Chapter 114

Chapter 114

Cordelia didn't know how far she'd walked.

After leaving the coffee shop, she'd turned right out of habit and just kept going, never changing direction.

Strangely enough, the rain began to ease shortly after she left. But the moon remained hidden behind the clouds.

As if hinting at something.

By the time the rain stopped completely, Cordelia realized she had unconsciously walked all the way to Yvaine's design studio.

She hadn't been here in ages.

The studio occupied a three-story office building in an industrial park. All three floors were lit up.

Cordelia shook the water from her hands and fished her phone out of her bag to check the time.

Nine o'clock already.

Was Yvaine still working this late?

Cordelia drifted toward the studio without thinking.

Back when she was with the Carnegie family, she'd had nothing to do besides taking care of Ellington. Yvaine had invited her to come spend time at the studio.

It was only here that she could quiet her mind enough to design. Yvaine would take her sketches and make sample garments so she could refine her work. If she was lucky, a client would buy the rights outright for mass production.

Of course, that kind of luck was rare. She hadn't completed many designs at the studio to begin with.

Cordelia walked up to the entrance and was about to unlock it with her fingerprint when she pulled her hand back.

She was soaked from head to toe. If Yvaine saw her like this, it would only cause worry.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she sneezed without warning.

"Cordelia? Why are you standing out here instead of coming in?"

Yvaine's voice came from behind her. She hadn't expected that.

No escaping now.

But putting on a smile right now—she genuinely couldn't manage it.

"I was just passing by. Saw your lights were still on and wandered over without thinking."

Yvaine had already closed her umbrella. In the light filtering through the glass door, she got a clear look at Cordelia and her eyes went wide.

"What the hell have you been doing? You're completely drenched! You didn't think to go home and change? Are you trying to get sick again?"

Yvaine didn't bother going into the studio. She pulled Cordelia straight to her car and drove her home.

On the way back, Cordelia could already feel something off in her body.

She absolutely should not have walked in that rain.

Getting chilled made the car sickness worse. When the car stopped, the world spun around her, her stomach lurching violently.

"Don't just slump over in the car. Take some cold medicine, get a hot shower, then lie down."

In the end, Yvaine had to help her inside.

Cordelia changed clothes and took the medicine. After resting for a while, she felt better—the pounding in her head eased enough for her to manage a hot shower.

Half an hour later, Yvaine sat across from her, arms crossed, watching Cordelia towel-dry her hair with a stern expression. "Spill. Ellington came to find you again, didn't he?"

"You're that sure I got soaked because of him?" Cordelia stood at the bathroom vanity, staring at her reflection. An unhealthy flush was creeping across her cheeks. "The rain came out of nowhere today. I didn't have an umbrella. I waited forever for it to stop, couldn't get a car, and finally just decided to walk."

A dull ache pulsed at the back of her skull. Yvaine glared at her. "I think the rain washed away your brain cells. The route from Vogue Vortex to your place doesn't go anywhere near the studio."

"And another thing—did you forget who you are? Do you actually think you're some ordinary person with no resources? You're a Sinclair. The Sinclair family may not be as powerful as the Carnegies, but you're still a prominent wealthy family. No umbrella, no ride—and it didn't occur to you to call your family's driver?"

Cordelia went quiet.

She really had forgotten about the driver.

"The rain was so heavy. I didn't want to bother him. It was almost the end of his shift, and the traffic was probably terrible."

Yvaine's expression didn't soften.

"Dry your hair first. Then we're talking."

Cordelia waited until her hair stopped dripping before finally switching on the blow dryer.

Meanwhile, Yvaine called Xanthe.

"Ms. Garcia, Cordelia and I have some work to discuss. It's too late now, so I'm having her stay at my place tonight."

Coming from Yvaine, Xanthe didn't question it.

After hanging up, Yvaine exhaled with relief.

Looking the way she did, Cordelia going home would only alarm her parents. That was the last thing either of them needed.

Ten minutes later, Cordelia settled onto the couch. Yvaine handed her another packet of cold medicine dissolved in warm water.

"So what happened today? And don't leave anything out."

Cordelia's head was clearer now, the pain fading to a manageable throb.

She told the truth. "You were right. I ran into Ellington. And his fiancée."

The word 'fiancée' hung in the air. Even Yvaine needed a moment to process it.

"You mean Sloane? She actually had the nerve to show up in front of you with Ellington? That scheming little— She's lucky no one's made her pay with her life! And she's really walking around calling herself his fiancée?"

Cordelia didn't react.

"I couldn't stand looking at either of them, so I left. Otherwise I wouldn't have walked in the rain."

Looking back, she'd been impulsive again. Making herself sick over those two wasn't worth it.

Yvaine scoffed. "You should've called me. I would've torn that sorry pair apart."

"Forget it. Don't get worked up. It's really not a big deal."

Just a divorce. A miscarriage. Lingering ties that wouldn't sever cleanly. Ellington pursuing, her running. Nothing major, really. Just the constant, grinding weight of it wearing her down.

"If you ask me, you should just give Griffin a chance."

The words came out of nowhere. Cordelia opened her mouth to argue.

"Hear me out first." Yvaine pressed on quickly. "Don't talk about it being irresponsible. A woman should marry a man who loves his wife more than he loves himself. Otherwise, what—you marry someone and spend your life patching up the holes in his? You'd be better off alone."

"Griffin loves you more. Compared to what you feel for him, that alone should be enough. Stop fixating on Ellington. He's not worth it."

Cordelia's eyelid twitched. She tried to cut in. "Yvaine, my situation has nothing to do with Griffin—"

"And don't feel guilty just because he cares about you more. That's how it should be when a woman gets married. Besides, Griffin seems perfectly willing. He'd be endlessly patient with you. Unlike Ellington—"

"Enough! Can you just listen to me for a second?"

Cordelia pressed hard against her temples.

The headache was back.

"I don't have to get married. How do you know I won't meet someone else I fall for? Life is long."

Who is the person I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with?

Cordelia asked herself silently.

The first face that surfaced in her mind was still Ellington's.

"I hear you, Cordelia. I'm just worried… it'll be hard to find another man who treats you better than Griffin does."

Not a fear of growing old alone—just the fear of letting the one who loved you most slip away.

That was what most people called regret.

How many hearts are truly sincere?