Chapter 5: Don’t Play With Me
991 Words
Evelyn did not fall for me immediately.
She was harder to move than I expected.
I sent her flowers.
She had the front desk return them.
I asked her to dinner.
She said she was busy.
I texted her at midnight and said my stomach hurt.
Ten minutes later, she sent me a list of medicine and the address of the nearest pharmacy.
Calm.
Restrained.
Like an adult dealing with a child’s sudden prank.
But I knew she was not completely unmoved.
Because she started avoiding me.
Whenever I went to the executive office, she found an excuse to print documents.
Whenever there was a meeting, she sat as far away from me as possible.
When my father asked her to help me learn a project, she sent all the materials to my email and explained them one by one.
Everything could be done without seeing me.
Adrian heard about it and sneered.
“She’s afraid of you?”
I said, “She’s afraid of herself.”
Adrian glanced at me.
“You seem to understand her very well.”
I did not answer.
He closed his laptop.
“Chloe, don’t go too far.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Every time you say that, you don’t.”
I looked at him.
“Are you regretting letting me into this?”
He was silent for a moment.
“A little.”
I smiled.
“Too late.”
It was too late.
Because I had started enjoying this closeness.
Not Evelyn herself.
I told myself that.
I enjoyed watching cracks appear in her calm surface.
She clearly wanted to retreat.
But every time I needed something, she appeared.
When my stomach hurt, she told me to see a doctor.
The next day, there was a box of medicine and a bag of orange candies on my desk.
When old employees in the strategy department made things difficult for me, she said nothing at the time.
That afternoon, those employees were transferred to the hardest project outside the city.
When I worked late and the office lights suddenly went out, I sat alone in the dark.
Footsteps sounded outside.
The door opened.
Evelyn stood there holding a small lamp.
Warm yellow light fell across her face.
“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
“Power outage.”
She frowned.
“The whole floor didn’t lose power.”
I smiled.
“Maybe I’m unlucky.”
She walked in, placed the lamp on the table, and pushed a lunchbox toward me.
“Eat.”
I opened it.
Porridge and several light side dishes.
“You made this?”
“Bought it.”
“Oh.”
I took a spoonful.
It tasted good.
I looked up at her.
“Evelyn, acting like this will make me misunderstand.”
She stood beside the desk and looked down at me.
“Misunderstand what?”
“That you care about me.”
She smiled faintly.
“Miss Sterling, you are Mr. Sterling’s daughter. Taking care of you is my job.”
“Is taking care of my father also your job?”
Her smile faded.
I knew I had hit her where it hurt.
So I pressed harder.
The more she hurt, the more it proved she cared.
Evelyn was silent for a moment.
Then she suddenly bent down.
Her scent surrounded me.
My heartbeat missed one beat.
She was close.
Close enough for me to see the tiny mole near the corner of her eye.
She asked softly, “Chloe Sterling, what exactly do you want from me?”
I tightened my grip on the spoon.
“Guess.”
She looked at me.
Then she raised her hand.
Her thumb brushed the corner of my lips.
A bit of porridge had stuck there.
Her fingertip was cool.
My whole body stiffened.
Evelyn wiped it away and straightened.
Her voice was calm.
“Don’t play with me.”
She turned to leave.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Evelyn.”
She stopped.
I looked up at her.
“What are you afraid of?”
She did not turn around.
I continued, “Afraid my father will know? Afraid the company will know? Or afraid you’ll realize you want to play too?”
Her wrist tightened in my palm.
I stood and walked around to face her.
“You dare to be with my father. Why don’t you dare to be with me?”
She finally looked at me.
Her eyes were cold as ice.
“Because you are different from him.”
“How?”
She said, “He wants my body. I can give it.”
My breath caught.
“He wants my smile. I can act. He wants obedience. I can pretend.”
“But you are different, Chloe Sterling.”
She stared at me.
“What you want is my loss of control.”
My throat tightened.
She was right.
I wanted her to lose control.
I wanted her to step down from my father’s side.
I wanted her to admit she was not untouchable.
I wanted her to make a mistake for me.
But for some reason, when she said it out loud, I felt exposed.
Like my darkest thoughts had been dragged under bright light.
I slowly released her wrist.
“Will you?”
She looked at me without answering.
I asked, “Evelyn, will you lose control for me?”
A long silence passed.
So long I thought she would never answer.
Finally, she smiled.
“No.”
She said, “Miss Sterling, people like me know when to stop.”
That night, she left without hesitation.
I stood alone in the office.
The cool feeling of her wrist still remained in my palm.
I told myself not to rush.
The people who know when to stop are often the ones most afraid of debts they cannot calculate.
And I would become the debt Evelyn Hart could never calculate.
- Writer
