myself when Catherine is near you.
I know this marriage is made out of business, not love.
But something about the way you act—it bothers me.
"
Her voice cracked slightly. "Sometimes you act normal, and sometimes you're so cold.
I don't know how to differentiate it, Ethan.
I don't know what to expect."
The car rolled to a stop outside the mansion.
Neither moved, the engine's soft purr the only sound in the confined space.
Scarlett finally exhaled, shaking her head.
"Forget it."
She stepped out, leaving Ethan behind.
Days passed, the chasm between them widening with each sunrise and sunset.
They moved through the apartment like ghosts, occupying the same spaces at different times, careful never to disturb the fragile peace of avoidance.
Catherine watched this dance of distance with calculating eyes, sensing opportunity in their estrangement.
She made her move on a Tuesday afternoon, trailing Scarlett to the restroom with casual deliberation.
As Scarlett washed her hands, Catherine appeared beside her, applying fresh lipstick in the mirror.
"Looks like you and Ethan have problems," she commented, blotting her lips with a tissue.
Scarlett sighed, reaching for a paper towel.
"No. Why would you think that?"
"Ethan told me.
" Catherine's eyes met Scarlett's in the mirror, challenge evident in their blue depths.
Shock rippled through Scarlett at the mention of Ethan confiding in this woman.
She froze, towel crumpled in her fist.
Catherine continued, voice honey-sweet but laced with venom.
"Looks like he married you only for business.
"
Scarlett remained silent, unable to formulate a response that wouldn't reveal too much.
Her silence seemed to embolden Catherine, who stepped closer, invading Scarlett's personal space.
"I told you, I know Ethan better than you do," she murmured, the words landing like precise knife strikes.
Something in Scarlett rebelled against this assertion.
She straightened, meeting Catherine's gaze directly.
"I will not believe that Ethan told you things like this.
"
For a fraction of a second, uncertainty flickered across Catherine's perfect features before she regained control.
"Then I can prove it," she countered. "Today, Ethan and I are going for dinner.
If you can ask your husband not to go, then perhaps I'm wrong.
"
The challenge hung between them, a gauntlet thrown.
"Ethan will not go with you," Scarlett stated, more conviction in her voice than she truly felt.
Catherine's lips curved in a predatory smile.
"Let's see, Scarlett. All the best." She sauntered from the restroom, leaving behind the lingering scent of expensive perfume and unspoken threats.
That evening, Scarlett waited until the office had nearly emptied before approaching Ethan's suite.
She knocked once, then entered without waiting for permission.
Ethan glanced up from his computer, surprise evident in the slight raise of his eyebrows.
"Scarlett?"
"Can you take me home?" The request came out more vulnerable than she'd intended.
Ethan checked his watch, frowning slightly.
"I have an appointment today. You can book a taxi, or I'll call for a driver.
"
"Appointment?" Scarlett echoed, dread pooling in her stomach.
"Yes."
"With Catherine?" The name felt bitter on her tongue.
"Yes." His answer was clipped, attention already returning to his screen.
"Cancel it." The words emerged as a command rather than the plea she felt.
Ethan's head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
"Scarlett, don't order me what to do."
"Oh great," she said, voice rising.
"You want to spend time with her after work?
"
"Shut up, Scarlett," Ethan growled, standing abruptly.
"Don't talk about something you don't know.
"
"Ethan, I said don't go with her." The request softened, vulnerability seeping through the cracks in her armor.
Surprise flashed across his features, quickly replaced by irritation.
"What? Who do you think to order me?"
The words landed like a physical blow.
"I am your wife, Ethan?"
"That's right," he continued, voice hardening.
"But only on papers. Do you really think you can act like my wife?
"
Pain bloomed in Scarlett's chest, spreading outward until her entire body felt like one raw nerve.
"Yes, I know. You and I have nothing. We don't even have a relationship.
But why do you make it so hard for me, Ethan?
"
"Who made it hard for you?" he demanded, circling the desk to stand before her.
"Me? Why would you be hurt by me?"
"Because you made me think like that," she whispered, the admission costing her more than she could afford to lose.
"Always."
Ethan's expression closed off completely.
"Then don't think of me. And don't be delusional.
You don't mean anything to me, okay?"
Tears filled onto Scarlett's eyes, hot and unwelcome.
"Alright," she said, voice breaking. "I'll never wait for you.
And from now on, you are nothing to me, Ethan.
"
He dismissed her pain with a wave. "Don't make this into a big scene.
"
As if summoned by the tension, Catherine appeared in the doorway, designer coat draped over one arm.
"Ethan, shall we start?" Her gaze flickered to Scarlett, absorbing the tears and distress with evident satisfaction.
Ethan checked his watch again. "Yes, we can.
I'll be done in a couple of minutes. You can wait there.
" He nodded toward the reception area.
Once Catherine withdrew, Ethan turned back to Scarlett, impatience evident in every line of his body.
"Scarlett, I don't have time for your drama.
Can you please?" He gestured toward the door, a clear dismissal.
Humiliation washed over her in a scalding wave.
She'd been dismissed by her husband—for his girlfriend.
The reality of her situation struck with cruel clarity.
Without her knowledge or consent, she had fallen for him, and now that truth was tearing her apart from the inside.
She hurried from the room, vision blurred by unshed tears.
Catherine waited in the reception area, victory etched into her smile, posture radiating triumph.
Scarlett couldn't bear to return to her empty office or the even emptier apartment.
She walked out of the building and kept walking, letting her feet carry her through city streets growing dark with evening shadows.
Her mind raced with painful realizations and unanswerable questions.
Meanwhile, Ethan paced his office, agitation evident in every movement.
"Who does she think she is, ordering me around?
" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm Ethan Blackwood. The world runs according to my wishes.
"
He paused by the window, staring out at the city lights beginning to illuminate the skyline.
Despite his anger, he couldn't completely dismiss Scarlett's words.
Something in her tone—in her eyes—had been different.
She'd spoken with certainty, as if she truly believed he would listen to her.
But he'd turned her certainty into a lie and hurt her in the process.
With a sudden decision, he reached for his phone.
"Catherine," he said when she answered. "Cancel today's appointment.
"
Her shock was evident even through the phone line.
"Ethan, why? We worked hard to get these investors.
"
"Yes, I know," he replied, already reaching for his coat.
"But now I want to cancel it. I can talk with them later.
"
He disconnected before she could respond, sinking onto the office couch and leaning back with closed eyes, thoughts filled with Scarlett—her pain, her accusations, and the uncomfortable truths they might contain.
Rain began to fall as Scarlett walked, initially just a fine mist that she barely noticed.
Lost in thought, she'd wandered far from familiar streets, each step taking her deeper into her painful realizations.
She'd fallen in love with her business-arrangement husband, and he'd made it abundantly clear that he felt nothing in return.
The mist thickened to proper rain, then to a downpour that soaked through her thin blouse and plastered her hair to her scalp.
Only then did she register her surroundings—an unfamiliar neighborhood, darkened storefronts, and empty sidewalks.
Seeking shelter, she spotted an old-fashioned coffee shop on the corner and ducked inside.
The small glass enclosure offered minimal protection, but at least she could catch her breath.
Leaning against the wall, she looked out at the rain-slicked streets, droplets cascading down the glass panels like tears.
In that moment of solitude, surrounded by rain and darkness, Scarlett allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak.
She closed her eyes, listening to the rhythm of raindrops against glass, wondering how she'd found herself so completely lost—both literally and figuratively.
What came next was still uncertain, but one thing had become devastatingly clear: she couldn't continue pretending that this marriage was merely a business arrangement, not when her heart had decided otherwise.
—
Scarlett pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the old cafe, watching rivulets of rain cascade down the transparent walls like liquid diamonds.
Her heartbeat quickened as she glanced at her wristwatch—an hour had passed, and the downpour showed no signs of relenting.
The sky had darkened to a deep slate gray, angry clouds swirling overhead in an endless tumult.
"Just perfect," she whispered, her breath creating a small foggy patch on the glass.
The realization hit her like a sudden chill: her phone and wallet remained on her desk at work, tucked away in her purse.
Her fingers instinctively patted her empty pockets, as if hoping they might magically appear.
The hollow feeling in her stomach wasn't just from hunger now, but from a creeping vulnerability that came with being stranded.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Scarlett flinched.
Each option she considered seemed worse than the last. Walk home in the deluge?
Wait indefinitely? The memory of Ethan's words from earlier that day echoed painfully through her mind: "You are not anyone to me.
" The casual cruelty of his statement had sent her rushing out of the building without a second thought for her belongings.
Now those words stung even more as she stood alone, abandoned by both weather and warmth.
Her gaze settled on the payphone. There was really only one person she could call.
With slightly trembling fingers, she dialed Andrian's number, each beep of the buttons sounding unnaturally loud in the small space.
She held her breath as the phone rang once, twice, three times.
Perhaps he was busy. Perhaps she'd have to find another way—
"Hello?
" His voice came through, steady and warm.
"Andrian." Her voice cracked slightly, betraying more emotion than she intended.
There was the briefest pause before he responded, "Scarlett.
" He didn't need her to introduce herself; he knew her voice instantly, the way people recognize melodies they've loved for years.
She swallowed hard, forcing lightness into her tone.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm stuck at the corner of Maple and Fifth without my wallet or phone.
The rain's terrible, and I—" She paused, hating how vulnerable she sounded.
"Could you possibly pick me up? If it's not too much trouble?
"
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Andrian replied without hesitation.
"Stay dry."
Fifteen minutes later—exactly as promised—headlights cut through the curtain of rain.
Scarlett watched as Andrian's sleek black sedan pulled to the curb, water splashing beneath its tires.
Through the rain-blurred glass, she saw him emerge, unfurling a large umbrella.
His tall figure moved with purpose as he scanned the area, finally spotting her silhouette in the phone booth.
Andrian approached slowly, his eyes never leaving her.
The rain drummed against his umbrella in a steady rhythm, creating a private symphony between them.
As he drew closer, Scarlett could see the concern etched across his features—in the slight furrow of his brow, in the tight set of his jaw.
When their eyes met, something inside Scarlett sparked to life.
A warmth spread through her chest despite her damp clothes and chilled skin.
"Andrian," she said, a genuine smile breaking across her face.
"You reached fast. You're really quick."
"For you?
Always." He extended his hand, bringing the umbrella closer.
"Come on, let's get you somewhere dry."
As they walked to the car, Andrian positioned himself between Scarlett and the street, shielding her from passing cars that might splash water.
His arm hovered near the small of her back, not quite touching but ready to steady her if she slipped on the wet pavement.
The gesture wasn't lost on Scarlett, who felt an acute awareness of the space between them—close enough to feel his warmth, yet separated by invisible boundaries neither dared to cross.
Inside the car, the sudden silence after the pounding rain was almost deafening.
The heater hummed softly as Andrian adjusted it, directing warm air toward Scarlett.
As he pulled away from the curb, his eyes flickered to her in the rearview mirror.
Andrian's thoughts raced as he navigated the rain-slicked streets.
There was something different about Scarlett today—a vulnerability beneath her usual composed exterior.
He'd known her long enough to recognize when she was putting on a brave face.
The sight of her standing alone in that phone booth, hair dampened by rain, had stirred something fierce within him.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his mind turned to Ethan.
What kind of man would leave Scarlett stranded like this?
Their relationship had always confused Andrian—Ethan treating her more like a possession than a partner.
How many times had he watched Scarlett dim her own light to accommodate Ethan's ego?
"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
"And I don't mean the rain."
Scarlett's reflection in the passenger window showed a flash of surprise before she composed herself.
"I'm fine," she said automatically, then sighed.
"Actually, no. I forgot to bring my phone and wallet.
" She folded her hands in her lap, staring at her interlocked fingers.
He questioned “Then how did you reach here? It is very far from the office”.
Then only Scarlett realizes how far she walked.
She managed by saying “Ah… I came with a friend. She had an emergency”.
Andrian didn't want to dig more.
Andrian nodded, not pressing further.
"My place isn't far," he said. "You can dry off and wait until the rain stops.
No pressure."
"Thank you," Scarlett whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of windshield wipers fighting against the downpour.
As they drove, Andrian found himself making a silent promise: whatever had hurt Scarlett today, he wouldn't let it happen again.
Not while he still had breath in his body.