The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

Leila Jennings made a "shh" sound, signaling that the matter couldn’t be spread around.

Cherry Cole made a zipping motion across her lips, but then, as if remembering something, she turned to look at Nathaniel Cole’s private office.

"My brother didn’t hear that, did he?"

Leila Jennings looked over. Nathaniel Cole was busy with his head down, his pen flying as he signed documents. Ten minutes later, he walked out of his office.

"If you’re not done memorizing, continue over the weekend."

Leila Jennings closed the file. She was already done, but she still said, "Okay."

Cherry Cole was also packing her things. She asked, "Leila, you’re heading back to Professor Warren’s, right? I drove today, I’ll give you a ride."

Nathaniel Cole shot her a sideways glance. "With your driving skills? Didn’t you fail your road test five times?"

Cherry Cole: "..."

"Aaaah, I’m going to kill you!" She lunged forward, but her own brother’s large hand pressed against her forehead, stopping her dead in her tracks. She was like an angry little bird, flapping its wings furiously but going nowhere.

Leila Jennings let out a soft laugh.

The smile bloomed on her elegant face, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds.

Nathaniel Cole’s gaze fixed on her face.

The moment Leila Jennings looked his way, he averted his eyes and said in a deep voice, "I’ll take her."

Cherry Cole: "?"

Cherry Cole: "!"

She immediately stopped flailing. Her dark, expressive eyes darted all over her brother, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Fine. It’s safer with a guy around, anyway."

And just like that, Leila Jennings was pulled into the car by Cherry Cole. It was a Pullman with four seats, arranged in two pairs facing each other.

She couldn’t let the car’s owner take a rear-facing seat, so Leila intended to get out and move to the front passenger seat.

Nathaniel Cole said coolly, "Stay seated."

Cherry Cole pulled her back as well, and Nathaniel Cole sat down directly opposite Leila.

The back of the extended Pullman was indeed spacious, but it couldn’t mitigate the awkwardness of sitting face-to-face, especially when the man’s long, crossed legs were so hard to ignore.

Leila felt it was wrong to look forward and wrong to close her eyes and pretend to sleep. She kept her head turned to the side, staring out the window until her neck began to ache.

She raised a hand to gently rub her neck. The man, who had been reading a magazine, lifted his eyes, glanced at her, and suddenly told the driver to pull over.

The man moved to the front passenger seat.

Cherry Cole, who had been feeling a bit drowsy from the car’s air conditioning, was instantly wide awake, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"Whoa, my brother actually knows how to sit in the passenger seat? In the past, if I insisted on squeezing into the same car, I’d be the one banished to the front." Heirs and heiresses with private chauffeurs never sat up front.

Cherry Cole was absolutely certain that her brother’s feelings for Leila Jennings were anything but ordinary.

They hadn’t been for a long, long time.

Leila said, "President Cole really is a good boss."

The thought didn’t even cross her mind to think otherwise.

If it came down to a matter of thoughtful details, Sean Sinclair from four years ago had been his equal, if not better.

When they first met, she had shared her umbrella with Sean Sinclair. In return, he bought a clean towel for her to dry her hair, purchased medicine, prepared it for her, and watched her drink it.

The second time she got in his car, he heard her stomach grumble. He not only found some snacks but also opened the packaging for her. While she ate, he stood by with a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and handing it to her at just the right moment.

When Sean accompanied her to a funeral, he always carried tissues, eye drops, and glucose tablets, worried that she wouldn’t eat and her body wouldn’t be able to hold up.

When he went with her to the orphanage, he purposefully changed into a cheap tracksuit. His pockets were filled with candy, and he quietly made a donation to the orphanage.

From the day they met through the first year of their marriage, Sean had been impeccably attentive to her.

Which was why she had been wondering lately, ’Was all of that in the past just an act? Did Sean not have a single genuine feeling for me?’

But it didn’t matter anymore.

The car slowly came to a stop. They had arrived at The Thorne Residence.

Leila Jennings got out of the car, said goodbye to Cherry Cole who was leaning against the window, then walked to the front passenger side. "President Cole, thank you for tonight."

"Mm," Nathaniel Cole replied, holding out a business card for her between his fingers.

Leila took it, confused. It was the card of a top domestic lawyer—the very same one her professor’s wife had taken her to see.

’So Nathaniel Cole had heard them after all.’

"Tell him I sent you. He’ll help you, no questions asked."

"Thank you, President Cole." Leila carefully put the card away. "And please, keep this confidential."

"I’m not interested in your marriage to Sean Sinclair."

The car gradually drove away.

Cherry Cole leaned forward, parroting him in a sing-song voice, "’I’m not interested in your marriage to Sean Sinclair~’ I wonder who it was that drove her home, gave her a lawyer’s card, and even let her use his name..."

Nathaniel Cole personally raised the partition in the car.

He glanced at the rearview mirror. Leila was still standing by the entrance. Only when the car turned a corner did he see her slender figure finally turn and go inside.

The dim yellow streetlight cast her retreating figure in an even colder, more solitary light.

...

Leila Jennings had arranged to meet the person she’d hired for the class at 8:30 at a coffee shop near the instructional center, as the class started at nine.

The woman was taken aback the moment she saw Leila. She hadn’t expected her to be dressed so plainly, yet she possessed a unique air, like a pearl coated in dust. Perhaps all she needed was a change of clothes and a touch of light makeup to shine.

Leila noticed the woman sizing her up and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No." The woman kept staring at her, thinking, ’Her voice is lovely, too. She speaks at a calm, unhurried pace, giving off a sense of oceanic tranquility.’

"My name is Claire Rhodes."

"I’m Leila Jennings."

"Your requirements are that I have to wear a mask for the entire class and say that I’m you, is that right?" Claire Rhodes said. "I can do that, but it looks like I’ll have to wear my hair down, too. Our hair color is different, though the length is about the same."

Leila’s hair was long, black, and straight, while Claire had dyed hers dark brown. The difference would be noticeable in the sun, but not otherwise.

"It’s fine." Leila was already planning to get her hair done anyway. To match the gown her professor’s wife had given her, a dark brown hair color would actually look quite nice.

She went over a few more points, and Claire Rhodes took notes diligently without asking any prying questions.

With ten minutes until the class began, Claire Rhodes took the card to the center. When the receptionist swiped it, she asked, "Mrs. Sinclair?"

She froze for a second.

Leila had only given her own name, not her husband’s surname.

She quickly sent a message to ask: "Is your husband’s last name Sinclair? They’re calling me Mrs. Sinclair, not by your name."

"Yes." Leila’s brows furrowed slightly.

’Why was Sean suddenly calling her "Mrs. Sinclair" to outsiders?’

’Hadn’t he always kept their marriage under wraps, making sure no one ever addressed her that way?’

Unable to figure out what new scheme Sean was plotting, Leila decided not to dwell on it. She found a nearby hair salon, but then felt that just getting a casual trim would be an insult to her professor’s wife’s thoughtful gift. So, she turned and headed for the nearest large shopping mall instead.

She had just set one foot on the escalator when she noticed two familiar figures in a jewelry store next to the escalator on the first floor.

Sarah Lynch was picking out jewelry while Sean Sinclair stood beside her, his head down, looking at his phone. When Sarah turned around, holding up a piece of jewelry to ask if it was pretty, Sean immediately put his phone back in his bag and smiled warmly.

His lips formed the word: *Beautiful.*

’Sean had sent her to a parenting class while he was out shopping for jewelry with his Lover.’

As the escalator carried her upward, Leila lost sight of them.

Sarah Lynch asked with a smile, "Sean, is there something urgent? I see you keep checking your phone."

Sean thought of the notification he’d just received on his phone—a message confirming the class card had been swiped, along with a side-profile photo of Leila. A wave of satisfaction washed over him.

’His obedient wife was back.’

"Have you picked something?" Sean’s smile was gentle. "After we buy the jewelry, I still need to help you pick out a new gown and shoes."

Sarah Lynch smiled and looped her arm through his. Pointing to a piece of jewelry worth 800,000, she said, "Wrap this up."