Chapter 60
I watched him drink water, and suddenly a thought flashed through my mind.
I remembered my assistant mentioning in passing that Benjamin really enjoyed wine tasting in private.
"Wait here for a second," I said to him, then turned and headed toward the basement wine cellar.
The White Villa's wine cellar had been personally managed by my mother when she was alive, and it held quite a few rare wines you couldn't easily find on the market.
Going by memory, I found a bottle of Romanée-Conti on the shelf at the very back.
My mother had specifically saved this for my eighteenth birthday, and I'd never had the heart to open it.
But today, I wanted to open it for him.
When I returned to the living room with the bottle and two wine glasses, Benjamin was leaning back on the sofa with his eyes closed, resting.
Hearing the sound, he opened his eyes. When his gaze fell on the wine bottle, a clear flash of surprise and delight crossed those usually calm eyes.
"Looks like I'm lucky today," he said, taking the corkscrew I handed him. His movements were practiced and elegant.
The deep red wine poured into the glasses, releasing a rich fruity aroma.
We didn't turn on the main lights, leaving only a dim floor lamp beside the sofa. Its glow wrapped us both in a warm, intimate circle of light.
We clinked our glasses together with a crisp sound.
"This wine is excellent," he said, gently swirling his glass with genuine appreciation.
"I thought," I said softly, watching the wine-red color swaying in my glass, "our relationship was just a transaction where we each got what we needed, a contract with clearly stated terms."
At this, he looked up at me but didn't speak, just listened quietly.
"But what you've done for me has gone far beyond the contract," I said, meeting his eyes. Those deep eyes seemed magnetic, holding me firmly. "Whether it was getting me out of that tight spot in the conference room, or that night at the west of the city construction site... Benjamin, you're really good to me."
This compliment came straight from my heart.
He seemed not to have expected me to be so direct. His fingers holding the wine glass paused slightly, then he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and looked away.
I even saw that familiar hint of red at the tips of his ears, quietly appearing in the dim lamplight.
This man who could move mountains in the business world, who seemed capable of anything, was for the first time feeling flustered because of a simple compliment from me.
I suddenly found it a bit funny, and the corners of my lips curved up unconsciously.
Slightly tipsy, the atmosphere was just right. I leaned back into the soft sofa, my whole body relaxing.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was that this man gave me enough sense of security, but some words I'd been keeping buried inside came out uncontrollably.
"Today at the Johnson Villa, I saw Michael." I brought up the name without much emotion, as if talking about an insignificant stranger.
Benjamin's eyes sharpened slightly, and that softness I'd just coaxed out of him with my compliment instantly withdrew a bit, taking on a barely noticeable coldness.
I didn't pay attention to it, just kept talking. "Seeing him like that, I just found it laughable. I used to think all those promises he made were real."
I shook my head with a self-mocking smile. "That relationship taught me that people's hearts can change so quickly, and vows can be so cheap."
I wasn't saying this because I still had feelings for the past. It was just that the failed experience was like a thorn, deeply embedded in my subconscious, making me instinctively wary of all intimate relationships.
I looked up at the silent man beside me. The lamplight cast a deep shadow in his eyes.
"So sometimes, I'm scared too," I said, my voice very soft, carrying a fragility I hadn't even noticed myself. "I'm afraid I've misjudged someone, afraid that everything I have now is just a carefully calculated illusion."
After I finished speaking, I felt a bit regretful.
I shouldn't have shown such a weak side in front of him.
The living room fell into a long silence, with only our shallow breathing.
Just when I thought he wouldn't answer, Benjamin put down his wine glass.
He turned around and looked at me seriously, without blinking.
His gaze was deep and earnest, like a night sea that embraced everything, taking in all my anxiety and fear.
"Ophelia," he said, his voice low and clear, each word like a pill to calm my heart, landing heavily on it. "He's not me."
He paused, reached out his hand, and gently wiped away a trace of moisture that had somehow appeared at the corner of my eye with his warm fingertip.
"I won't let you go through that again," he said, looking into my eyes, word by word, making a promise that gave me more peace than any vow could. "I promise."
Those deep eyes were like a night sea that could embrace everything, taking in all my anxiety and fear.
The dim floor lamp in the living room wrapped us in a warm glow.
The wine was going to my head, and the atmosphere became subtle and thick. I didn't say anything more, just leaned back on the sofa, allowing myself to sink into this rare sense of peace.
He seemed to notice my tiredness. He picked up the remote and asked softly, "Want to watch a movie?"
"Sure," I nodded gently.
He chose a slow-paced art film and turned the volume down low.
The large sofa was big enough for us to keep our distance, but after he sat down, he naturally leaned a bit toward me.
I didn't pull away.
We sat like this, close together, shoulder to shoulder, our arms occasionally touching unintentionally, bringing a tingling sensation.
I could clearly feel the body heat coming from him, smell that wood-scented fragrance mixed with a faint wine aroma that made me feel safe.
I didn't really pay attention to what the movie was about.
All my attention seemed to be occupied by the man beside me.
This was a very new experience.
In my twenty-some years of life, I'd been like a tree growing alone in the wilderness, used to facing storms by myself, used to burying all my emotions deep inside.
No one had ever barged into my world so forcefully like he did, yet in such a gentle way, holding up a sky where I could rest for a while.
I don't know how much time passed when his low voice sounded in my ear, breaking the silence.
"Did something upset you today?" His tone was light, with a hint of careful probing, afraid of touching my sensitive nerves.
I turned my head to look at him. The dim light blurred his hard features, leaving only those deep eyes looking at me intently in the darkness, filled with undisguised concern.
I shook my head, my voice a bit hoarse. "Nothing much, just some old business I didn't deal with properly before."