My Clingy CEO Husband

###Chapter 45: My Cat Is Scared of Thunder

Maxine Rhodes opened their chat window, wanting to ask Ethan Hawthorne when he would be back. Even a simple reply like "soon" or "don’t be afraid" seemed like it could dispel the helpless isolation clinging to her.

But her thumb hovered over the send button, and in the end, she hesitated.

’This... is too needy.’

When had she, Maxine Rhodes, ever needed to show weakness to others for comfort? She had always been the one to face every storm alone.

"It’s just a power outage," she told herself in a low voice, as if giving herself a pep talk. She deleted the drafted message, character by character, as if not asking, not saying anything, would be enough to maintain her impenetrable, tough exterior.

She turned off her phone screen, hugged her knees, and tried to counter the clamoring world outside with absolute silence.

「Meanwhile, in the top-floor conference room of Hawthorne Group headquarters.」

Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city had been blurred into a gray, watery world by the torrential downpour. Although the room was brightly lit and the atmosphere was serious, most of Ethan Hawthorne’s attention had already been stolen by the nasty weather outside.

An international video conference was in progress, and the foreign representative on the other end of the screen was presenting their proposal.

Ethan Hawthorne’s well-defined fingers were unconsciously tapping on the tabletop. His phone screen was lit, displaying his chat with Maxine Rhodes.

He clearly saw the "typing..." indicator in the chat window.

The indicator appeared and disappeared repeatedly, but in the end, no new message arrived.

He understood instantly. An indescribable anxiety seized him.

Just as the foreign representative finished their presentation and waited for his response, Ethan Hawthorne abruptly stood up.

"My apologies, everyone." His voice was steady but held an undeniable decisiveness. "The meeting is paused. My assistant will coordinate with all of you on the follow-up matters."

The executives on the video call and in the conference room were all stunned. This was completely unlike Ethan Hawthorne’s usual style, which was so rigorous it bordered on severe.

A foreign director he was familiar with tried to ease the tension with a half-joking question, "Hawthorne, is there some kind of emergency?"

Ethan Hawthorne had already picked up the suit jacket slung over his chair. Hearing the question, he didn’t stop walking. He just turned his head to the side, his tone calm yet firm. "Yes. My cat is scared of thunder."

He paused, and amid a sea of stunned gazes, left them with an even more suggestive explanation. "I have to go back—"

"and comfort her."

Before his words had even faded, he was already striding out of the conference room and heading straight for his private elevator.

A few executives exchanged glances, their faces etched with disbelief.

’When did Mr. Hawthorne get a cat?’

Erza Sinclair had a look on her face that said she’d seen through it all. ’It’s obviously Mrs. Hawthorne who’s scared. He’s just saying it’s a cat to protect her pride.’ She was totally shipping it.

Time crawled by amid the sound of rain and thunder.

An unknown amount of time passed.

"CLICK."

An extremely faint, yet incredibly clear sound came from the entryway.

A jolt went through Maxine Rhodes’s entire body.

’Ethan Hawthorne?’

’He should be in a meeting. And it’s a very important one. How could he possibly be back early?’

’It couldn’t be a burglar, could it?’

Fear coiled around her spine like a cold vine.

She forced herself to calm down, silently sliding off the sofa. Her bare feet touched the floor as she quickly grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table beside her. Its cold, hard touch steadied her nerves slightly.

She hid in the shadows where the living room met the entryway, holding her breath. Her muscles tensed, like a cat on the defensive.

The door was pushed open, and a tall, dark figure swept into the room, bringing with him a sharp chill and the dampness of the storm.

The beam from a phone’s flashlight pointed upward, vaguely outlining the man’s sharp jawline and the collar of his shirt, which was darkened by the rain.

"Maxine?"

It was Ethan Hawthorne’s voice, raspy from the wind and rain, with a hint of hastily suppressed panting and urgency.

In that instant, all her taut nerves suddenly snapped.

"CLANG!"

The ashtray slipped from her nerveless hand and hit the floor with a heavy thud, a dull yet clear sound that was particularly jarring in the stormy night.

Ethan Hawthorne immediately swept the beam of light toward the sound. The dancing halo first caught the ashtray on the floor, then moved upward, locking firmly onto her terrified face in the shadows.

The color had drained from her face, her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes, usually so calm and sharp, were now filled with lingering terror. She looked at him like a frightened fawn in the woods, her gaze dewy and lost.

His deep gaze paused on her face without a trace of surprise or question, as if he had anticipated her reaction all along—while he was racing his car, while he was climbing flight after flight of stairs in the dark.

Ethan Hawthorne crossed to her in a few large strides.

Now that he was closer, Maxine Rhodes could see more clearly how disheveled he was. His usually impeccable hair was a complete mess, and the strands at his forehead were plastered to his skin, soaked with sweat and rain.

His chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing. From beneath his damp shirt, a mixture of his warm body heat and the rain’s chill washed over her.

’The elevators were out because of the storm, too. He really climbed over thirty flights of stairs to get here.’

He said nothing. He simply opened his arms and pulled her entire body into a tight, forceful embrace.

Maxine Rhodes’s cheek was instantly pressed against his cool shirt. Beneath the fabric was his solid, warm chest and the sound of his strong, powerful heartbeat, which had yet to calm down.

THUMP, THUMP...

Her stiff body slowly softened in this embrace, which was filled with the scent of rain and his own unique fragrance.

One of his arms wrapped tightly around her back, while his other large hand gently, repeatedly, stroked the hair at the nape of her neck. His movements were as light and slow as if he were soothing a frightened kitten.

Outside, the downpour had not ceased, and the thunder still rumbled.

After the almost suffocating embrace, reason slowly resurfaced in Maxine Rhodes’s mind, like a reef exposed by the receding tide.

’What am I doing?’

’Greedily drawing warmth and shelter from another person like a helpless little girl? That wasn’t her. That wasn’t Maxine Rhodes.’

Almost subconsciously, her hands, pressed against his damp chest, pushed lightly, trying to create some distance. Her voice, still slightly hoarse from the ordeal, had already regained its usual composure. "I’m fine now... It was just the sudden power outage. I wasn’t used to it."

Ethan Hawthorne’s arms obediently loosened their grip, but he didn’t let go completely, creating a perfect distance that wouldn’t make her feel pressured.

In the halo of the phone’s flashlight, his deep gaze fell upon her face. He didn’t call out her obvious bravado, simply acknowledging her with a soft, "Mm."

"It’s a municipal circuit failure. Repairs will take time."

Maxine Rhodes nodded. She had intended to go back to her own bedroom, but standing at the doorway, she saw that the room was filled with a heart-pounding darkness.

Every flash of lightning from outside stretched the shadows of the furniture into bizarre shapes, and the booming thunder felt as if it were striking her heart directly.

She was still scared.

’But am I really going to tell Ethan Hawthorne that I’m scared and ask him to stay with me? The boundaries of their contract marriage were clear. She couldn’t bring herself to ask.’

’Should I just sit on the living room sofa all night? What’s the difference between that and staying here?’

Just as she was struggling internally, her body growing slightly cold with fear, she heard steady footsteps behind her.

Ethan Hawthorne stood in the soft glow of the flashlight in the hallway. Seeing her frozen silhouette at the doorway, he understood everything in an instant.

"There are backup emergency lights in the study. The light is more stable than a flashlight. It’s also a smaller space, and the windows are soundproofed, so it’s quieter than the bedroom. Want to go sit there for a while?"