Chapter 2184

Jason listened, calm as dusk. No irritation touched his eyes. He simply crossed the cramped kitchen in three steady strides, as if closing the distance might also erase her guilt.

“Chelsea, you really don’t have to do all this,” he said gently, almost apologetically. “Just stay here and live well. I can still take care of us.”

He bent down, eased the damp rag from her fingers, and offered a crooked smile. “All right. Go sit down and take a breath. I’ll handle the mess.”

Chelsea didn’t move. Sorrow swelled behind her ribs until even breathing felt like a punishment.

“Jason… why don’t you teach me?” The words slipped out—fragile, yet stubborn.

There was a time when she had thought herself untouchable. She spoke four languages, sparred effortlessly with executives, dissected market charts, glided across ballroom floors, and coaxed music from ivory keys. She had believed that made her complete.

Only now did she realize she couldn’t even manage the simplest rhythms of ordinary life.

“I can’t teach you,” Jason said, shaking his head. His answer was as immovable as stone.

Confusion flooded her face. She caught his hand, her fingers tightening. “Why not? Please don’t think you’re mistreating me. I want to learn. Aren’t these the things most people do?”

Jason met her gaze steadily. “You’re not most people. You were born never having to scrub a floor. The moment I chose you, I promised myself you’d never have to—unless I’m dead.”

He meant every word.

Chelsea had been the woman he loved at first sight—his first love, once so distant she felt like a dream he didn’t dare touch.

Now that the dream was real, he guarded it like breath.

She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say that.”

Her rebuke trembled, as though even the words might shatter.

Jason wrapped his fingers around hers and lowered her hand gently.
“I’m serious. As long as I’m here, you won’t do a single chore. Now please—rest. Let me finish this.”

Chelsea tried to protest one last time, but he was already guiding her into the living room before the words could form.

With no fight left, she sank onto the couch and watched him work—his silhouette framed by kitchen light, sleeves rolled up, shoulders bent with quiet focus.

Chelsea wasn’t the fragile socialite people imagined. She had chosen Jason knowing full well the life that existed beyond the gates of privilege.

Yet watching him scrub after a full day of work bruised something deep inside her—an ache where shame and pity tangled together.

Unable to sit still, she slipped toward the balcony, hoping to grab a broom and help in some small way.

The narrow balcony smelled faintly of detergent in the moonlight. As she reached for the broom, her gaze snagged on the suit jacket Jason had hung in the corner.

Her heart lurched.

The once-crisp jacket now hung limp and wrinkled, unfit for any office.

Only then did she realize the second mistake she’d made that night.

She took the jacket down carefully, snapped a discreet photo, and called into the kitchen, “Jason, a friend wants to drag me out for some late-night shopping. I’m heading out.”

Jason glanced back, sponge dripping. “It’s late. I’ll drive you.”

“No need,” she said quickly, tossing the excuse out with practiced ease. “If you show up and she’s there, it’ll get awkward.”

Thankfully, his shoulders relaxed. “All right. Come back early. If it gets late, call me. I’ll pick you up—no matter the hour.”

Chelsea nodded emphatically, the motion almost childlike.
“Okay.”

The word came out soft, carrying acceptance instead of defiance. Then she rose onto her toes and pressed a quick, warm kiss to his cheek—light as a feather, yet thunderous in the quiet room.

Color rushed to Jason’s face. Heat flared under his skin, his pulse hammering as if every drop of blood had begun to boil.

Catching his stunned look, Chelsea curved her lips in triumph. “All right then. Bye-bye!”

Only after the door clicked shut did Jason come back to himself.

He touched the spot on his cheek where she’d kissed him, his pulse still racing.

Forcing the emotion down, he turned back to the sink and plunged his hands into the suds, scrubbing pans before his feelings could betray him.

Outside, Chelsea inhaled the night air. She hadn’t arranged a leisurely shopping trip with anyone.

Instead, she headed straight for the boutique where Jason had bought that suit.