Chapter 117 His Worry
Alison's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly pulled herself together. Instead of directly answering whether she would meet him or not, she simply said, "I promised the kids I'd come home after working late."
"Working late?" He chuckled, finding it hard to believe. He knew her so-called overtime was just an excuse to be with him.
Her face turned red. "I don't want the kids to get the wrong idea." She wrapped herself in the bedsheet and cautiously walked toward the hallway leading to the bathroom.
"Hold up!" he suddenly shouted from the bed, making her turn around, startled. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Grab some clothes from the closet. They're clean, some haven't even been worn. They should fit you." He stubbed out his cigarette and reached for another.
"Jack, smoking too much is bad for your health," she finally couldn't help but say. It was something she had wanted to mention for a while.
"Hmph, I'm not your responsibility. Smoking is my business, not yours. Just get dressed." He sneered.
She stood by the bed, knowing where the clothes were, but reluctant to wear them. "I don't want to be anyone's substitute, so I don't want to wear someone else's clothes."
He hadn't expected her to refuse like that. A flicker of interest crossed his eyes as he looked at her again. "Then wear mine. But I doubt you'd dare walk out of here in a man's clothes."
"Fine, I'll wear yours." She made up her mind quickly. When she entered the apartment, she had vowed that this time, she wouldn't be a second Emily. So, she'd rather wear Jack's clothes.
"The second drawer in the closet by the window has underwear. They're all new," he added.
"Are they Emily's?" she asked involuntarily, her tone tinged with resistance.
"Heh, no." His answer made her smile. This little woman seemed somewhat endearing, at least enough to make him not dislike her as much.
"Okay, I'll wear them." She walked to the closet, and he turned on the bedside lamp. The dim light made it easier to hide their expressions, which neither wanted the other to see.
She opened the drawer and found sets of underwear in various styles—lace, petite, and suggestive. She had thought they were for Emily, but the different sizes proved otherwise. These weren't Emily's.
"So many," she murmured.
"They're all new. The old ones were used up," he explained, recalling his decision after that day in the woods—to bring a different woman back every day and enjoy himself on this big bed. He had even prepared various sizes of underwear as a parting gift. However, the first time he brought a woman to this apartment, he failed. Here, he couldn't be interested in anyone but the woman in front of him.
Alison paused, quickly understanding his implication. She didn't want to delve into it, as it would only hurt more. She swiftly chose a set of underwear. Though she knew it was his way of humiliating her, she chose to face it rather than run away.
She stood up, letting the sheet fall, and calmly put on the underwear with her back to him. She didn't want him to see her vulnerability, so she had to be strong.
After putting on the underwear, she continued to face away from him. "Where are your clothes?"
"In the same closet," he replied, smoking and staring at her graceful back. Her silhouette stirred something in him again.
She picked up his shirt and slipped it on. The faint scent of the fabric and the oversized fit made her look even more petite, like she was wearing a straight-cut dress.
This reminded him of another woman in a straight-cut nightgown. He was momentarily dazed, the cigarette burning to the end, the heat making him quickly toss it into the ashtray. The sound of the cigarette hitting the water brought him back to reality. He realized it was impossible because Emily didn't speak German, French, or Japanese.
Alison glanced at the clock on the wall, knowing she had to leave soon. She said softly, "Jack, I'm leaving."
"Whatever," he said, glancing at her, doubting she would really dare to walk out in his shirt like a dress.
But she did. She put on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and quickly left Jack's apartment. She closed the door carefully, afraid he might chase after her.
He didn't chase her. He just watched her leave, his thoughts drifting back over three years.
Why was that woman so deeply etched in his memory, impossible to forget?
Alison's arrival made those memories even clearer, giving him a splitting headache.
He rushed to the bathroom, turned on the cold water, hoping to wash away the memories, but they only became more vivid.
Frustrated, he returned to the bed, the room still filled with the scent of their recent intimacy, reminding him of the woman who had just left.
Without hesitation, he picked up his phone and dialed her number.
Alison, running out of the apartment, heard her phone ring. Thinking it was the kids, she quickly took it out. But just as she touched the screen, the phone died.
She thought, it must be the kids looking for her.
Wearing the oversized shirt, Alison ran desperately, hoping to catch a cab and get home quickly so the kids wouldn't worry.
Jack frowned as he put down the phone, puzzled why she didn't answer. He wanted to tell her about his plans for her tomorrow.
But she didn't answer.
He could have called tomorrow, but her image kept flashing in his mind. Unable to resist, he impulsively got out of bed, quickly dressed, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out of the apartment.
Even he couldn't believe he was doing this, but he really did chase after her.
Driving his Lamborghini out of the parking lot, he chuckled to himself. Maybe it was time to get a new car.
This car's end would symbolize the end of that woman in his heart.
After driving out of the building, Jack couldn't find Alison on the street, thinking she might have already caught a cab.
He recalled where Alison lived and sped in that direction.
Driving fast, he scanned the streets, determined to find the silly woman running in his shirt.
He thought, she couldn't have gotten far.
Turning at an intersection, he finally saw Alison's figure, feeling relieved.
What a foolish woman, running like she was being chased by bad guys.
Jack quickly pulled up behind Alison and honked. She heard it but thought it was just a passing car signaling her to use the crosswalk. So, she stepped onto the crosswalk and kept running. She couldn't catch a cab, but she was desperate to get home to see her kids' peaceful faces and not worry them.
Jack rolled down the window, sighing inwardly: How could this woman be so clueless, not even looking back to see his car?
"Get in!" he called out, thinking she should recognize his voice and the car.