The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

Sean Sinclair typed out the words "You can," paused a moment, deleted them, and retyped two words:

[No need.]

[You don’t need to from now on.]

Leila Jennings had been wronged recently. If he kept having her watched like this, she would probably be hurt if she found out.

Sean Sinclair put down his phone.

He himself hadn’t yet realized that his attitude toward Leila Jennings had changed, subtly and unconsciously.

At first, he worried Leila Jennings would be uncontrollable. He ignored her objections, made her quit her job, and signed her up for parenting classes to prepare her for motherhood.

Now, however, he was starting to care about Leila Jennings’s feelings.

When a person starts prioritizing someone else’s feelings over their own self-interest, it means they’ve fallen for them.

In love, yet unaware.

...

Leila Jennings keyed in the code and pushed open the door to their home. A cold, desolate feeling washed over her. A thin layer of dust already coated the shoe cabinet.

It had been too long since either of them had been back.

Leila Jennings looked around. In the house she had lived in for four years, her busy figure had once filled every corner.

Sean Sinclair’s two most frequent spots were the living room sofa—where he sometimes even worked instead of going to the study—

and the balcony.

Whenever Sean Sinclair took a call, he would go out onto the balcony and slide the glass door shut.

She would see either Sean Sinclair’s back or his profile.

Leila Jennings stood there in a daze for a long while.

When she snapped out of it, Cherry Cole had already opened the shoe cabinet. Pointing at the shoes inside, she asked, "Are you taking all your shoes with you?"

"I’ll pack them later." Leila Jennings gestured for her to sit on the sofa while she went to boil some water. She then took a jar of rose tea from a cupboard and brewed a cup for her.

"You have some tea first. I’m going to the bedroom to pack my clothes." Leila Jennings walked into the bedroom. The sheets and duvet cover had been changed, but they hadn’t been straightened out.

Still, she took it upon herself to shake out the duvet, spread it over the bed, fold back a small section, and prop up the pillows.

She pulled back the curtains and opened the window, letting fresh air circulate through the stuffy room.

Then, she opened the wardrobe.

The suits, shirts, and ties inside were a bit of a mess. Leila Jennings straightened them out one by one, her eyes downcast, long lashes concealing all the emotion within them.

This was the last time she would ever tidy Sean Sinclair’s clothes.

Suddenly, she heard Cherry Cole on the phone. It sounded like she had to leave for something urgent.

Leila Jennings had just turned her head when Cherry Cole appeared at the doorway, poking her head in. "Leila, the old man is rushing me to get to the lab, so I think I have to go. But don’t worry, I’ve already called someone to come help you move."

"You should go. You don’t need to call anyone to help."

"It’s fine, he’s got nothing but time. I’m off! Leila, when I get back, I’ll take you to my little pub to celebrate!"

Leila Jennings watched Cherry Cole leave with a smile.

She had already taken some clothes with her when she went to stay with her mentor’s wife, so there wasn’t much left in the wardrobe. She found a large storage bag meant for quilts, folded her clothes one by one, and placed them inside.

It all fit into a single bag.

Her shoes and other small items went into another bag.

She didn’t plan on taking the small trinkets Sean Sinclair had occasionally bought for her.

Things like her toothbrush, bath sponge, and towel, Leila Jennings threw them all into the trash.

There wasn’t much else.

In this home, three-fifths of the belongings were Sean Sinclair’s, one-fifth was shared, and she was only taking her one-fifth. If you weren’t looking closely, you wouldn’t even notice anything was gone.

Leila Jennings carried the two bags out into the hallway, then came back inside. She put on a face mask and gloves, picked up a rag, and, carrying a basin of water, began wiping down all the dusty surfaces in the apartment.

After living in a place for four years, you’re bound to have some feelings for it.

Besides, she had longed for a home of her own ever since she was a child. When she first moved into this house, she had cleaned it from top to bottom.

One should always finish what they start.

She wasn’t just cleaning the house; she was cleansing her own heart.

Over an hour later, a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on Leila Jennings’s forehead. She raised her arm to wipe it away just as the doorbell rang.

The door wasn’t closed.

"Who is it?" She looked up, a flicker of nervousness in her eyes.

’Could it be Sean Sinclair? Is he back?’

"Me." Nathaniel Cole walked in through the doorway. His sharp brows furrowed as he looked at Leila Jennings, who was crouching in front of the leather sofa, drenched in sweat.

He glanced around the room.

His frown deepened as he took in the cramped three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment.

’Sean Sinclair earns tens of millions a year, yet he has Leila Jennings suffering with him in a small place like this.’

’So he has money for his third sister, but not for his wife, is that it?’

And what was even more infuriating?

’They’re already divorced, yet here Leila Jennings is, toiling away cleaning house for the man.’

’Her clothes are dirty.’

’There’s dust on her face, too.’

Nathaniel Cole strode over.

"President Cole." Leila Jennings wasn’t that surprised to see Nathaniel Cole; she knew Cherry must have been the one who called him.

’The siblings might bicker, but when something important comes up, they always have each other’s backs.’

"’President’ what?" Nathaniel Cole’s expression was severe, his eyes simmering with a hidden rage. He snatched the rag from Leila Jennings’s hand and tossed it into the murky basin of water.

A bit of the dirty water splashed out, landing near their feet.

"Do you just love being a maid for other people?"

Leila Jennings opened her mouth to explain. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

But Nathaniel Cole just cursed under his breath, "You’ve got issues."

"You’re coming with me." He grabbed Leila Jennings by the wrist.

Leila Jennings didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on the task at hand. "Just a little more. I just need to wipe the sofa and the shoe cabinet, then sweep and mop one last time..."

"Enough nonsense." Seeming to have lost all patience, Nathaniel Cole bent down, hoisted the filthy Leila Jennings onto his shoulder, and strode out without another word.

When her body was suddenly lifted into the air, Leila Jennings didn’t cry out in surprise. She just grabbed his shoulder in alarm, turning her head to say, "President Cole!"

"Shut up!" Nathaniel Cole wasn’t wasting any more words on her. As he carried her out, the driver, who had been waiting outside for some time, came into view.

"Take these two bags," Nathaniel Cole said to the driver, nodding at the bags on the floor. "Be careful with them."

"Yes, President Cole."

The driver immediately picked up the bags and followed.

"President Cole, could you please put me down?" Leila Jennings was jostled on Nathaniel Cole’s shoulder—he’d done it on purpose.

It was the first time she’d ever been carried over a man’s shoulder. Leila Jennings was both mortified and furious, but her anger was only visible in her eyes.

She knew she couldn’t win a struggle against him, so she calmed herself slightly and said, "At least let me finish cleaning. I’ve lived here for so many years; I should at least tie up loose ends before I leave."

"President Cole," she pleaded, her tone softening.

Nathaniel Cole was unmoved. "Don’t even think about it."

DING. The elevator arrived.

And so, Leila Jennings was carried into the elevator, carried out of the elevator, carried through the residential complex, and finally, tossed into a car.

Before Leila Jennings could react, Nathaniel Cole had already climbed in beside her, slamming the door shut with a THUD.

Leila Jennings reached for the handle on the other door, but Nathaniel Cole grabbed her wrist, holding it tight.

The man’s expression was glacial.

"Leila Jennings, just try getting out of this car."

For some reason, Leila Jennings didn’t feel afraid when faced with his ferocious gaze.

But she didn’t understand where Nathaniel Cole’s anger was coming from.

They were only a boss and his subordinate—and that was in the past.

At most, he was her friend’s older brother.

Leila Jennings tried to pull her hand back, but it wouldn’t budge.

"President Cole, this is my business."

Nathaniel Cole’s heart clenched.

’So heartless.’