“But don’t you have some idea who your mother might be? Couldn’t you be satisfied with that?” Fret asked.

“I’m not doing this because I’m curious about who my mother is. I want to destroy that pathetic power she chose over me.” Gray flicked his cigarette away in disgust and ground it out with his foot.

“But even if this person acknowledges you as their child, would anything really change?”

“Yes, it would. They could no longer maintain their hypocrisy. If they caused my father’s death, they should have killed me too. If they wanted to hide everything, they should have let me die that day. Having forcibly saved my life, they should take responsibility.”

Fret furrowed his brow at these words.

“Are you prepared to throw everything away?”

“If you want to stop me, you should leave now.”

“You’re still in your storm and stress period, I see.”

“Just now figuring out how immature I am?”

Gray spoke with determination. Fret likewise dropped his half-smoked cigarette and crushed it underfoot.

“From the moment you took me in, my life has belonged to you.”

He bowed his head, exposing his nape as though inviting Gray to strike it at any time. Gray laughed softly at the gesture.

“Just a joke. Still, it’s nice to hear.”

“Marquis Clarence is my enemy too.”

Fret’s eyes shone with unusual seriousness.

* * *

Though little remained of last night’s feast, the cooks had put all their effort into making a thick, delicious hangover stew for breakfast. Debbie scanned the crowd, noticed Gray’s absence, and eventually tracked him down and dragged him back. She seated him beside her.

He sat down reluctantly, having been reviewing manuscripts alone in a corner of the villa. “Why don’t you look after the others instead? There are plenty of people who would find my mere presence here nauseating.”

He still clutched several pages of manuscript in his hand. Debbie snatched them away abruptly. The others watching nearly spat out their stew at this sight. Gray’s eyebrows rose coldly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“When eating, please focus only on eating.”

She was displeased that no one was encouraging him to eat. Though he was a prickly boss, he was clearly growing thinner by the day. It seemed wrong that people avoided him just because they found interacting with him uncomfortable.

Of course, Debbie disliked his cutting remarks too. On days when he constantly nagged her at work, she would go to bed with her ears ringing. But separately, seeing a superior suffering from heartbreak caused by a terrible woman was truly pitiful.

Can’t be helped.

She summoned her inner “Saint Persona D”—the part of herself that listened well to others and agreed with everything. This wasn’t a personality that emerged often. But before her stood a pitiful lamb. A grumpy lamb who wouldn’t admit his own misery, but a wounded lamb nonetheless needed comforting. Her philosophy was that this prevented more severe outbursts later when the lamb grew horns.

From what she could see, Editor Gray was alone in the workplace. He might think he kept others at a distance, but it was the opposite. He simply refused to acknowledge it. Otherwise, people wouldn’t be so indifferent toward him. Even Team Leader Louis, who usually fawned over him, was gulping down hot stew far away, avoiding eye contact.

“Please eat. It’s delicious.”

“No thanks. I’m full.”

Debbie pushed the bowl of stew closer to him.

“I know you haven’t eaten anything.”

Gray pushed the bowl back irritably, treating her concern as trivial meddling.

“Whether I eat or not—”

“All tolerance and patience come from a full stomach.”

Debbie pointed to the manuscript covered in red marks.

“This manuscript is troubling you, isn’t it? Look at it again after you’ve eaten, when you’re more comfortable. It might feel different then.”

Gray felt caught taking out his frustrations on the innocent manuscript. At that moment, Debbie smiled brightly.

“Just one bite.”

She scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his lips, like someone coaxing a child.

“Time continues to flow, and we’re sharing this moment together. Yet there’s someone here who looks everywhere but where we all are.”

Debbie’s voice sounded incredibly gentle. She had been pondering why someone like Gray, who seemed to have everything, would be rejected by such a woman. She tried to imagine what shortcomings he might have had as a partner from that woman’s perspective.

“Company dinners are meant for us to get to know each other and become more comfortable together, right?”

Debbie took the manuscript pages from his hands again and set them down beside him. She hoped that, just for this moment, Gray would find the courage to eat some stew and mingle with people during the short time remaining.

“Even during the drinking party, you kept to yourself, always looking at manuscripts. Now as the dinner comes to an end, everyone is sharing a bowl of stew, but you’re not eating.”

Debbie’s bright green eyes sparkled. Since he always manipulated people with his elegant words, she decided to match his elegance.

She couldn’t blurt out her true thoughts: ‘Everyone else is happily eating, so why are you working so haughtily even at a company dinner?’ Instead, she had to phrase it in the most pleasant way possible.

First, she needed to break down the invisible wall he had built around himself. Because he was prickly to anyone who approached, Debbie had to take the initiative.

“Are we really in the same space?”

Gray watched her lips move slowly. Perhaps it was because he was seeing her outdoors rather than inside. She seemed especially radiant in the sunlight. Once again, he noticed those lips that had once murmured asking to learn about love between men and women.

They reddened slightly, quietly creasing before blooming fully with vitality. Her rhythmic speech reminded him of when he had read her column.

“Freshly bloomed expectations have no substance like smoke, yet they are red and firm… Perhaps the reason men and women desire each other is simpler than we think?”

Debbie’s writing spread through his heart again like a stain of dark wine. His heart began to race. His gaze kept returning to her red lips.

“You always seem so distant, Editor.”

Her face was serious and solemn, like someone who had staked everything on a fleeting moment. Was encouraging someone to eat a spoonful of stew really such a grave matter? For some inexplicable reason, Gray felt his face growing hot.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have felt this emotion if he hadn’t read her column. He had spent a night with her to keep a secret, like paying for services. If only they could have parted ways there. He might have forgotten that night, since she still didn’t recognize him.

But Gray had read what she wrote. In her writing, he was quite a decent person. He found this terribly contradictory. A night with a nameless woman—forgotten by him but treasured by her as a beautiful memory for life. A common yet perennially popular theme.

She had instinctively provided this. Somehow, he felt he could understand why readers were so enthusiastic about her unsophisticated declaration that she would cherish the memory in her column forever.

While he stared blankly, she moved her lips.

“Don’t you want to blend in?”

It sounded provocative, suggesting she wanted to intertwine bodies with him again. Of course, her current intention was simply to encourage him to eat the spoonful of stew she was offering.

“Please, try it. Experience this moment with us. You must.”

At her almost desperate gaze, Gray unconsciously stuck out his tongue and licked the spoon.

Slurp.

An unintended sensual scene unfolded. Debbie couldn’t help but think how erotic he looked. Having offered the spoon only to have him lick it, she found herself in an awkward position.

“Ah!”

She could neither throw the spoon away nor continue holding it. What was she supposed to do when he licked it so provocatively? The bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips as he slightly closed his eyes and lowered his head seemed familiar somehow.

Where had she seen this before?

As she searched her memory, her body involuntarily twitched.

Gray recalled their night together. Her peculiar nasal sound. The nape of his neck that she had scratched felt strangely itchy again.

“Ugh. That gives me goosebumps.”

Benjamin, passing by, blurted out.

“Experience this moment with us. You must. Our rookie sure knows how to say suggestive things to the editor! Are you trying to seduce him?”

Hearing those words, her hastily donned saintly persona fled immediately, unable to bear the embarrassment.

“Urgh!”

She let out a strange cry from shock.

“Seduction?! No! How dare I! I just wanted him to eat some stew!”

“If it’s not true, why is your face bright red?”

Though Benjamin had only meant it as a joke, Debbie’s reaction was extreme. This made him suspect she might have ulterior motives.

“Miss Debbie, why are you acting so friendly with the editor? It’s not just because of the company dinner—you’ve been staring at the editor all the time before this too.”

Gray looked at Debbie with a perplexed expression.

Um… um…

She realized that her concern for Gray had been noticeable to others.

“I wonder why?” Benjamin asked with a sly smile.

Well, since his ex-girlfriend said such terrible things about the editor, I wanted to boost his confidence…

Debbie could only open and close her mouth wordlessly. She worried that mentioning this might hurt Gray again. Was it appropriate to bring up how he couldn’t forget his ex, staking out near her house, being rejected multiple times in public?

“It’s not like that!”

Debbie jumped up and fled to the bathroom.

“Haha?”

Benjamin laughed awkwardly.

“Surely Miss Debbie doesn’t have feelings for the editor?”

“Useless chatter.”

Gray immediately hardened his expression.

“Finish eating and go rest. We have a tight schedule starting tomorrow.”

When Benjamin continued to look at him with a suspicious smile, Gray frowned.

“Should I make it even tighter for you?”

At that, everyone finished their stew so quickly their spoons became invisible.