Chapter 195: Tomorrow

*Runze’s POV*

The evening feels unusually long tonight.

Outside, the estate has completely settled into the quiet dark of late evening. Inside, the only sound comes from the soft, rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the wall and the occasional vibration of my phone whenever another news notification arrives.

*Bzz.*

The screen lights up on the duvet, casting a pale, stark glow across my lap.

I don’t open them. I don’t even swipe to clear the lock screen.

I already know what they’ll say. Every article circulating online right now is just the same corporate PR statement rewritten a hundred different ways, repeating the exact same sterile phrases about strategic alliances and family unions.

Swiping past the news alert, I unlock the screen and open my chat app instead.

The screen sits exactly as I left it earlier... silent, static, with no new messages since my last missed calls.

I tap the text box, typing slowly as my fingers move against the glass keyboard.

*I’m worried about you. Please let me know you’re okay when you see this.*

I stare at the words for a long moment, my chest aching with a quiet, dull pressure, before finally pressing send.

The message goes through immediately.

*Delivered.*

Not read.

"..."

I close my eyes, letting out a low breath, and lock the screen.

A few seconds later, the bedroom door opens with a faint click.

Bael steps back inside after finishing his work call out in the corridor. Wearing his soft evening clothes with the sleeves rolled loosely up his forearms, he runs a hand through his dark hair as he walks in. His attention drifts naturally toward me, and then toward the phone still clutched in my hands.

"You called him again?"

"No," I say softly, lowering my hand back to my lap. "I stopped calling... I sent him a text message instead."

Bael walks over without another word.

"He still isn’t answering," he observes quietly.

"No."

The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he sits beside me on the edge of the bed. For a long while, neither of us speaks. The quiet in the room stretches out between us, broken only by the steady hum of the air passing through the house.

I unlock the phone again before I even realize I’m doing it, my thumb moving on instinct.

No new notifications, no missed calls, no reply.

Bael watches quietly, his eyes taking in the pale, tight set of my knuckles around the frame of the device.

Then he reaches over, his long fingers closing gently around the edge of the phone. I don’t resist. I let my hand go slack as he slips it from my grasp and places it face down on the nightstand beside the bed, right next to the small paper bag from the bakery.

The ginger biscuits sit inside it, completely untouched.

Only then does he look back at me.

"You’ve been holding that phone since I came home," Bael says softly, his thumb resting lightly against the back of my hand. "You barely touched your dinner when you told me about the news. You haven’t even opened the biscuits."

A faint, self-conscious smile tugs at the corner of my lips before disappearing just as quickly, leaving behind that same familiar knot of worry.

"I know keeping my eyes on it won’t make him answer," I whisper, looking down at my hands in my lap. "But..."

I lower my eyes, my voice dropping.

"I keep thinking maybe the next time I look... there’ll be something."

Bael doesn’t tell me I’m overthinking. He doesn’t give me vague, empty promises that everything will be fine by morning.

Instead, he asks quietly, "What are you thinking about?"

I lean back against the headboard, staring at the dark pattern of the curtains across the room. For a long moment, I don’t answer, trying to untangle the messy thoughts sitting in my chest.

Finally...

"I didn’t even know he had a brother."

The words sound strangely small once they’re spoken aloud in the silence of the room.

"I thought..." I let out a quiet, tired breath, pressing my lips together. "I thought we were close."

Bael waits. He never rushes me when I’m trying to find the right words to say what’s on my mind.

"Talking to him always felt effortless." My gaze drops to my hands. "But the moment something goes wrong... I realize how completely on the outside I am. I don’t know much about his family. I don’t even know where he lives."

My fingers tighten against my knee.

"It just feels strange... realizing how little I actually have to offer him right now."

The room falls silent again.

Bael studies me, his expression calm and steady in the dim light of the bedroom. He doesn’t offer hollow comfort, nor does he let me sit with unnecessary guilt.

"You’re blaming yourself for not seeing what he chose to hide," Bael says quietly.

I don’t answer right away. Because deep down, the guilt still lingers.

"It isn’t that," I whisper eventually, though my voice lacks conviction. "...Maybe it is. I just feel like I’ve been a bad friend."

Bael shakes his head once, his tone remaining low and grounded.

"Not knowing every detail of his life doesn’t mean you aren’t close."

I look up at him.

"People decide for themselves what parts of their lives they share," Bael continues, his eyes fixed on mine. "Ling Yue reaches out to you because he values your company, not because he expects you to carry his family affairs. He likely never wanted you to worry about those things."

I blink, caught off guard by the clarity in his words. "I never thought of it that way."

"I know." His thumb lightly strokes the back of my hand. "Because if you had... you wouldn’t be sitting here blaming yourself."

Something inside my chest loosens. Not completely... the concern for Ling Yue is still very much there, but just enough for me to draw a proper breath.

Bael reaches over, his fingers brushing gently against my temple, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. His palm lingers against the side of my face for a fleeting second, his thumb softly tracing the curve of my cheekbone.

Then he shifts closer on the bed.

One arm slips behind my back, firm and warm. The other settles lightly around my waist. With practiced ease, he guides me down until my head is resting comfortably against his chest, completely wrapping me in his warmth.

I don’t protest. I pull my legs up under the duvet, resting my hand against his shirt. The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart under my ear is strangely comforting, cutting right through the cold anxiety lingering in my skin.

His fingers begin moving slowly through my hair.

Then down my back.

Up again.

The same slow, gentle motion. Again. Again.

"You should sleep," Bael says softly, his breath brushing warm against the top of my head.

"I’m not sleepy."

"You will be."

I let out the smallest huff of laughter against his shirt. "...You’re very confident."

"I am."

His hand continues its slow rhythm against my spine, neither hurried nor absent-minded. Just... there. Solid and constant.

A few quiet minutes pass. The weight of the day slowly begins to drain from my muscles, leaving me light and heavy all at once.

Then Bael speaks again, his voice grounding me into the mattress.

"If he hasn’t reached out by tomorrow afternoon..."

I tilt my head slightly against his chest, listening.

"...I’ll have people check on him."

Knowing Bael can quietly handle finding out where he is takes the edge off my anxiety. It isn’t just a vague attempt to soothe me, it’s a practical answer, leaving me with nothing left to obsess over tonight.

I tighten my grip slightly on his shirt. "...Thank you."

"For what?" Bael asks quietly, his fingers continuing their steady, gentle motion through my hair.

"For being here."

His hand pauses for a heartbeat before resuming its steady rhythm against my spine.

"Sleep, Runze."

I close my eyes, resting my cheek back down against his chest.

His heartbeat stays slow and steady beneath my ear. Somewhere outside, the wind brushes softly against the glass of the balcony doors, and my breathing gradually falls into the exact same rhythm as his.

The worry doesn’t completely disappear, but wrapped in his arms, it’s quiet enough to let me finally rest.

The last thing I remember before sleep claims me is Bael’s hand still moving gently through my hair.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

***

When I open my eyes again, the dark of the night is gone.

My head feels warm and slightly hazy, heavy with sleep. I shift my shoulder against the pillow, registering the familiar warmth beside me and the steady weight of Bael’s arm still resting loosely over my waist.

I blink a few times, clearing the blur from my vision.

Bael is looking down at me.

He’s propped up on one elbow beside me, resting his head against his palm. He’s just lying there in the quiet morning air, looking at me while I wake up, a subtle, fond curve resting on his lips.

The moment he notices my eyes open and focus on him, his smile softens just a fraction more.

He leans down, closing the short distance between us, and presses a brief, warm kiss right to the tip of my nose.

"You woke up on time," Bael says smoothly, his voice low.

I blink up at him, still groggy, my voice raspy from sleep as I try to make sense of his words.

"...On time?" I murmur, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. "...For what?"

Bael looks down at me, his thumb tracing a gentle, slow line along my cheekbone.

"You’re coming with me to the office."