Chapter 165: Secrets and Neglect

[Sera]

By the end of the week, though, Barrett's constant presence began to wane. First it was a meeting he couldn't reschedule, then an emergency at Titan Group that required his personal attention. Each time he left, he made sure I had everything I needed, but the hours he was gone grew longer.

I understood his business required attention. The world didn't stop turning because Sera Thompson had a concussion and some bruised ribs. Still, after the closeness we'd shared, his absences felt more noticeable than before.

Two weeks after our return, I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains and an empty space beside me. Again. This had become a pattern over the past few days. The bed still held the lingering warmth of Barrett's body, but he was long gone.

Sitting up, I spotted a note on his pillow, written in his precise handwriting: "Important meeting today. Breakfast in the kitchen. Love, B."

I sighed, running my fingers over the note. Since the earthquake relief work, Barrett had thrown himself into his business with renewed intensity. I understood that the Thompson economic reform plan was crucial, but lately, he'd been disappearing for hours without explanation, only offering vague excuses about "meetings" and "business matters."

In the kitchen, I found a perfect breakfast waiting: avocado toast with poached eggs, fresh berries, and my favorite tea. The thoughtfulness of it softened my irritation, but only slightly. Even when physically absent, Barrett somehow managed to take care of me.

My phone buzzed with a message from him: Quarterly reports looking good. How are you feeling this morning?

I typed back: Fine. Miss you though.

His response came quickly: Miss you too. Tied up until late afternoon.

I frowned at the screen. Another day of Barrett being mysteriously "tied up." I scrolled through his calendar on the shared app he'd insisted we use after the Valtoria trip—supposedly so I could always know his whereabouts. But lately, large blocks of time were simply marked "personal" with no explanation.

At eleven, I headed downstairs where Jay was waiting to drive me to meet my mother for lunch at the Wilson Group offices. As I approached the car, I could see Jay on the phone, speaking in hushed tones.

"Yes, sir. The materials arrived and... wait, she's coming now."

The moment he spotted me, he abruptly ended the call, nearly dropping his phone in the process. His usual composed demeanor was replaced with a flustered expression as he hurriedly opened the car door for me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thompson," he said, his voice pitched slightly higher than normal.

"Was that Barrett?" I asked, sliding into the backseat.

"Barrett? Oh! Mr. Thompson? No, no, just... contractor. Building... things. Construction matters."

I raised an eyebrow. "Jay, you're acting weird. What's going on?"

"Nothing at all!" He quickly closed my door and practically jogged around to the driver's side. "Absolutely nothing unusual. Just a normal day taking you to see your mother while Mr. Thompson attends to his... regular business activities."

"Regular business activities that he can't tell me about?"

Jay adjusted the rearview mirror, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "I really shouldn't... I mean, I don't know anything about Mr. Thompson's personal projects or special renovations or anything that might be a surprise for anyone."

I stared at the back of his head as he pulled away from the house. Barrett was definitely hiding something, and he'd clearly instructed his staff to maintain the secret as well. The poorly concealed whispers, the blocked calendar entries, and now Jay's obvious panic—it all pointed to Barrett deliberately keeping me in the dark about something significant.

At lunch with my mother in the Wilson Group executive dining room, I couldn't stop thinking about Barrett's mysterious absences.

"You've barely touched your salad," Mom noted, her eyes studying me with the newfound clarity that had returned since her treatment. "What's bothering you?"

"It's Barrett," I sighed, pushing a cherry tomato around my plate. "He's been disappearing for hours lately. His calendar is blocked out with vague 'personal time,' and Jay nearly had a nervous breakdown when I asked about it this morning."

Mom took a sip of her water, considering. "Have you asked Barrett directly?"

"He just gives me the same vague answers. 'Business matters,' 'important meetings.' But I know there's more to it."

"Maybe it's something good," she suggested. "A surprise, perhaps?"

"Or maybe he's losing interest," I countered, voicing my deepest fear.

Mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "That man looks at you like you're his personal miracle. Whatever he's hiding, I doubt it's anything that would hurt you." She smiled. "Stop tormenting yourself with what-ifs. Just ask him directly. No games, no second-guessing."

I nodded, but as I finished my lunch, a decidedly less straightforward plan began forming in my mind. If Barrett was going to be secretive, perhaps it was time for me to be a little... disruptive. I remembered his reaction when Prince Maximilian had shown interest in me—that primal, possessive response. Maybe what Barrett needed was a reminder of exactly what he'd been neglecting.

"You have that look," Mom said warily as we stood to leave. "The one you used to get right before you did something rebellious."

"I have no idea what you mean," I replied innocently, but we both knew better.

By the time Jay dropped me back at home, my plan was fully formed. Barrett had a video conference at three o'clock—the perfect opportunity to demand his undivided attention.

If Barrett thought he could keep secrets and ignore me, perhaps it was time for a little... intervention. I changed into one of his favorite outfits—a pale blue dress that he once said brought out my eyes—and made my way to his home office.