Collide

Chapter 9

Vermont eventually returned to the kitchen, his expression once again calm and composed.

He stopped beside the table and gave Catherine an apologetic smile.

"Sorry for leaving for a while, Auntie. Something came up at the company. I just needed to give my personal assistant a few

instructions."

Catherine waved her hand dismissively.

"Don't bother apologizing. Now, sit down and enjoy your meal while it's still warm."

Vermont smiled and pulled his chair closer to the table.

His eyes immediately fell on the plate of fried fish.

"I honestly can't remember the last time I ate fried fish."

Catherine laughed.

"Why? Don't they serve it where you live?"

"They do. But somehow, it doesn't taste the same."

Catherine smiled.

"If you were living around here, I'd cook for you anytime."

Vermont's smile softened.

"I'd definitely take you up on that, Auntie."

He glanced across the table.

Therese was quietly eating, apparently more interested in her breakfast than in their conversation.

Vermont watched her for a moment before speaking.

"Therese."

She looked up.

"Yes?"

He put his spoon down.

"I owe you an apology."

Therese's expression changed slightly.

"For what?"

Vermont leaned back in his chair.

"For the way I acted when we first met again at the facility."

Therese remained silent.

"I realize I was too harsh."

He gave her a restrained smile.

"After twenty years, seeing you again brought back a lot of things. I suppose I didn't handle the moment very well."

Therese studied his face.

She hadn't expected an apology.

"It's alright."

"No, it wasn't."

His answer was surprisingly direct.

"I could tell you were uncomfortable, and I made it worse."

Therese lowered her gaze to her plate, quietly moving her spoon through the rice before finally looking at Vermont again.

There was no anger in her expression.

Only uncertainty.

"You don't need to apologize, Vermont."

He looked at her attentively.

Therese gave a small, almost embarrassed smile.

"Honestly, I don't even know how I'm supposed to act around you."

Vermont remained silent.

She continued, choosing her words carefully.

"It's been twenty years. That's a very long time."

Her eyes briefly traveled over him before returning to her plate.

"And now, you're... different."

She hesitated.

"You're successful. You're rich. You're a powerful businessman. You're not the boy I used to know anymore."

Vermont's expression softened slightly.

Therese let out a quiet breath.

"So, if I seem distant or awkward, it's not because I want to be rude to you."

She looked directly at him.

"I simply don't know how to treat you anymore."

For once, Vermont didn't immediately respond.

Her words had caught him off guard.

Vermont studied Therese for a moment before giving her a reassuring smile.

"I'm still Vermont, Therese. The same Vermont you knew before."

He leaned back slightly in his chair.

"You don't have to feel intimidated just because my life turned out differently."

Therese gave him a faint smile.

"I'm trying."

"Then don't overthink it."

Before Therese could respond, Catherine suddenly smiled from across the table.

"Oh, you two..."

Both of them looked at her.

Catherine shook her head, a nostalgic smile spreading across her face.

"I really thought you would end up together."

Therese immediately coughed hard.

She quickly reached for her glass of water.

Vermont's eyebrows lifted as he watched her.

Catherine frowned.

"Therese? What's happening to you?"

Therese took a sip of water and tried to catch her breath.

"Nothing, Mom. I almost choked."

Catherine looked at her suspiciously.

"On what?"

Therese glanced briefly at Vermont before looking away.

"The food."

Vermont lowered his gaze, hiding a small smile.

Catherine, completely unaware of the awkwardness she had created, simply continued eating.

"Well, chew properly next time."

Therese nodded quickly.

"Yes, Mom."

Across the table, Vermont finally allowed himself a quiet chuckle.

Therese gave him a warning look.

"What's funny?"

Vermont shook his head innocently.

"Nothing."

But the faint amusement in his eyes told her otherwise.

Therese set her glass down and looked at her mother.

"Mom, let's just forget about the past."

Catherine looked at her.

Therese gave a small, uncomfortable smile.

"We were children back then. Whatever we had was just... something childish."

Vermont remained quiet, listening. He didn't like what she was saying.

Therese continued, her voice gentle but firm.

"And besides, it's inappropriate to talk about things like that now."

She glanced briefly at Vermont before looking away.

"I was a nun, and Vermont was a married man."

The words seemed to settle heavily over the table.

Catherine's expression changed.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything bad. I'm sorry Vermont if it displeases you."

Vermont finally broke his silence.

"It's alright, Auntie. I don't mind talking about the past."

Catherine looked at him, relieved.

Vermont paused for a moment, then glanced toward Therese.

"And besides..."

He leaned back slightly.

"I'm divorced."

Therese looked at him.

Vermont gave a faint smile.

"So technically, I'm single."

Catherine's eyebrows lifted.

Vermont continued calmly.

"I don't see anything wrong with mentioning what happened when we were younger."

His eyes remained on Therese.

"It was part of our lives. I don't think we need to pretend it never happened."

Therese was quiet.

She didn't know how to respond.

Vermont picked up his spoon again, his expression relaxed.

"We're just remembering the past, aren't we?"

Catherine smiled.

"Exactly."

Therese lowered her eyes to her plate.

Vermont ate quietly for a few moments before something crossed his mind.

He looked toward Catherine.

"By the way, Auntie... what happened to Uncle Caleb? Where is he now?"

Catherine didn't even flinch.

She simply continued eating.

"Don't mention that bastard."

Vermont frowned slightly at her blunt response.

But Catherine quickly shrugged, as though the subject no longer carried any weight for her.

"I'm over it. That was a long time ago."

Therese glanced at her mother before answering Vermont herself.

"Dad has his own family now."

Vermont turned toward her.

"His own family?"

Therese nodded.

"He cheated on Mom. They separated, and eventually he built another family."

Catherine calmly reached for another piece of fish.

"And that's that."

She said it so casually that Vermont looked at her.

There was no sadness in her face.

No anger.

Just acceptance.

"You really moved on," Vermont remarked.

Catherine smiled.

"Of course. What good would it do me to keep carrying something that happened decades ago?"

Therese smiled faintly.

"That's Mom. She doesn't hold grudges forever."

Catherine laughed.

"I have better things to do."

Vermont nodded slowly.

"I think a lot of men are like that nowadays" Therese said.

Vermont looked at her.

She continued, her voice calm but thoughtful.

"They see someone beautiful, become attracted to her, and suddenly they forget all the promises they made to the person

waiting at home."

Catherine listened quietly.

Therese sighed.

"And it's not only the husband and wife who suffer. Families fall apart. Children grow up wondering what happened to their

parents."

She lowered her gaze.

"Sometimes people don't realize how much damage one decision can cause."

Vermont stopped eating.

For a moment, he simply stared at his plate.

Her words had struck somewhere he didn't expect.

"That's reality nowadays, Therese. But it doesn't mean all men are like that."

Therese looked at him.

Therese gave a small, almost playful smile.

You are one of them. Unfaithful!

"Well, that's one dilemma I don't have to worry about anymore."

Vermont looked at her.

She gestured lightly toward herself.

"I'm a nun, remember?"

Catherine smiled.

Therese continued, her tone becoming more thoughtful.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not a man-hater. I just don't want to complicate my life with relationships anymore."

She took a sip of water before continuing.

"Life is too short to spend it worrying about someone else's promises or wondering if they'll keep them."

Vermont tightened his hold into his spoon.

As if she also keep her promises to me twenty years ago...

"But to be fair, Therese, it's not only men who fail to keep their promises."

Therese looked at him.

Vermont continued calmly.

"Women can break promises too. Sometimes they leave, sometimes they change their minds, and sometimes they disappear

without giving the person they left behind an explanation."

His tone remained casual, but the meaning behind his words was unmistakable.

Therese's expression slowly changed.

Catherine suddenly glanced toward the clock.

"Oh, I'm finished eating. I need to go to the store and arrange everything. Some of the things still need to be organized."

She stood and picked up her plate.

Therese looked at her.

"You're going now, Mom?"

"Yes, dear. I don't want to leave everything until later."

She smiled at both of them.

"You two finish your breakfast. I'll be at the store."

"Alright, Mom."

Catherine grabbed her things and headed toward the door.

Vermont smiled politely.

"Take your time, Auntie."

Catherine nodded and walked out.

The door closed behind her.

Silence immediately settled over the dining table.

Therese looked down at her plate.

Vermont leaned back slightly in his chair.

For the first time that morning, there was no Catherine to soften the conversation between them.

They were alone.

And suddenly, the breakfast felt very different.

Therese broke the silence.

"Vermont, why are you here?"

He didn't move, but his eyes tracked her every breath.

"I just lost here."

He grinned.

"I don't want to be rude," she said, "but I feel something isn't right."

Vermont's lips curled into a predatory slant that didn't reach his cold eyes.

Therese's voice cut through the quiet room, thin but steady. "Vermont, why are you here?"

The question hung between them like a blade. Vermont didn't answer right away. His eyes moved over her face, her throat, the fabric

that covered her body, slow and deliberate, like he was peeling it away layer by layer. The polite mask he'd worn for Catherine was

gone. What remained was raw, cold, and hungry.

Therese couldn't bear the way he stared at her—like she was already naked beneath that her clothes. She pushed her chair back,

ready to stand and escape that gaze.

Vermont reached out and caught her wrist before she could rise. His grip was firm, unyielding.

"Stay."

Therese froze. The word wasn't a request. It was an order.

Vermont's thumb pressed against her pulse, feeling it race. He kept her arm pinned to the table, fingers digging just enough to remind

her she wasn't free to leave. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower, tracing the line of her collar where the stiff white fabric met

skin.

"Take your hands off."

Therese tried to pull her arm back, but he held tighter, chair scraping as he leaned closer. The breakfast dishes sat between them,

untouched now. Vermont's other hand rested on the table, fingers drumming once, twice, before he spoke again.

He released her wrist only to slide his hand up her forearm, feeling the tremor under her skin.

"Sit down, Therese. We're not done."

The command left no room for argument. Vermont watched her, waiting, his expression hard and unreadable except for the heat that

burned underneath. The silence stretched, thick with everything unsaid between them.

"Remember the golden rule, Vermont," Therese said, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. "Do good to others."

Vermont let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Huh."

He loosened his grip, his fingers sliding off her skin. Therese didn't waste a second. She bolted upright, the chair legs letting out a

sharp tone against the floor as she lunged toward the kitchen exit.

She almost made it. In a blur of motion, Vermont stepped into her path, his large frame cutting off the only way out. He didn't reach

for her this time; instead, he stood there with a relaxed, infuriating confidence, his arms slid casually into his pockets.

Therese stopped short, barely inches from his chest. She could smell his manly scent.

"What do you really want?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to remain steady. "I want to remind you,

Vermont, that I am a nun. Please... don't apply your dirty tricks on me."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Vermont's face. He didn't move an inch, effectively pinning her in place with nothing but his presence.

"I do no harm to you, Sister Therese," he said, the title sounding like a joke on his tongue. "But it seems you're scared."

"Vermont, I don't want to mess with you," Therese said, her voice barely a whisper.

She shifted her weight, her sandals clicking softly on the tile.

"If there is something you need from me, something concerning me... just tell me. Maybe I can help you. Just... just don't

look at me like that."

Vermont let out a low, dark chuckle.

He shifted his weight, leaning slightly closer.

The casual posture of his hands in his pockets didn't hide the intensity of his gaze.

"Why?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, velvet tone.

"It's sinful-"

He cut her words.

"I just can't help staring at you without your habit."

Vermont stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

Therese scrambled backward, her sandals scuffing against the floor.

Each step he took felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, making the air in the room feel thick and suffocating.

She backed up until the edge of the counter pressed hard into her lower back.

There was nowhere left to run. Just as she tried to dart around him, Vermont's hand shot out.

*Thud.*

He slammed his palm against the counter beside her and gripped her waist with the other, his fingers digging firmly into the black

fabric. He yanked her flush against his body, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

"Ah!" she gasped. Before she could recoil, Vermont leaned down, burying his face straight into the crook of her neck.

His hot breath seared her skin, sending a violent shiver through her entire frame.

He inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize her scent beneath the sterile smell of the convent.

"Vermont, please... let me go," she begged, her voice breaking into a sob.

She pushed against his shoulders, her small hands trembling, but he was like a wall of granite. He didn't pull away; instead, he

pressed closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Please!" she whimpered. Vermont remained deaf to her pleas, his grip tightening on her waist, anchoring her to him. He let out a

low, guttural hum of satisfaction against her skin, ignoring everything but the frantic rhythm of her heart drumming against his

chest.

Vermont shifted his head, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. His breath was a hot, humid contrast to the chill of the kitchen, sending

a fresh wave of tremors through her.

"Forgive my sins, Sister," he whispered.

Vermont didn't wait for her to respond. He slid his lips down from her ear to the sensitive curve of her neck, his kiss was hard and

demanding while his palm covered her mouth.

Therese gasped, her head falling back against the counter. She tried to push him away, but her strength was failing, her fingers

merely clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

Therese clenched her palm. If only it's not sin to curse a man...she silently prayed for forgiveness if she will hold grudge to this man

forever.

Then, the pressure changed. Vermont didn't just kiss her; he clamped his lips onto the pale skin of her throat, sucking hard.

He held the suction for several long seconds, marking her with a deliberate, bruising intensity. It was a claim, a dark stain left on her

purity.

Vermont leaned back just enough to look at his handiwork. A deep, reddish-purple mark bloomed vividly against her skin.

"There," he whispered, his voice thick. "Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to...Anyway, that's for the kiss you

failed to give me..."

He looked so dangerous like a beast.

Therese stare at him in horror.

"You didn't gave me what was due to me. Twenty years is a long time...therefore...I'm collecting with interest."