Chapter 79: I didn’t mean to scare you
Inside his room, Daniel stood beneath the pounding shower, every inch of him soaked while frustration pulsed through him like a second heartbeat.
Water streamed down his shoulders, but it did nothing to cool the heat simmering beneath his skin. His jaw locked tight; his knuckles whitened as his fist pressed against the tiled wall.
’How in hell am I supposed to make her see what I feel?’
Daniel had never needed anyone to understand him. In business, his words were commands, his intentions always crystal clear. But with Anna, everything seemed to twist.
Every gesture he made, every word—she turned it into something else entirely.
A harsh, humorless chuckle escaped him—low at first, then rising into a dark, incredulous laugh that bounced off the glass walls of the cubicle.
"Forgive me?" he muttered, the words tasting like irony. "She thinks she forgave me."
His laughter died as abruptly as it began. A thought struck, sharp and unwelcome.
’Maybe... maybe I’m not making myself clear enough.’
Daniel’s hand slid down the slick tile, the muscles in his arm taut. He remembered the reports Henry had given him: the years Anna spent being treated as second best, the relentless bullying, the parents who never once made her feel secure.
No wonder she doubts everyone. No wonder she questions every word I say.
Except, apparently... Ethan.
The name flashed through his mind like acid. Bitterness cut through him; his hand came down hard against the wall, a hollow thud lost beneath the hiss of the water.
"No. I won’t let anyone else claim her attention. She’s my wife. It’s my job to make her feel safe—mine. Not Ethan’s."
Resolve hardened in his chest.
Daniel twisted the tap off, water dripping from his hair and running in rivulets down his torso. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, Henry’s earlier advice echoing in his mind like a quiet challenge:
If you want her to stay, be the man she can trust. Listen. Be patient. That’s the only language she’ll hear.
Daniel exhaled slowly, the steam curling around him.
Patience. Understanding. He could do that. For her.
And he would—before anyone else dared to steal the space he intended to claim.
Pulling out his phone he quickly informed Henry about his decision to work from home while the rest he handles in the company and quickly got dressed.
***
The breakfast table sat in uneasy silence, the clink of cutlery and the faint rustle of the maids’ aprons the only sounds in the wide dining room.
Anna kept her gaze fixed on her plate. Of all things, she hadn’t expected Daniel to cancel his usual office schedule and announce that he’d be working from home. For him, it was an opportunity to spend time with her, to learn the small things that might someday make their marriage more than a signed contract.
For her, it was... suspicious.
Daniel studied her across the table. He’d spent half his shower cooling his temper after their clash, realising somewhere between that maybe, just maybe Anna had never known what simple understanding felt like. And now he only wanted her to eat, to feel seen.
But she barely touched the food he’d asked Mariam to prepare.
"Why aren’t you eating?" he finally asked, breaking the pin-drop silence. "Everything is just the way you like it."
Anna’s fork hovered mid-air. She met his eyes briefly and nodded, but the intensity of his stare made her throat tighten.
"Ahem—if you keep looking at me like that," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear, "I doubt I’ll be able to eat anything."
A muffled giggle escaped from the maids standing at the sideboard.
Daniel turned sharply. The maids dropped their gazes at once, hands suddenly very busy with the teacups. He cleared his throat and looked away.
"I wasn’t looking at you," he said a little too quickly, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he busied himself with his own plate.
Anna bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. ’Daniel Clafford—flustered. That’s new.’
But her amusement dimmed almost as quickly as it came. He’d left her room earlier like a storm barely contained, and now he sat there acting as though nothing had happened.
’Don’t tell me he’s fattening me up before a lecture,’ she thought, sneaking a sideways glance at his maddeningly calm profile.
And then, like a lightning strike, a memory flared—one she wished had stayed buried.
Still... I’ll divorce you. The moment I achieve my dreams, I’ll throw those papers in your face. I won’t let you keep me tied to you.
Her own drunken voice echoed in her mind like a bolt striking from the cloud.
COUGH! COUGH!
Anna choked, nearly toppling from her chair, until her eyes turned watery due to suffocation.
"Careful!" Daniel slid a glass of water across to her and rubbed a steady hand along her back. "Why are you swallowing like the food’s about to escape?"
She gulped the water, heart hammering for reasons that had nothing to do with eggs or toast.
He knew. All along, he knew. And he waited—for the perfect moment to watch me squirm.
No amount of soothing settled the panic crawling through her. She finished her breakfast in tense silence, eager to retreat before he decided to pounce.
Just as she rose from her chair, his voice cut through the room—low, commanding, and impossible to ignore.
"I haven’t given you permission to leave yet."
The maids froze where they stood, suddenly fascinated by the silverware.
Anna turned back, schooling her features into something neutral even as her pulse kicked. She already knew what he was going to ask.
"Yesterday, during the table read," Daniel began, his eyes locked on hers, "you suddenly went pale. Was it because of me? Did I cause the panic?"
Anna blinked, startled by the accuracy of his observation.
’Was it because of him? She honestly couldn’t tell.’
"Maybe," she admitted at last, voice soft but clear. "You just... showed up out of nowhere. It caught me off guard."
Daniel’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her honesty hit harder than he expected.
"I didn’t mean to scare you," he said quietly. The words were almost a whisper, but Anna heard every one.
Her head snapped up. ’Is he feeling sorry for me?’
This wasn’t the Daniel she remembered, the cold, arrogant man who rarely cared if his words cut. Yet here he was, guilt flickering in his eyes.
"But you still did," she said, lifting her chin, trying to hide the warmth blooming in her chest. "Do you know how close I was to fainting?"
Daniel’s head jerked up, alarm flashing across his face. "Faint?"
The genuine worry that crossed his features almost undid her and then her lips twitched.
"You..." His eyes narrowed as her shoulders began to shake. "You’re mocking me, aren’t you?"
That did it—her laughter broke free, bright and unrestrained.
Daniel: "..."
Maids: "..."
The room seemed to hold its breath—caught between tension and the unexpected warmth of Anna’s laughter—while Daniel, utterly disarmed, could only stare.
***
The bell rang, and Betty slipped out of the Hill Valley Academy gates, the late-afternoon sun spilling across the courtyard. She had barely taken three steps when she froze.
Shawn leaned casually against his bike at the curb, one hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket, the other lazily twirling the key ring.
Her heart gave a startled jump. ’What is he doing here?’
"Brother Shawn?" she asked, clutching the strap of her bag a little tighter. "Why are you here?"
Shawn’s gaze lingered on the imposing academy building for a beat before returning to her. "You," he said simply. "I came to pick you up."
Betty nearly choked on her own breath. "You—what?" she blurted, staring as though he’d just confessed to robbing a bank.
He didn’t bother to elaborate. With an easy swing of his leg, he straddled the bike and started the engine, the low rumble drowning out the chatter of students spilling onto the street. "Come on. I’m taking you out for something to eat."
Betty blinked, unsure whether to be flattered or alarmed. For a long second she hovered on the pavement, then—against her better judgment—she climbed on behind him, careful to leave a respectable gap between them.
’Safe distance,’ she reminded herself as the bike roared to life.
The wind whipped through her hair as they sped through familiar streets. Shawn kept his eyes on the road, jaw set, but she caught the faint tension in his shoulders. Hill Valley Academy carried bitter memories for him—years ago it had been the place where relentless bullying had driven him to drop out mid-semester.
And yet here he was, picking her up, as if to rewrite a piece of his past.
At last he slowed, pulling into a quiet lane and stopping in front of a small food stall. The smell of sizzling noodles and spices drifted on the breeze, achingly familiar.
Betty climbed off the bike and stared. "Brother Shawn... this stall—" Her voice trailed off as recognition dawned.
Shawn cut the engine and swung the kickstand into place, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Let’s celebrate your birthday," he said, eyes warm despite the casual tone. "Starting with your favorite food spot."
Betty’s breath caught, the memory of the last time they’d been here—her taking him to this very stall on his birthday—suddenly flooding back. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, the scent of spices and the soft glow of the setting sun wrapping around them like an old, unspoken promise.