The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

This answer—that a man only shows possessiveness toward someone he likes—left Sarah Lynch completely satisfied, her face breaking into a wide smile.

"Well, I guess I’ll have to go alone, then."

"Don’t worry, Sarah. I’ll give my brother right back to you once we’re inside. I won’t disturb you two," Cecilia Sinclair said, so overjoyed she no longer felt the sting on her cheek.

Sarah Lynch laughed. "Then you’d better remember to give him back to me."

Those few simple words tugged at Sean Sinclair’s heartstrings.

Seeing this, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair made an excuse to go to bed, and Cecilia Sinclair ran off as well, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment she closed the door, Cecilia Sinclair grabbed her phone again and peeked through the crack, secretly snapping a picture of the pair sitting side by side in the living room.

Sarah Lynch, noticing Cecilia was secretly taking photos, suddenly blinked. "Sean, I think I got something in my eye."

"Let me see." Sean turned to the side and leaned in, about to blow into her eye.

Sarah Lynch tilted her head up and kissed him on the lips.

CLICK.

Cecilia got the shot.

’Sarah is destined to be my sister-in-law! Now we just have to wait for Leila Jennings to step aside!’

She opened her chat with Leila Jennings and immediately sent the photo.

The person my brother loves is Sarah. If you know what’s good for you, divorce him.

Back in the living room, Sean was momentarily stunned by the kiss. A flash of panic crossed his eyes as he glanced around.

They were the only two in the living room.

"Sarah..."

He wanted to tell her they should be a bit more restrained in a place like this; it wouldn’t look good if someone saw.

Sarah Lynch blinked her big, innocent eyes. "Can’t I? Sean, you like me, and I like you."

Sean’s brow furrowed slightly. "It’s not that you can’t."

"Then that’s settled." Sarah didn’t press her advantage, moving a little farther away from him. "Sean, I’m sleepy. Take me to my room."

"Okay." Sean stood up.

Sarah Lynch held out her hand. "I’m dizzy. You’ll have to lead me."

Sean led her to the guest room. Sarah Lynch glanced at the adjacent room. "Your mother said you’re staying next door."

"Yeah. Call me if you need anything." Sean stood at the doorway, not entering.

But Sarah didn’t go in. "I need something right now. I want to take a shower. Can you find me a change of clothes?"

"One moment." Sean went to his own room and rummaged through the closet. Besides his own dress shirts, all he could find were Leila Jennings’s white t-shirts and hot pants.

Leila loved sleeping in white t-shirts. Sometimes she would go to the night market and buy a whole stack of them at once.

He had once tried to convince Leila to buy some silk pajamas or nightgowns, but she always said they were too expensive, preferring to buy cheap clothes instead.

’Her past as an orphan probably made her subconsciously frugal.’

But at times, it also made him feel embarrassed.

Sean let go of Leila’s white t-shirt. ’Sarah is used to luxury; she wouldn’t wear something this cheap.’ All that was left was one of his own dress shirts.

There was an exquisite brooch pinned to the shirt.

Sean remembered that Leila had bought it.

Leila managed all the household affairs, big and small, especially his food and clothing. His meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner were planned out, and his clothes, shoes, and accessories were all coordinated for him.

Just like this brooch on the collar.

The tie and tie clip next to it were each worth thousands.

Leila’s t-shirts and hot pants, which cost a mere pittance, were completely out of place next to his expensive wardrobe.

Feeling irritated, Sean snapped a photo of them and sent it to Leila.

Can you buy some decent pajamas next time?

Leila: [Okay.]

Sean: [I’m throwing these out.]

Leila: [Go ahead.]

Since Leila had agreed, he took all of her cheap clothes and tossed them into the trash can.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Sarah Lynch knocked before walking in. "Sean, what’s taking so long to find a nightgown?"

She swayed unsteadily as she walked.

Afraid she might fall, Sean moved to support her.

"I don’t have any suitable nightgowns here. Just wear one of my dress shirts," Sean said, handing it to her.

Sarah took the shirt, her eyes falling on the t-shirts and shorts in the trash can. She recognized them as Leila’s at a glance.

"What’s this?"

"Just trash."

"You know, you could actually put these to use. They could be a doormat by the front door, or a mat for the bathroom. You could even use them to wipe your feet or clean the floor, and *then* throw them in the trash when they’re dirty," Sarah said, a flicker in her eyes.

It was clear she wasn’t just talking about the clothes, but using them as a metaphor for Leila.

Sean glanced at the clothes in the trash can. "Forget it. It’s too much trouble."

Sarah didn’t say anything else. She took the shirt, let Sean help her back to her room, and then closed the door.

’I can’t have a tryst with Sean here in the Sinclair home,’ she thought. ’It would make me seem frivolous and cheap. The Sinclair family would think I’m easy to manipulate, wouldn’t they?’

...

Leila Jennings lay in bed, looking at the message from Sean. Her clothes had been thrown away.

It was just as well. She had no plans to return to the Sinclair home.

She switched back to the photo Cecilia had sent, the phone’s bright screen illuminating her impassive face.

’A simple kiss while sitting together? What’s that?’

’She and Sean had left... fluids... on their bed. There was even a pair of lace panties under it.’

Leila switched back to her chat history with Sean, scrolling up slowly. The number of conversations they’d had in the past half-month was pitifully low.

Before that, their daily chats all revolved around what he would eat and what he would wear.

Sean would reply: [Thank you, honey.]

Of all the messages in their chat history, that was the most common. Looking back, it was also the most ironic.

Her eyes stung in the bright glare of the phone. She turned it off and tried to sleep.

Just like the nights before, she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, only to wake up at her usual time the next morning as if by clockwork.

When Leila went to the kitchen, she ran right into the cook who had arrived to make breakfast.

The lady of the house preferred her peace and quiet, so aside from Butler Duncan, the other staff only came at scheduled times.

"Miss Leila Jennings, are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I can make it for you."

"It’s fine, I’ll do it myself." Leila planned to make steamed buns. To her, growing up in an orphanage, steamed buns were a delicacy more precious than any royal feast.

After all, it wasn’t like she could get her hands on a royal feast.

An hour and a half later, ten fluffy steamed buns, each bigger than her fist, were fresh from the steamer.

The cook stared in shock as Miss Leila Jennings grabbed one and began devouring it in huge bites, even offering one to her.

The buns Leila used to make for Sean had always been delicate soup dumplings—small and elegant to eat.

But she preferred big buns. They were hearty and filling.

She left a few for the lady of the house and Butler Duncan, then took the remaining six to The Cole Group, placing one on Renee Scott’s desk.

Renee Scott picked up the bun. "Where’d you get a bun this huge? Is it cooked all the way through? Whoa, one bite and it’s all filling... This is delicious! Where did you buy it?"

"I made them." Leila had spared no effort when it came to pleasing Sean’s palate; some of her secret recipes had cost her a small fortune and a great deal of time to learn.

Renee Scott eyed the other buns in her bag.

Leila handed her another one.

That left four.

One for Secretary Caine, one for Secretary Gwen, one for Assistant Zachary, and one more for herself.

All the buns she’d made this morning were now accounted for.

Assistant Zachary and the two secretaries were also amazed by her buns. As they were eating with gusto, the late-arriving President Cole inquired, "What’s so delicious?"

Zachary replied, "Secretary Jennings made them herself. They have a ton of filling, the dough is thin, and the savory meat juices are incredible."

"Is that so?" Nathaniel Cole’s gaze fell on the single remaining bun in Leila’s clear bag. "Let me have a taste."

With lightning-fast reflexes, Leila snatched it out of the bag and took a large bite.

"Sorry, President Cole," she mumbled, her mouth full. "They’re all gone."

Nathaniel Cole was speechless.