Chapter 7

The familiarity of the mansion embraced him as he ascended the stairs, heading to the room he and Saya once shared. Though driven away by his mother, Saya's memory lingered in that space, drawing Trevor back each time he returned home. The room held a peculiar comfort, a connection to a time when life was simpler.

Entering the room, he lay on the bed and embraced the pillow Saya had once used. The faint scent that once clung to it had dissipated, but the habit persisted. For five minutes, he allowed himself to drown in the bittersweet nostalgia, holding on to the echoes of a past that still tugged at his heart.

Eventually, Trevor rose, changed into more formal attire, and made his way to the main dining hall. The weight of the memories lingered, but duty called. As he descended the stairs, he carried with him the traces of the past, the room's silent witness to the unresolved chapters of his and Saya's shared history.

After the wearisome dinner at the Burton Mansion, Trevor sought refuge in the house he had purchased when Saya left. The guests his mother had invited this time were a loquacious bunch, their chatter lingering like an unwelcome echo. The only exception was a quiet young lady, undeniably pretty, yet there was nothing about her that intrigued Trevor. She seemed to blend into the familiar pattern of the young women his mother often invited – initially reserved, only to become grating once at ease.

Exhausted, Trevor reached for his phone and contemplated dialing her number. The contact name "Pouty" flashed on the screen, a moniker given in jest but one that seemed to capture a certain essence. A moment of hesitation lingered as he wondered, "Would she make me feel better?"

Staring at the digits, he decided to find out. Dialing the number, he held his breath as the phone was promptly answered.

"Hello?" Her voice, sweet as honey, floated through the phone, a sound he seldom heard. Yet, each time felt as if it were the first.

"Mr. Burton... Hello?" Her tone held a curious questioning note.

He chided himself internally. "It's me."

"I know it's you. How can I help you?"

He hesitated, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. "Oh, yes... How are you?"

"I'm doing great."

"Okay."

A prolonged silence lingered, and then she asked, her voice softening, "And you, how are you doing? Are you working hard? I had no idea you went to that café."

He stammered, "Uh, I am working hard. It was nice seeing you, Saya. Are you eating well?"

"Saya, we're ready to begin..." A male voice interrupted in the background, prompting her to cover the phone, though Trevor could still hear her.

"Luca, I will be there in a bit." Her voice, now slightly distant, reached him through the phone.

"Mr. Burton, I'm sorry, I must go. May I call you when I'm done? But, I don't really know what time that will be."

A tinge of dejection colored his response. "Sure, you can call me anytime." The words escaped him, surprising even himself.

"Okay, I promise I'll call you later," came Saya's voice, and the call abruptly ended.

Trevor lingered with the phone pressed against his ear, as if the echoes of her words could bridge the distance between them. Finally, he reluctantly placed it on the kitchen counter, a small void settling in his heart.

"She seemed busy. Are her exams close? Maybe I should anonymously send her a fruit basket with a good luck card," he whispered to himself, the thought lingering as he walked to his bedroom to freshen up. The notion of a silent gesture, a subtle expression of care, filled the quiet spaces between his contemplative steps.

That night, Trevor found himself going to bed extremely late, waiting for her promised call that never came. Disappointment lingered, but anger didn't find a place within him. She was no longer bound to him by marriage, and he had no right to be distraught over a missed phone call.

Determined to show himself that he was unfazed, the following day, on his way to a meeting, he stopped at a gift shop. There, he carefully selected a fruit basket, including all her favorite fruits, some beloved candies, and a card.

He spent a considerable amount of time contemplating the message on the card, finally settling on the simple words, "Work Hard!" Although he initially wanted to write it himself to maintain anonymity, he opted to have the shop owner pen the message. With her address noted and the delivery time scheduled for when she would be home, Trevor left the store.

The act of sending the fruit basket became a quiet declaration, a gesture of support shrouded in the anonymity he chose to maintain. As the gift embarked on its journey to Saya, Trevor couldn't help but wonder about the reaction it might evoke and whether it would bridge the silence that lingered between them.

It was another bustling day at the company, and by seven in the evening, only Trevor and his security team remained, the office echoing with the residual hum of a busy day. Fatigued from the long hours, Trevor descended in his private elevator. With his attention absorbed by his phone, he continued typing, walking mechanically toward the garage without looking up. Before reaching the door, a voice uttered his name.

"Mr. Burton..." The familiar sound resonated.

His heart skipped a beat, its rhythm escalating uncontrollably. Pausing in his steps, he took two quick breaths to compose himself and turned toward the source of the voice.

"Yes..." He feigned ignorance, facing the graceful girl with a warm smile who approached him. Apology shimmered in her bright brown eyes.

"I am truly sorry about yesterday. My group project ran later than expected, ending at three in the morning. It felt inappropriate to call at that hour, so I decided against it. I assumed you might have already gone to sleep, considering you mentioned being tired earlier," she explained hurriedly.

"Uhm... It's okay, Saya. You're a college student, after all," he replied with an air of indifference.

"Yeah, you're right," she nervously responded.

"But you didn't have to come all the way here to apologize at this hour. I'm sure you have lots to do. Have you been waiting long?"

Pouting slightly, she replied, and Trevor couldn't help but smile at her peculiar habit.

"Hm, is she going to tell a lie?" he wondered inwardly.

"Not very long. I wanted to wait. I also wanted to thank you for the fruits. I was free and thought I could invite you to dinner. Are you free, Mr. Burton?"

Amused, Trevor furrowed his brow as he asked, "What if I had stayed back longer? What would you have done?"

"Well, I would have asked the security officer to inform you of my visit," she smirked.

"Ah, I see," he smiled back.

"So?"

"Hmm..."

"Are you free for dinner?"

"Oh, dinner." Trevor glanced at his wristwatch but continued, "I was heading home to cook dinner. A good friend is in town and forced me to cook for him and his wife. Would you like to join us? You can treat me for dinner another time."

"I don't think I should join you. I mean, they came to see you, and invited you..."

"Have you eaten?" Trevor cut her off.

"Y-Yes," she stuttered.

"Haha… Yet you came all the way here and waited to invite me to dinner. Were you going to stare at me while I eat or feed me?" he said amusingly.

"W-Well, I did not eat much. I would have gotten something light," he noticed her cheeks flush.