Chapter 41
Sienna's POV
"We broke up a long time ago." I looked down, my voice calm as if narrating someone else's story.
Aiden nodded slowly, showing no surprise. "I heard from classmates that you two ran into each other at the reunion?"
Apparently, nothing stayed secret in the Oakridge alumni circle.
"Yeah." I only gave him that one word, not planning to elaborate.
Aiden didn't press for details. He just watched me quietly, waited a few seconds, then asked the real question:
"So this time? Will you start over?"
My mind went blank.
I opened my mouth, wanting to say "no"—that should be the standard answer, the answer I'd been repeating to myself for weeks. But the words stuck in my throat.
"You always answer like this when you're uncertain."
That sentence was both a revelation and a gentle reminder. He wasn't forcing me to take a clear stance, just using this way to tell me: I see through you, but I won't call you out.
I lowered my eyes, not knowing how to react.
Fortunately, Aiden quickly changed the subject, talking about other things—industry trends, mutual acquaintances, life in Amsterdam. We stayed a while longer, until the sunlight outside began to slant westward.
Before leaving, Aiden stood by his car and said, as if suddenly remembering:
"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Carter's birthday is tomorrow."
I froze. Hazel Carter—our high school English teacher and homeroom advisor, a gentle, rigorous woman who cared deeply for her students.
"It's also her last gathering before retirement," Aiden added. "Quite a few people will be there."
He looked at me, waiting for my response.
My first reaction was to refuse.
Old classmates, high school memories—these elements combined were like a preview of an emotional car crash I couldn't bear.
But in the end, I only said, "I'll see if I have time."
Aiden nodded, not insisting. "Alright. We'll be in touch."
He got in his car and drove off. I stood there, watching his car disappear around the corner, the indescribable pressure in my chest growing heavier.
---
That evening at eight, I sat on the couch in apartment 1203 at Harbor View Residences, staring blankly at the glittering bay view outside the window.
My phone suddenly rang—a video call from Peyton.
As soon as I answered, her face filled the entire screen.
"Did you hear about Mrs. Carter's birthday party?"
I nodded.
"You're not seriously thinking of not going?! Mrs. Carter's about to retire!" She widened her eyes dramatically.
Before I could respond, she began her bombardment of information:
"She's 65 and officially retiring this year. This birthday party was organized by us old classmates, and over a dozen people have already confirmed. Do you know how disappointed she'll be if you don't show up?"
I hesitated. "Tomorrow's a workday, I might have work..."
"You can't spare even one day?" Peyton interrupted, her voice rising an octave. "Sienna, are you serious?"
I opened my mouth to explain, but she gave me no chance.
"Besides, Mrs. Carter was so good to you back then. If it weren't for her during your senior year, you wouldn't have made it through."
That sentence hit me like a hammer to the chest.
Senior year, after my grandmother died, I nearly collapsed. Besides Hayes staying by my side day and night, it was Hazel who gave me shelter at school—she let me hide in her classroom during lunch, away from those caring or curious gazes; she never pressed me about my condition, just provided psychological support, making sure I was okay.
That unspoken tenderness had saved me back then.
After a long silence, I said quietly, "I'll try to get time off."
"That's more like it." Peyton's tone softened a bit.
After hanging up, I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes.
I knew I would go. Not because of Peyton's pressure, but because I truly owed Hazel an attendance.
I sat at my desk, opened my email, and began writing a schedule adjustment to Byron.
I'd prepared myself for rejection, even drafted an explanation: "This is my high school homeroom teacher's last gathering before retirement, it's personally significant to me."
But the email I finally sent had only one sentence:
【Mr. Reyes, I need to step away tomorrow afternoon for an important personal matter. I'll make sure the testing schedule remains unaffected.】
After hitting send, I stared at the screen, waiting for a reply. Mentally calculating what reasons I'd use to argue if rejected.
But less than five minutes later, Byron's response popped up:
【No problem. Hayes has canceled training tomorrow as well.】
I froze.
I'd expected to be questioned about the reason, asked to make up work progress, or even warned that "taking leave casually during the project period is inadvisable."
But Byron had instantly approved it.
I stared at that email, my mind spinning through several loops, then instinctively replied:
【Is Hayes alright?】
The question carried obvious probing intent. I didn't even realize why I was asking this.
Byron's response was brief:
【He said it's a personal matter. I don't know the specifics.】
I stared at the words "personal matter" on the screen, an indescribable feeling rising in my chest.
Hayes suddenly suspending training didn't fit his usual pattern of "desperate rehabilitation."
I convinced myself: maybe the Sterling family needs him to attend something. That kind of top-tier tycoon family gathering should be more important than training.
I didn't think much more, closed the email, and breathed a sigh of relief.
At least I didn't have to worry about the schedule adjustment anymore.