Chapter 38 Deserve to Be Loved
The car pulled up outside my apartment building. I kept stubbornly staring at Nicholas, completely oblivious to the fact that I didn't actually need to care what he thought of me.
Maybe my avoidant personality was kicking in, making me afraid of criticism. Maybe it was something else entirely. Didn't matter. Right now, I just needed to know his answer.
Nicholas unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at me seriously. "Catherine, why does it matter what I think?"
"You're not a bad person. I don't think you're bad. You're good."
"The Rosewood family's crimes against you are too numerous to count, but you've never complained to me about them. Not even once. You know what? When I heard you'd decided to get revenge, I was happy. You were finally facing yourself, acknowledging your own needs. But now you're doubting yourself again."
He rambled on like a nagging old man. But I didn't feel the slightest bit impatient. Instead, my eyes started stinging.
He wasn't judging me. More than that, he was validating my choices, telling me I didn't need to care what anyone thought. Including him. Nicholas wanted me to just be myself.
Be myself? What a nebulous concept.
After the car accident, I'd been the only survivor. In my past life, hadn't I spent every moment drowning in pain and guilt? Even though Sabrina had humiliated me countless times, I'd still held onto Uncle Herman's life-saving grace, clung to the idea of blood ties with the Rosewood family. My entire life had revolved around curing Sabrina's illness. Not a single second spent being myself.
And now this man in front of me was firmly telling me I could be myself.
"Nicholas..."
He hummed in response and leaned closer. I nervously shut my eyes, my heart pounding anxiously. What was he doing? Was he going to kiss me? Should I pull away?
A million chaotic thoughts raced through my mind.
Click.
After some rustling sounds, Nicholas spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Catherine, do you like me?"
My eyes flew open. I glanced around and realized belatedly that he'd just been unbuckling my seatbelt. Heat flooded my cheeks and ears, completely beyond my control.
"No!" I denied it instantly, though there was definitely some petulance in my tone.
Nicholas chuckled. "I don't believe you. But I'm willing to wait until the day you admit you like me."
He'd seen right through me. Why was it so hot in this car?
My instinct was to flee. My hand had just reached for the door handle when Nicholas suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. Completely unprepared, I tumbled into his embrace.
I struggled to get up. Nicholas held me there without explanation.
"Let me go—mmph!"
My eyes went wide with disbelief. Watching his face grow larger in my vision, the moment our lips met felt like an electric shock coursing through my entire body.
Nicholas didn't look up. But his warm palm accurately covered my eyes. His low, magnetic voice came out breathless near my ear. "Be good. Close your eyes."
I obediently shut them. Even having died once before, I'd never kissed anyone. But I could still tell Nicholas wasn't experienced either. His kiss was clumsy, tentative. Yet incredibly gentle, like he was terrified of giving me a bad experience.
My lack of resistance seemed to embolden him. Nicholas grew more daring.
Time seemed to freeze in that moment.
Finally, unable to breathe, I shoved him away. Nicholas looked reluctant to stop. Watching me gasp for air, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
I awkwardly looked away, avoiding his gaze.
Nicholas didn't push further. He just held me in his arms. "Catherine, you deserve to be loved."
His words exploded in my heart like massive fireworks. My pulse kept racing. I could hear the pounding right in my ears.
Was this what it felt like to have a crush? I must be sick. Maybe Sabrina wasn't the one with the heart condition—maybe it was me all along!
Then came silence. I could hear his fierce heartbeat in his chest, matching the rhythm of mine. Maybe I shouldn't have let him kiss me. What if he got the wrong idea? Not completely wrong, though. But was I ready for it?
I'd barely gotten my emotions under control when Nicholas spoke again. "Cate, are you still mad at me?"
Before I could answer, a soft, fuzzy sensation touched my neck. Nicholas had buried his face against my shoulder, his voice muffled.
"I'm sorry. Before, I couldn't recognize my own feelings. I really like you. No matter what you become, I'll still like you. You're wonderful. You've just been poisoned by the Rosewood family for so long that you've temporarily lost yourself. It's okay. I'll stay by your side until you find your real life again, until you're ready to face everything around you."
My heart stirred again. Was Nicholas... confessing again?
I didn't give him any response. Nicholas seemed a bit discouraged but still smiled. "Catherine, we'll take it slow."
Back in my apartment, lying in bed with my eyes closed, images kept swirling through my mind. Nicholas unbuckling my seatbelt. Him kissing me. Him burying his head in my neck, earnestly confessing his feelings. The scenes intertwined and lingered.
My body temperature skyrocketed. My heart raced. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I even found myself replaying the sensation of kissing Nicholas. Oxygen slowly depleting, my whole body going soft.
Eventually, I drifted off into a hazy sleep.
Sabrina's experience that night wasn't nearly as sweet. She'd only managed to sell two paintings all evening. When she got home and opened her phone, she felt like the sky was falling.
The next morning when I woke up and checked my phone, a barrage of messages came flooding out. All from Sabrina alone. Didn't need to think hard to know she'd seen the photo and was losing her mind.
In an excellent mood, I opened the chat.
[Catherine, where did you get that photo?]
[What do you know?]
[Delete it!]
At first she'd completely lost it, just desperately demanding I delete the photo. After getting no response from me, she'd recovered some semblance of rationality.
[How can you even prove that's me in the photo?]
[Don't think you can threaten me with random pictures. Catherine, dream on.]
Sabrina started distancing herself from the photo. She was gambling—betting I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Betting I'd gotten the photo from someone else and had no other evidence.
Her words didn't affect me one bit. I calmly typed out a response.
[You know what? If I send this photo to Michael, do you think he'll realize his beloved little sister stole his paintings?]