Chapter 12 Romance and Gentleness
Alison was stunned the moment the words left her mouth.
Jack's thin lips curled into a slight, inquisitive smile as he watched her.
Alison knew that if she didn't comply, Jack would continue to be suspicious of her.
But she really needed the name "Emily" to protect herself.
Biting her lip, Alison made up her mind.
"Sweetheart, do you want me to help you?" he asked gently, his voice unusually tender, offering her an unprecedented sense of romance and affection throughout the evening.
But this romance and affection were like blooming poppies—beautiful to look at, but dangerous to indulge in.
Otherwise, it would become an addiction she couldn't escape.
Because they only had three months together.
She suddenly wondered if his unusual behavior was just a way to test her.
The thought made her panic.
To hide her anxiety and avoid raising his suspicions, she didn't answer his question directly. Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Jack, I'm tired."
Now, she was the one adjusting his half-open pajamas, not him undressing her.
Her heart raced. Despite having gone through this yesterday, she was still afraid of seeing that look in his eyes.
She tried to appear calm and composed, her fingers gently lifting the hem of his pajamas, while the man in front of her simply watched, his gaze like he was admiring a beautiful painting.
As the pajamas slipped off, Alison, to cover her embarrassment, suddenly fell into Jack's arms. The series of actions seemed smooth but required all her courage.
Her heart pounded like a drum. Both of them knew what was about to happen.
She slowly closed her eyes, her voice as soft as water, "Jack, hold me."
As she said this, she told herself she wasn't Alison, but Emily. With this name, she could forget her true self and become the shadow of another woman.
Yes, just a stand-in.
But she was willing to be this stand-in.
Jack smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Emily, you're so sexy."
With that, he scooped her up.
She thought he would carry her to the bedroom.
But he didn't. Instead, he elegantly turned and gently placed her on the couch.
As soon as she sat down, Jack's strong masculine scent enveloped her, and his kiss came down like a storm, invading her mouth.
She responded to his passionate kiss like a docile kitten.
Letting Jack hold her firm breasts, teasing her pink nipples.
If everything was beyond redemption, she was willing to be the moth drawn to the flame, burning herself out in front of him.
At that moment, she felt like a different person, no longer the Alison she used to be.
In the quiet of the night, they cuddled on the couch, her faint scent of red wine lingering in his mind. He finally relaxed, holding her tightly, and whispered, "Sleep."
They say women fall asleep easily after passion.
That night, after he said "sleep," she quickly drifted into slumber.
She even forgot that the somewhat unfamiliar Jack was holding her tightly.
The mental burden of the past few days was taken away by sleep at that moment.
Sleeping was wonderful; she didn't have to think or do anything.
Half-asleep, she thought how great it would be if she could sleep like this forever. That was her wish as she was about to fall asleep.
That night, the living room light stayed on.
When Alison woke up, she found herself not on the living room couch but in the soft bed of the bedroom, covered with a thin sheet.
He was no longer beside her, leaving only a small indentation on the bed, as if his warmth still lingered.
Sunlight streamed through the window. She sat up and saw a corner of a note peeking out from under the ashtray on Jack's bedside table.
Alison pulled it out and read: "I want noodles for dinner."
The simple six words gave her a sense of home. If there were no hidden agendas, it would have felt very warm.
But she knew things weren't that simple.
She opened her laptop again, only to find no replies to her questions in her email.
Her intuition told her that everything was far from simple.
Anxiously, Alison turned on her phone, which had been off for two days. The screen was filled with messages and missed calls from Jackson Harvey.
Seeing them, her heart ached as if pricked by needles.
There was still a long time until evening. Looking around the apartment, she didn't know how to pass each long moment.
But she knew she had to find something to do.
At that moment, she missed Jackson terribly.
She felt she owed him too much, a debt she could never repay in a lifetime.
On the way to the supermarket to buy ingredients, Alison mustered the courage to dial that familiar number—Jackson's number.
As soon as she finished dialing, Jackson quickly answered, "Alison, is that you? Tell me where you are!"
His urgent voice made Alison even more flustered. Her hand shook, and she accidentally pressed the hang-up button.
She wanted to hear his voice but was also afraid to.
Walking aimlessly on the bustling street, Alison reflected on the past two days.
Maybe Jack wasn't so bad after all. At least their relationship was slowly improving.
He hadn't said anything insulting to her again.
But she still couldn't figure out the real reason why she was supposed to stay with Jack.
Besides waiting, she really didn't know what else to do.
That evening, Jack came home on time and ate the noodles she made. Knowing he wanted noodles, she added mushrooms and lean meat to make them more delicious. Watching him eat two big bowls gave her a sense of accomplishment.
From then on, Jack came back to the apartment on time every day, sharing every meal she cooked and spending seemingly romantic nights together. These moments gradually eased her fears, and she no longer felt afraid of him, even starting to get used to his presence.
She never asked about his affairs, feeling that those things wouldn't matter once she left.
Every morning, she made breakfast for him, gradually learning his tastes and remembering the things he liked to eat.
Unknowingly, the distance between them grew closer.