He Gave His Secretary Two Hours Every Day Until Our Wedding. So I Left Chapter 06

He Gave His Secretary Two Hours Every Day Until Our Wedding. So I Left Chapter 06

After Owen left, Nathaniel couldn’t focus.

He pressed too hard on Lydia’s leg three times.

She bit her lip. Seeing his dark mood, she stayed silent and bore the pain.

Nathaniel released her and frowned at the red marks blooming on her skin.

“Why didn’t you say it hurt?”

Lydia’s eyes were wet, her expression pitiful, like a child caught misbehaving.

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”

Nathaniel sighed softly.

Lydia always thought of others. How could he leave her alone?

Nathaniel thought Elena unreasonable.

He’d comforted her at length last night. Today, she still hadn’t persuaded her parents. Clearly, she hadn’t tried hard enough.

But then, she’d only just learned of Lydia. Some sulking was understandable.

Encouraged by his tolerance, Lydia ventured a complaint.

“Miss Whittemore is difficult. I explained everything, yet she insists on ending it. Is she manipulating you into yielding?”

“Nathaniel, you should ignore her this time. Otherwise, after the wedding, who knows what scenes she’ll make.”

Nathaniel withdrew his hands. His face cooled for the first time.

“She’s endured so much. If she were truly vindictive, she’d have ruined my name publicly, not simply canceled the engagement.”

The words were enough to bring fresh tears to Lydia’s eyes.

But Nathaniel remembered. When she’d been his secretary, Lydia had been resilient. She rarely cried.

When had she begun weeping so often before him?

An unfamiliar impatience rose in him.

He didn’t know its source.

Before this, he’d never lost his temper with Lydia. Never grown cold.

Now, he couldn’t help it.

He stood, tucked the blanket around her with the last of his patience, and reached for his watch.

“Rest. I’ll return tonight to massage your legs.”

Back in his own room, Nathaniel switched on his phone.

Each time he came here, he made a habit of powering it off.

The resort owner-another friend-teased him once.

“You’re devoted to that secretary. Who switches off their phone for two full days? That’s loyalty.”

Nathaniel had smiled but offered no explanation.

No one knew the truth. He didn’t do it for Lydia.

He did it because of Elena.

He despised lying to her. Feared her questions.

Where are you?

What are you doing?

Who is with you?

Yes, he was afraid. Elena was pure. If she loved, she gave everything. Believed everything.

Each deception left him with a gnawing guilt.

Perhaps this was what it meant to love someone.

Nathaniel had never denied it. He loved Elena.

Unsurprisingly, his phone was crowded with missed calls and messages.

He navigated to Elena’s chat, intending to soothe her.

But then his mother called.

He answered.

“Nathaniel, I’ve changed my mind. Bring Lydia home. I approve of you two now.”

“Nothing matters more than my son’s happiness. A limp is trivial. If she cares for you, makes you happy, gives me a grandchild-I’ll be delighted,”

“Harold, say something sincere to our boy.”

Nathaniel was stunned.

He cut off his father before he could speak. “Mother, what nonsense is this? Lydia and I are not romantically involved. The only one who can make me happy is Elena.”

Mrs. Prescott didn’t believe him.

“You’ve always said one thing and meant another. I see it clearly. You needn’t lie.”

“The day Lydia was injured, you tended her day and night for a month. The day she left the hospital, you bought her a house, a car, settled her family.”

“These three years, even while ‘dating’ Elena, you never placed her first. Those ‘two hours not mine’-leaving abruptly, breaking promises-it was all for Lydia, wasn’t it?”

Nathaniel was speechless.

His hand trembled around the phone. Fear pooled in his chest.

He defended himself.

“It isn’t true. I feel only guilt toward Lydia. I want only to heal her leg.”

“The one I truly love is Elena. Only Elena.”

Mrs. Prescott sounded bewildered. She asked, almost without thinking,

“But Nathaniel, your actions-what we all witness-go far beyond guilt.”