Chapter 16 This Moment Is Joy and Contentment
That night, after washing up, she lay in bed and messaged her mother, Eleanor.
Eleanor lived abroad; she should be awake by now.
Emma: \[Mom, I got married.\]
Eleanor: \[You just jolted me fully awake! I was half asleep.\]
Emma rolled onto her back, laughing under the covers.
Eleanor: \[Is he handsome? How does he treat you?\]
Emma: \[Pretty good.\]
…
She drifted off mid-chat, phone still in her hand.
Later, when Liam knocked, she didn’t stir.
Standing by her bed, he caught a glimpse of the messages with her mother and smiled faintly. He gently pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.
After washing up, he went to work in the study.
Half-asleep, Emma woke with a need to use the bathroom. She shuffled out of bed and headed down the hall.
As she passed the study, she saw Liam still at his desk, brow furrowed, documents open on the screen.
He wore grey loungewear, top two buttons undone, a hint of his collarbone visible. The cool, refined face behind those rimless glasses met her sleepy gaze.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Why aren’t you resting?”
“There’s still work to get through.”
“Oh,” she murmured, then padded off toward the bathroom.
When she came back, he was just shutting down his computer.
She slipped straight back into bed.
A few minutes later, the mattress dipped. A warm body lay down beside her.
Her heart went wild; she shut her eyes quickly and curled her fingers into the sheets.
“Good night,” he murmured next to her.
…
The next morning.
“Wake up. Breakfast,” he said, smiling as he shook her gently.
Emma rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock.
Does he not run out of energy?
Stay up late, still up early.
He stood by the walk-in closet, changing his shirt as if this were the most natural domestic routine in the world.
She yanked the blanket up a little higher and watched him through the gap.
“Are you coming to the office with me?” he asked, buttoning his cuffs as he walked over.
“No, I—” She stopped, suddenly remembering her car was still at Am Lindenpark.
“Ryan brought your car back last night. It’s in the basement. The keys are on the nightstand,” he said.
“All right,” she replied, eyes still closed.
Only after he’d left did she slowly push back the covers.
Her phone buzzed.
Ryan: \[How does it feel to be pursued by the CEO, Emma?\]
Emma: \[Pursued? I’ll take that as your blessing.\]
She let out a wry little smile.
Downstairs, Zoe had prepared a carefully balanced breakfast. “Here you are, Mrs. Hayes.”
Emma froze for a second at the title, staring at the small thermos in Zoe’s hands.
“Mr. Hayes said you have to carry this with you,” Zoe added.
“All right.” Emma took it and headed for the garage.
One hand on the thermos, marriage certificate still tucked in her bag, she finally let herself admit it:
This strange, chaotic, terrifying, tender moment in time…
was happiness.
“You’re in a great mood today!” Iris leaned in as soon as Emma sat down and studied her rosy complexion.
“Is it that obvious?” Emma chuckled.
“Was Ben proposing? I saw him waiting outside the office with flowers,” Iris teased.
“Ben? That scoundrel?” Emma sneered. “He got involved with Chloe.”
“Oh my!” Iris was astonished. “Where are you staying now? Give me an address so I won’t worry so much.”
“I’m staying with a friend temporarily. I’ll let you know once I find a place,” Emma replied, hiding her marriage from Iris.
“We need to leave two days early for S-Country Fashion Week. Are you ready?” Iris changed the subject.
Emma froze, realizing she had forgotten about it.
“Emma.” Ethan approached her with documents. “Please join me to discuss Fashion Week arrangements with Mr. Hayes.”
“Now?” Emma asked, confused.
“Yes.”
“All right.”
As she stepped onto the 30th floor, anxious tension coiled through her.
“Relax. Mr. Hayes is gentle; he won’t give you any trouble,” Ethan reassured her.
She nodded lightly with a faint smile, then remained silent.
“Knock, knock…”
“Come in.”
Liam slumped onto the sofa, his glasses lazily perched on the bridge of his nose.
Scattered documents littered the desk. His furrowed brow suggested that he was grappling with a difficult problem.
“Mr. Hayes,” Ethan greeted him.
“Sit,” Liam instructed, rubbing his temples.
Ethan and Emma took seats across from him.
“Please review these two sets of materials,” Liam added.
Ryan distributed the documents to them.
Emma scanned the papers, her gaze locking on the word “Muse.”
“Li–Mr. Hayes…” She nearly blurted out his full name.
“Mm.” He looked up and met her gaze.
“The ‘Muse’…” she murmured.
“All of the Fashion Week exhibits came from renowned designers, except that ‘Muse’ was submitted anonymously. I want her profile. We’ll hire her as next year’s guest designer,” he said, and pushed another stack of papers toward them.
Ethan accepted them and shared half with Emma.
Ryan opened a renowned designer’s website and placed his phone on the table. “Look! There’s no contact information on any platform.”
Recognizing the familiar profile picture and sketches, she quickly put it
the phone down with an awkward smile.
“Why seek an external designer at Fashion Week? Ours are all excellent,” she asked.
“‘Muse’ operates on its own terms, occasionally releasing pieces that sell out instantly,” Ryan explained.
“The flight leaves at dawn the day after tomorrow. Pack your bags tomorrow. I’ll send the itinerary later,” Liam said, gazing at Ethan. “Did you finish the design draft I assigned last time?”
Ethan glanced at Emma, and Liam’s gaze followed.
She scrambled to respond.
“Ye–yes.” Her voice trembled slightly.
Truthfully, she was unprepared.
“Am I that scary, Emma?” Liam asked.
“…”
She shook her head.
“Please forgive Emma, Mr. Hayes. It’s normal for her to be nervous. She’s not used to formal meetings,” Ryan explained for her, stifling a giggle.
Liam didn’t respond, merely waving them out.
Emma hurriedly followed Ethan out of the office.