Chapter 115 Coming Down With Something
After his grandfather’s funeral, life slowly began to return to something that looked like normal.
The mansion regained its usual rhythm. Staff resumed their routines, guests stopped coming daily, and the heavy scent of condolence flowers gradually faded from the halls. The silence remained, but it was no longer as suffocating as before.
While Rebecca still continued her work at home, Derek continued going to work, looking at him, he looked composed, calm and perfect, but beneath that calm surface, something else had begun to grow quietly.
Celia.
Her constant presence during the mourning period had not disappeared with the funeral. Instead, it had simply changed form.
It always started with a call.
The first one came in the middle of a board meeting.
Derek’s phone vibrated softly against the polished wooden table. He almost ignored it out of habit, but when his eyes fell on the screen and saw her name, his focus slipped for just a second too long.
"Excuse me," he said curtly, already rising from his seat. "Continue without me for five minutes."
He stepped out into the hallway before answering.
"Hello?"
Her voice on the other end sounded weak, almost breathless. “Derek… I’m sorry to bother you. I didn’t know who else to call.”
His brows furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, when he heard how weak she sounded.
“I think I’m coming down with something,” she murmured softly. “I’ve been feeling dizzy since morning. I tried to rest but it’s getting worse.”
He leaned against the wall, tension creeping into his shoulders. “Did you see a doctor?”
“I don’t want to go alone,” she said quietly. "You know I don't like hospital, maybe I'm thinking too much but Derek I just feel a little scared." She said, her voice broken.
There was a pause.
That word scared did something to him.
Memories of the past resurfaced again: the girl who used to rely on him, who used to call him first whenever she had a problem, who once believed he could fix everything.
“I’ll come check on you,” he heard himself say before fully thinking it through.
Relief filled her voice immediately. “You will? Thank you… I didn’t think you would.”
He ended the call and remained standing there for a moment, staring at his faint reflection in the glass panel beside him. His jaw tightened slightly.
It’s just a conversation, he told himself. Nothing more.
But when he returned to the meeting room, his mind never fully settled back into the discussion.
That evening, instead of driving straight home, he found himself steering toward Celia’s apartment.
Her place was modest but elegant, decorated in soft neutral tones that gave it a calm, intimate atmosphere. When she opened the door, she looked composed but slightly distant, as though she had truly been lost in her thoughts all day.
“You came,” she said softly, stepping aside to let him in.
“Sit down,” he replied automatically. “Have you taken any medication?”
She smiled faintly. “You’re still the same. Always worried.”
He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he checked her temperature, and asked her if she had called any doctor, when she told him yes, he made sure she took her medication.
After making sure she was alright, they sat together in the living room, talking quietly. She spoke about how strange it felt seeing him again after so many years, how everything around them had changed yet some emotions still felt unfinished. She never pushed directly, never demanded anything. She simply talked, letting the past linger between them like an unanswered question.
When he finally left that night, it was already late.
Back at the mansion, Rebecca was waiting in the living room.
"You’re late," she said gently as she stood.
"Work took longer than expected," he replied without hesitation.
The lie came more smoothly than he expected, and the guilt followed almost immediately. He had never imagined there would come a day when lying to her would feel so easy.
She nodded, accepting his words without suspicion. "I saved dinner for you."
He forced a small smile. "Thanks. I’ll eat after a quick shower."
But when he eventually sat at the table, he barely tasted the food.
After that, the calls became more frequent.
Sometimes Celia said she needed advice about a decision. Sometimes she claimed she was feeling overwhelmed and just wanted to talk for a few minutes. Other times, she simply said she missed their conversations and wondered if he could stop by briefly.
And Derek kept going.
Each time, he told himself it was harmless. That he was only helping an old friend who had once meant a lot to him. That what he felt was not love, just confusion tangled with grief and unresolved memories.
But a pattern slowly formed.
Every call from Celia pulled him away from Rebecca.
Every excuse he gave Rebecca pulled him deeper into quiet guilt.