Two full days of bed rest should not feel like a prison sentence, and yet somehow I'm starting to understand why people in historical dramas dramatically throw themselves into ponds.
Xue Lian hasn't messaged me since our last office confrontation.
No smug texts, no subtle provocations, no *I might keep him a little longer tonight*.
At first, I thought maybe he'd finally accepted defeat and decided to develop some dignity, but then I saw the article.
Right.
So that was the message… less obvious, more effective, honestly annoying.
Even more annoying was the fact that despite apparently spending the entire day touring construction sites and discussing billion-dollar projects with Xue Lian, Bael had still come home and quietly restocked my ice cream like some kind of emotionally destabilizing villain.
I hate that I'm still thinking about it.
