Chapter 2186
Perhaps this was what people meant when they said love could fill an empty stomach—the kind of sweetness that turned plain water into a feast, the kind that made foolish decisions feel like treasure.
Chelsea ended the call with Cecilia, her cheeks still warm from their shared laughter. Without hesitation, she spun on her heel and hurried back into the boutique.
The clerks blinked in surprise. Moments earlier, they had assumed the slender girl had balked at the price and left for good.
Instead, before anyone could greet her, Chelsea extended her debit card, her voice steady. “I’ll take it.” No bargaining. No small talk. Just the quiet certainty that sometimes the heart demanded extravagance.
She declined the offer of gift wrapping, only asking the attendant to carefully steam the fabric.
Though puzzled, the woman complied, smoothing every crease until the cloth looked as though it had been born of light itself.
As she worked, the clerk murmured instructions—how the iron should glide, never linger, how heat could scorch something so delicate.
Chelsea watched intently, nodding with solemn focus. “Yes, thank you,” she said, as if being entrusted with a secret.
When the last wisp of steam faded, she refused even a shopping bag, hugging the freshly pressed garment to her chest and weaving through the afternoon traffic as though she were carrying sunrise itself.
Back in the modest apartment, the evening hummed with the soft buzz of Jason’s laptop.
Jason sat cross-legged on their threadbare couch, fingers flying over the keyboard, one eye constantly flicking toward the door.
When Chelsea finally slipped inside, she tucked the new purchase beneath her coat before he could notice.
“Jason, why are you still awake?” she asked, her tone casual as she edged down the hallway.
The moment he saw her, the memory of her earlier kiss flared on his cheek, hot enough that he had to clear his throat.
“Just finished the last spreadsheet,” he muttered. “Was about to turn in.”
“Then don’t wait,” Chelsea replied, already retreating toward her room. “Go wash up and rest.”
Jason frowned at her quick escape. “Didn’t you buy anything while you were out?”
“Oh, Cecilia and I grabbed a bite. Her kids needed her, so I came back early,” Chelsea called back. Inside her room, she immediately unfolded the garment, smoothed it carefully, and hid it away like contraband.
Watching her strange behavior, Jason could only chuckle—confused, but amused.
He stretched and shuffled toward the bathroom, exhaustion finally weighing on him. Work could have waited until morning, but he had stayed up simply because Chelsea wasn’t home yet.
Morning light spilled across the ceiling when Jason woke to the hiss of an iron.
He padded into the living room—and stopped.
Chelsea stood by the ironing board, shoulders squared, carefully pressing what looked suspiciously like the shirt he had ruined in the wash.
When she noticed him, she set the iron aside and grinned, eyes bright.
“I noticed your shirt was a little wrinkled after the wash, so I pressed it for you,” she said lightly. She lifted the shirt, the fabric gleaming in the sunlight, flawless and crisp.
Jason stepped closer, curiosity pulling him in. He pinched the cuff, traced the seam, his brow furrowing in disbelief. The shirt looked as though it had just come off a department store rack.
“You did this yourself?” His voice carried genuine doubt.
Chelsea nodded with exaggerated confidence. “Of course. So? Not bad, right?”
“It’s amazing,” Jason said softly, a quiet smile breaking through.
Seeing that he believed her, the invisible weight on Chelsea’s chest finally eased. If he ever found out she’d bought a brand-new shirt, he’d never accept it. She had no choice but to bend the truth.
Jason practically glowed, like a boy given his first bicycle.
“Thank you, Chelsea,” he said.
“Don’t mention it. Now go eat before work,” she urged, waving him off. “I’ve decided it’s time I found a job too.”
I need to earn money quickly—and repay Cecilia.
Jason nodded. “All right.”
That morning, Chelsea bought nothing more indulgent than scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes—far humbler than the meals of previous days.
Once Jason left, fed and cheerful, Chelsea opened her laptop and began scrolling through job listings.
Under normal circumstances, companies would have competed for her résumé. But many of their CEOs were old friends of Kingston and Phoebe Rainsworth.
One phone call from her parents—and HR never even opened her emails.