Chapter 129 Midnight Longing
That day, Sophie's words were like a needle—with just a light poke, she drew out all the feelings Rachel had been trying to hide.
Rachel already had some confidence around Arthur because of her face that somewhat resembled Aria's, and now she was treating that confidence as permission to do whatever she wanted.
Coffee, documents, late-night snacks—she handled everything perfectly and attentively, crossing boundaries bit by bit, her eyes showing dependence and eagerness to please without any attempt to hide it.
People at the company saw it all but didn't dare say anything. They could only gossip in hushed voices in the break room, making vague speculations that circled around Arthur and Rachel.
Arthur noticed too, but that night when he mistook her for someone else weighed on his heart like a stone. Mixed with guilt and complicated emotions, he didn't stop her from getting closer.
But his silence looked like approval to others, and to Rachel, it became the clearest confirmation.
She was convinced that Arthur treated her differently all because of this face.
So she grew bolder, pushing further step by step, doing things more and more openly, acting very much like the future lady boss. This made some people quite unhappy with her.
Among them were some senior employees.
Some of these veterans had some connection with Sophie and couldn't stand Rachel's arrogant attitude. They quietly reported to Sophie in detail about how Rachel had been fawning over Arthur these past days.
The person spoke indignantly, as if standing up for her, waiting to see her step in and handle the situation.
But Sophie just lowered her eyes calmly, her face showing not even a ripple of emotion, as if what the person was saying had no effect on her at all.
She didn't care.
Not one bit.
Everyone thought what she wanted was Arthur's love, that wedding, the position by his side.
But only Sophie knew clearly that from the beginning, these weren't what she wanted at all.
What was most valuable to her about Arthur was the businesses under his name, the shares he held.
All these years staying by his side, the reason she had arranged for those people to enter the company and work in his businesses was for exactly this.
As for all that talk of liking him, of love—it was just an excuse she acted out so convincingly that she briefly fooled even herself.
Now that Rachel wanted to cling to Arthur using that face similar to Aria's, it suited her perfectly.
The only reason she was willing to help was to get revenge on Aria.
These five years, because of Aria, Arthur never registered their marriage with her.
She had originally planned to let it go—not having the certificate didn't matter.
But who could have imagined that now, because of those broken flowers and plants Aria left behind, Arthur would be so heartless toward her.
Since Arthur wanted to play this role, she would help Rachel stay by his side. Then when Aria came back and saw someone who looked like her staying beside Arthur, who knows if she'd find it disgusting.
Ha, she definitely would.
After all, anyone seeing this situation wouldn't be happy about it.
Arthur wanted everything, so she'd make sure he got nothing!
When all his attention was on these women, it would be convenient for her to take everything she wanted from the shadows.
Arthur had no idea Sophie was scheming like this, much less that all these years had been part of her calculation.
Late at night, he dragged his exhausted body home from the company. Looking at the villa that had changed so much over the years under Sophie's arrangements, he felt a trace of loneliness.
He went straight to the bedroom. Drowsiness hit him, but he tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Lately, his stomach had been aching faintly, a dull discomfort that left him restless.
He closed his eyes, his mind filled with scenes from the past.
Back when Aria was still by his side, whenever his stomach pain flared up, she would get up in the middle of the night and stand in the kitchen slowly simmering stomach-soothing soup over low heat.
The soup tasted mild but was especially comforting. The warmth would spread through his stomach, and the pain would ease considerably.
After she left, he had asked the chef to make it according to his memory—same ingredients, same steps—but the taste was never the same.
As if possessed, he pulled out his phone, his fingertip uncontrollably opening that email account that had been sealed away for years.
The second he logged in successfully, his heart clenched sharply. In the recipient field, he entered Aria's email address.
The cursor blinked in the message box for a long time. He deleted and wrote, wrote and deleted, finally leaving only one pathetically thin sentence: "Aria, my stomach is hurting again. How did you make that soup you used to cook for me? Can you tell me?"
The moment he pressed send, he suddenly snapped back to reality, like waking from a dream that was both absurd and clear-headed.
He knew this email account she probably didn't use anymore, and she wouldn't reply.
And even if he knew the recipe, he couldn't recreate the taste from back then.
But he still sent it.
As expected, there was no response.
Arthur stared at the dark phone screen, his Adam's apple rolling slightly. After a long while, he let out a low laugh.
That laugh was bitterly trembling, carrying a grievance and unwillingness even he hadn't noticed.
"Heartless woman."
--
Far away in Iceland, Aria knew nothing about Arthur's late-night pain and struggle.
She had just finished her work and was sitting by the window enjoying the ocean view and sipping coffee when her phone suddenly rang. The caller ID showed Lucy.
Aria paused slightly, her voice still carrying a hint of hoarseness when she answered, "Lucy?"
At this time, it should be late at night back home—why was she calling at this hour?
Before she could think further, suppressed sobbing came through the phone, mixed with panic, "Aria, I really had no choice. I ran into some trouble back home and need a large sum of money. I'm really at my wit's end, that's why I dared to come to you."
Aria's fingers tightened slightly around the phone, her brows furrowing gently.
When she had decided to leave that year, she had first handed the studio over to Lucy to manage. Originally she thought she could handle both sides, but fate always loved playing jokes on her.
After giving birth to Jasper, her body completely broke down. She could barely take care of herself, let alone look after that studio back home that she had poured all her heart and soul into.
With no other choice, she had asked Lance to help her sell the studio completely.
She didn't keep much of the money—most of it went to the studio employees, which was the last thing she could give them.
She had thought Lucy should be doing well now, never imagining she would call at a time like this, saying she was at her wit's end.
After all, this was someone who had stayed by her side back then—she couldn't bring herself to ignore it.
Aria closed her eyes, took a light breath, her voice calm but carrying a trace of barely noticeable fatigue, "Take your time. What exactly happened?"