Chapter 59 The Unanswered Number
Tonight, she was going to systematically dismantle all his psychological defenses. She was going to completely break his self-control until he was forced to submit completely, body and soul, so that he would never, ever dare to entertain the thought of another woman again!
They waited in the sterile hospital corridor for over an hour before a nurse finally returned with a thick folder of test results.
The comprehensive blood panel showed that Chloe's baseline blood pressure and certain cellular metabolic markers were hovering at abnormally high levels.
Nathan's jaw tightened. He immediately took the printed report directly to a senior endocrinologist for a private, second opinion.
The doctor thoroughly reviewed the chart, explaining that her elevated markers were highly likely a severe, delayed physical stress reaction caused by undergoing such an extreme, traumatic temporal transition. He assured Nathan that it was nothing life-threatening, but insisted that she needed strict follow-up observation and prescribed a mild, non-narcotic medication to relieve her sudden bouts of dizziness and nausea.
Standing by the pharmacy counter, Chloe stared down at the small orange bottle in her hand, feeling a bizarre mix of amusement and exhaustion. "I guess my body is finally catching up to the timeline," she murmured. "It's been over a month. My biological reaction is operating on serious dial-up speed."
"The human body's neurological stress response can sometimes be severely delayed until it finally feels safe," Nathan said, his voice tense as he pocketed her medical chart. "I want you to rest at home for the next few days. Don't go back to the office."
"Absolutely not. I've already taken an entire week off without notice," Chloe shook her head firmly. "Even with Michael treating me like a bizarre science experiment, I can't just casually blow off my job."
Nathan let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. But I'm driving you to the building. And you will call my personal cell the absolute second you feel dizzy again."
Thirty minutes later, the Bentley idled smoothly at the curb in front of the sleek, glass-fronted marketing agency.
"Got it, Professor!" Chloe chirped, hopping out of the passenger seat. She walked around the front of the car and tapped sharply on the driver's side window.
Nathan rolled the tinted glass down. Chloe immediately leaned into the frame, invading his personal space. Her golden-brown eyes locked onto his, dropping her voice to a dark, husky whisper. "You better physically prepare yourself tonight. I have not forgiven you for your little confession yet."
Nathan’s breath hitched slightly. "Prepare for what?"
"What do you think?" Chloe winked at him, reaching in to lightly trace the sharp line of his cheekbone with her fingernail. "I have absolutely perfect recall of exactly what our honeymoon phase was like. You'd better aggressively refresh your memory, because you do not get to play the innocent victim with me anymore."
A dark, violent flush instantly exploded across Nathan's cheekbones. He cleared his throat loudly, shooting her a lethal, embarrassed glare. "Get to work, Chloe! Stop talking like a complete menace on a public street."
Chloe just laughed, a wicked, triumphant sound. She leaned further into the window, aggressively planting a quick, hard kiss directly on his lips. "You can't escape me anyway. Bye, sweetie."
Nathan violently raised an eyebrow at the pet name, aggressively rolling the window up to hide his face. "That is aggressively cheesy," he grumbled to the empty cabin. Yet, as he pulled back into Chicago traffic, the helpless, brilliant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was completely impossible to hide.
When Chloe stepped off the elevator and walked into the bustling open-plan office, Joshua nearly plowed right into her with a massive stack of marketing analytics. "Hey! Chloe! Where the hell did you disappear to this week?"
"I took an emergency trip back to my hometown in Minnesota. But I brought everyone some local souvenirs!" She smiled radiantly, walking into the bullpen and distributing heavy paper bags onto her coworkers' desks. "Nothing fancy, just some giant roasted pecans from my county. Try them! They're super fragrant."
"Oh, thank you so much! These are amazing," Joshua and the junior staff eagerly took the bags, thanking her repeatedly.
"Where's Michael? I don't see his terrifying glare anywhere," Chloe noted, glancing toward the large corner office, which was completely empty.
"Not sure. He hasn't come in at all today," Joshua shrugged.
"No way. That guy is entirely obsessed with micromanaging us. How could he just skip a Tuesday?" Chloe frowned, finding that genuinely hard to believe.
"He's probably just out schmoozing high-end clients," Joshua speculated, turning back to his spreadsheets.
Chloe worked quietly at her cubicle until noon, when the heavy glass doors finally swung open and Michael stormed into the office.
He looked like absolute hell. His usually immaculate tie was loosened, and there were deep, bruised bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept a single minute.
Chloe immediately grabbed a bag of the roasted pecans and followed him into his private office.
"Michael, I brought some local treats back from my hometown. I'll just leave them on your desk so you can snack when you're stressed," she offered politely.
Michael collapsed into his leather desk chair, eyeing the large bag with absolute disdain. "Did you completely forget that we are literally from the exact same state? Why the hell are you bringing me Minnesota pecans? I've been eating these since I was five years old—they've nearly chipped all my molars."
"I remember! But I brought bags for the entire bullpen. It would've been incredibly rude to specifically exclude the boss!" Chloe laughed, completely unaffected by his bad mood.
Michael shot her a dark glare. "Listen to me. This isn't 2003 anymore. You do not need to be so sickeningly considerate with your corporate colleagues. It is completely unnecessary and they will just use it against you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Chloe replied with an easy smile. She had realized over the past month that, while Michael possessed an incredibly abrasive, hostile exterior, he wasn't genuinely a bad guy. He had aggressively protected her job while she was missing, and once you understood his cynical armor, he was actually quite manageable.
Michael yawned violently, waving his hand to dismiss her. "Get out of my office."
Chloe didn't move an inch. "You look completely exhausted."
"Well, you've been off having a great vacation for an entire week, haven't you? I've been doing the workload of two people and pulling all-nighters just to cover your accounts. How the hell could I not be exhausted?" Michael snapped, rubbing his temples. "Go get me a black coffee."
"Sure thing, boss." Chloe quickly walked to the breakroom, brewed a double shot of espresso, and brought it back.
Michael snatched the mug and downed half the scalding liquid in three gulps.
Chloe turned to leave, but her hand lingered on the doorknob. She hesitated, turning back to face him. "Michael... have you heard absolutely anything about George?"
Michael froze. He slowly lowered his mug, his eyes turning glacial. "I don't know anything, and I absolutely do not want to know. Didn't I explicitly order you to never mention that man's name in my presence?"
Chloe clicked her tongue, running an anxious hand through her hair. "Look, I know I shouldn't have brought him up... but I ran into a journalist at the airport. He told me George has completely disappeared."
"Missing?" Michael scoffed, his expression hardening into absolute, impenetrable stone. "He was missing for twenty-three goddamn years. Isn't it perfectly normal that the coward is nowhere to be found now?"
Seeing his brutally indifferent, cold demeanor, Chloe opened her mouth, hesitated, and then pressed gently. "Michael... maybe you should file a police report or try to find him. He is a fifty-year-old man who just woke up in an entirely alien timeline. He doesn't know how this world works."
"And what the hell is that to me?" Michael lifted his head, his gaze burning with a vicious, defensive rage. "He never supported me for a single day of my life. He abandoned me. Why should I suddenly be financially and emotionally responsible for babysitting him now?"
Seeing his absolute, ironclad refusal, Chloe knew she couldn't push any further.
It was a deeply traumatic, private family matter. She had absolutely no right to meddle in his grief.
"Alright then. I'll just get back to my desk."
"Mhm," Michael grunted, refusing to lift his head, aggressively typing on his keyboard.
As Chloe walked out, she stole one final glance back at him through the glass. His expression remained entirely impassive, perfectly projecting the illusion that he genuinely didn't give a damn.
But the absolute second the office door clicked shut, Michael completely stopped typing.
He stared blankly at the glowing monitor, a deep, agonizing knot forming between his brows. His chest heaved. He violently yanked his smartphone out of his pocket and aggressively scrolled down to his blocked contacts list.
Sitting at the very top was an unsaved, ordinary phone number.
He stared at the digits, his thumb hovering over the screen, completely paralyzed. Then, with a sudden, jerky movement, he swiped the number off the blocked list. He slammed the phone face-down onto his desk and desperately tried to resume typing his email.
But his mind was completely spiraling. His hand kept involuntarily drifting back toward the dark screen.
Finally, consumed by a vicious spike of irritation, he slammed his fist on the desk and aggressively hit the intercom button. "Joshua. Get in here right now."
Joshua scrambled into the office, terrified. "Yes, Michael?"
"Hmm," Michael didn't look up, just holding out his open palm. "Give me your phone."
"Huh?" Joshua blinked, completely bewildered.
Michael violently tapped his knuckles against the mahogany desk, demanding speed.
Joshua reluctantly pulled his personal phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, handing it over.
Michael snatched the device. His fingers flew across the keypad, aggressively dialing the exact ten-digit number he had just unblocked from his own phone. He held Joshua's phone to his ear, his heart pounding violently against his ribs.
The line rang. And rang. And rang.
It went straight to an automated, generic voicemail. No one picked up.
Michael violently ended the call and tossed the phone back to Joshua, his face a mask of furious disappointment. "Get out."
"Oh... okay," Joshua muttered, deeply baffled. He had been screamed at to come in for absolutely no reason, and dismissed just as mysteriously. Scratching his head, he walked out, having absolutely no clue what kind of psychological breakdown his boss was currently having.
That afternoon, Chloe and Joshua were assigned to leave the office together to oversee a scheduled commercial photo shoot for a client.
When their Uber finally arrived at the location, Chloe was shocked to discover that the shoot was actually taking place on the sprawling campus of a private middle school—the exact same academy Mason attended.
The production crew was setting up lighting equipment in an abandoned, historical classroom building behind the main campus.
After efficiently finishing her assigned logistics tasks, Chloe checked her watch. It was 2:30 PM. She decided to go check on Mason.
The last time she had snooped over his shoulder while he was doing homework at the mansion, she had noticed his notebook header listed: "Mr. Todd, 8th Grade Advanced Science, Room 204."
Using that mental clue, she slipped away from the set, successfully navigating the bustling hallways until she made her way up to the second floor of the main academic building.
When she arrived outside Room 204, the heavy wooden door was shut. A lecture was currently in session.
She quietly tiptoed up to the narrow observation window built into the door and peered inside. Over thirty teenagers were sitting at modern lab desks in the dimly lit room, watching a slide presentation.
Chloe had logically assumed that, because Mason was exceptionally tall for his age, he would be relegated to the very back row. She scanned the dark room for a while before finally spotting him sitting front and center in the third row.
He was sitting completely upright, intensely focused, his eyes locked on the whiteboard as he methodically took rapid, detailed notes.
The absolute, hyper-focused intensity on his young face bore a terrifying, striking resemblance to Nathan when he used to study in the university library.
Chloe stood at the window, smiling softly, watching him for five solid minutes. Not wanting to humiliate him in front of his friends, she quietly stepped back and waited in the hall.
Only when the loud, shrill bell finally rang, and students began pouring out, did she approach the open door.
"Hey, Mason!" she called out cheerfully.
Mason, who was shoving his science textbook into his backpack, froze. He looked up.
The absolute second he saw her standing in his middle school hallway, his brow furrowed in absolute, unfiltered horror.