Chapter 52
“If there’s ever anything I do that makes you uncomfortable, Mrs. Crestwell, I hope you’ll tell me right away p>
“I can wait until the day you truly accept me, Mrs. Crestwell p>
The warmth of his palm against hers jolted Seren back to the present.
Her mind drifted to those three years when Sheridan’s legs were paralyzed, when he needed constant help with his physical therapy.
Any time physical contact was required, she’d ask one of the staff at The Golden Age to help instead. Partly, it was because she was so much smaller than Sheridan-she simply didn’t have the strength to support him. But there was another reason-
Deep down, Seren knew she instinctively recoiled from being too close to Sheridan. Even a casual brush of his hand would trigger a wave of revulsion she couldn’t control. It wasn’t just Sheridan, either-it was the same with anyone who got too close.
But with Lennon, his touch didn’t make her want to pull away. She didn’t flinch or feel sick at the contact.
Realizing this, Seren’s lashes fluttered.
Finally, she whispered, “Alright p>
“Goodnight, Mrs. Crestwell p>
She looked up, catching the warmth in Lennon’s gentle eyes. But she couldn’t see the storm of emotions he was holding back.
People always said Seren was wild and unmanageable, arrogant, impossible to control. Only Lennon understood that her pride and defiance were the shields she used to protect herself.
She was like a butterfly, spinning a thick cocoon to keep the world out-fragile and soft beneath all that armor.
And only he knew. He had waited years for his butterfly to break free.
He’d almost lost her while he waited.
Seren returned to her room.
She lay in bed, unable to sleep. Outside, the river lights flickered serenely, just as they always had, but tonight she tossed and turned.
Her thoughts were tangled, a useless knot of memories, all circling back to Lennon.
She remembered the way he’d been with her these past few days: always respectful and composed, keeping a careful distance, but somehow knowing exactly when to let that distance fall away and reach for her instead.
Slow, gentle, never forcing.
It struck her: Lennon might know her better than she knew herself. Maybe all that restraint, all that polite distance, was for her sake out of respect for her boundaries and her feelings. Maybe he’d been doing it since the very first moment they met.
That realization made her see him in a new light-sharp-sighted, but also deeply considerate.
At some point, she finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Seren woke early as usual.
Coming downstairs, she found the dining room empty-Lennon was already
gone. But breakfast was waiting for her on the table, a note neatly pressed beside the plate.
The handwriting was bold and elegant, unmistakable.
*Don’t forget to have breakfast, Mrs. Crestwell p>
Seren glanced at the clock. It was barely after five.
She’d always thought she was an early riser, but Lennon had already prepared breakfast and left by the time she came down Yesterday, she’d assumed he had endless free time, but only now did it fully register: as CEO of NE, Lennon was busier than anyone.
Thinking back to his messages from the day before, she realized he must have squeezed them in between meetings, stealing a moment just to check on her. She couldn’t quite name the feeling, but it was the first time she’d felt so genuinely cared for.
After finishing her breakfast, Seren picked up her phone and sent Lennon a message on WhatsApp.
*Thank you for getting up early to make breakfast, Mr. Crestwell p>
Lennon had been right. She really did need to try letting him in.