Chapter302 – Atticus, come here…
Their shadows stretched long beneath the streetlights. Passersby couldn’t help but glance their way. Atticus, however, had eyes only for the woman beside him—and so he never noticed the cold, razor-sharp stare following them from behind.
Natalie had never seen that expression on Atticus’s face.
Clarissa was still wearing the same trench coat she’d arrived in—but everything else had changed. Her clothes, her jewelry, even her hair. She looked radiant, intimate in a way that made Natalie’s blood boil.
Her eyes reddened. Her fingers clenched her purse so tightly her nails dug into her palm.
When did this happen?
How did they get together?
She couldn’t understand it. By the time she got home, her restraint snapped. Anything within reach was smashed to pieces.
The servants didn’t dare approach until they heard the crisp clack of wooden clogs.
“Miss Yuriko…”
Yuriko Nomiya stopped outside the room where the noise was coming from. She glanced at the servants calmly. “What’s wrong with the young lady?”
“We don’t know. She flew into a rage as soon as she got back. Please… go see her. The young lady listens to you.”
Yuriko smiled faintly, lifted her sachet, and stepped inside.
“I don’t want to see anyone! Get out!” Natalie screamed, hurling the sachet on instinct—but Yuriko dodged it effortlessly.
“What could have made our Miss Natalie so angry?” Yuriko asked mildly.
Natalie froze, then spun around. Seeing Yuriko was like spotting a lifeline. She rushed forward and grabbed her hand. “Yuriko—what are you doing here?”
“It’s been so long. I thought I’d visit an old friend.” Her gaze softened. “What’s wrong?”
Natalie’s eyes filled instantly with tears. She clutched Yuriko’s hand. “Yuriko, you have to help me. I really like Mr. Atticus…”
As Natalie poured everything out, Yuriko listened in silence. When she finished, surprise flickered across Yuriko’s face—then slowly melted into a smile.
“So that’s how it is…”
Out of Natalie’s sight, something dark flashed in Yuriko’s eyes.
Natalie noticed the smile and frowned. “Yuriko… do you know them?”
“We’ve crossed paths before,” Yuriko replied lightly.
“Then you have to help me.” Natalie’s gaze sharpened with venom.
Yuriko shook her head. “Natalie, this isn’t something to rush into.”
“Clarissa is easy to deal with. The Wraith family may be powerful, but their influence doesn’t extend beyond the country.”
Hesitation flickered through Yuriko’s eyes. “Let me think about it.”
“No, Yuriko—”
But no matter how Natalie pleaded, Yuriko refused, only saying, “I’m busy helping my father with the flower fields. Don’t act on impulse. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
With that, she turned and left.
Natalie stared after her, furious. Yuriko was always like this—overthinking everything.
Her mind spiraled, filled with only one thought.
How do I get rid of Clarissa?
She took a deep breath, gazing out at the garden. Suddenly, inspiration struck.
“I’ve got it!”
Elsewhere, Yuriko exhaled softly. When she was certain no one was watching, a look of pure excitement spread across her face. Clutching the sachet to her chest, she breathed heavily, murmuring to herself:
“Atticus… we’ve finally met again…”
.......
Clarissa barely touched her food. Instead, her gaze lingered on the man across from her.
Atticus’s profile was flawless—youthful yet sharp. Even at forty, his face would still be devastatingly handsome. Though he appeared focused on eating, he was keenly aware of her eyes on him.
They went straight home after dinner.
The moment the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely.
Clarissa wrapped her arms around his neck, responding without hesitation. Her obedience lit something dangerous in him. With a dull thud, she was pressed against the door, the kiss deepening until her breath came in gasps.
Clothes slipped to the floor.
Leaning weakly against the entryway, Clarissa panted, “Let’s… go inside. This is exhausting…”
Atticus kissed her forehead, scooped her up, and carried her straight to the bedroom.
Time blurred.
When Clarissa finally stirred back to awareness, the first thing she noticed was his chest beneath her. She was sprawled across him, his heartbeat strong and uneven, both of them slick with sweat.
Seeing how utterly spent she was, Atticus didn’t push further. He simply held her, slowing his breathing, letting their hearts settle together.
Eventually, silence returned.
Clarissa glanced instinctively at the clock.
Two in the morning.
She propped herself up against his chest, ready to scold him—only to meet his gaze. His expression was gentle, deep with affection, his attention fixed entirely on her.
“Clarissa…”
Fully sated and utterly content, the man clung to her like a large, affectionate dog, nuzzling her nose and forehead, his gaze locked onto hers.
Clarissa’s heart thudded violently. The words she wanted to say lodged in her throat.
She leaned weakly against his chest and murmured, “Atticus…”
“Hm? What is it?”
He was smiling—bright, energized, showing not a trace of exhaustion. Meanwhile, she felt wrung dry. Nestling closer, she whispered, “Atticus… you’re so handsome.”
He hadn’t expected that. Just as he was about to respond, she continued, her voice soft, almost casual.
“You shouldn’t keep making me so many desserts anymore. Cakes, pastries… all of it.”
He frowned. “Why are you suddenly talking about that?”
Clarissa pressed her lips together and looped her arms around his neck, her gaze drifting to the black begonia tattoo stretching from his chest to his collarbone. “Too much sugar makes you age faster. I want to quit.”
“No.”
The refusal came instantly, sharp and absolute.
“Atticus…”
He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were steady, his voice firm beyond doubt.
“As long as I’m here, Clarissa will always be beautiful.”
She froze. “What does that even mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “I’m a medical professional. There’s nothing I can’t do. So believe me. Please.”
“You said before—if someone younger, prettier ever appeared—you’d still choose me. Then I’ll choose Clarissa too. Young or old. Beautiful or not. As long as it’s you, everything is fine.”
He rested his forehead against hers, eyes slowly closing, his voice roughening.
“And I swore I would never let you give up anything for me again.”
Clarissa went still.
Her eyes filled instantly, tears threatening to spill. The man in front of her felt achingly familiar—and painfully unfamiliar at the same time. The sharp-tongued, arrogant boy was gone. In his place stood someone who truly respected her.
Someone who had restrained his own bloodlust and wildness, like a wounded beast with its claws curled inward, crouched in the dark, cautiously licking old scars.
Her heart twisted.
She could feel how deeply he loved her—and yet, why did it hurt so much?
“Atticus!”
She threw her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, tears sliding down her face without a sound.
Atticus… how am I supposed to love you?
For the first time, she understood that loving someone could feel unbearably heavy.
Her throat burned. She couldn’t speak.
She lifted his face and, in the darkness, kissed his lips. Once, she’d wished only for him to have a brilliant future and a shining life. Now, she wanted something else entirely.
She wanted her Atticus to live happily. Healthily. In peace.
This time, let me love you.
Let the fearless, radiant Atticus come back…
......
The next morning, Atticus was awakened by piano music.
They’d stayed up all night again. He rolled over instinctively, reaching for the warmth beside him—and touched nothing.
His heart lurched. “Clarissa!”
He followed the sound to the music room.
Clarissa sat at the piano.
Startled, she stopped mid-note and turned around. When she saw him standing in the doorway, her expression shifted between amusement and helplessness.
He was completely naked, hair a mess, nothing like the impeccably composed man he usually was.
She laughed softly. “What are you doing? Go take a shower.”
The tension drained from him all at once. Looking utterly foolish, he turned and left without a word.
The hot water cleared the haze from his mind.
After showering and changing the sheets, Atticus emerged in a white T-shirt and gray lounge pants. The moment he opened the door, he saw a carefully prepared breakfast laid out on the table.
Clarissa approached him. “Go eat first. I’ll make you some tea.”
She turned back toward the kitchen.
Atticus sat down and picked up a small steamed bun, taking a bite. The familiar taste made his eyes darken.
He knew instantly—she’d made these herself.
He ate several more before stopping.
That must have taken time. Effort.
When did she even wake up?
Clarissa returned with tea, poured him a cup, and smiled faintly. “Eat slowly.”
Then she left again. Moments later, the piano music resumed.
Atticus finished quickly and headed straight for the music room.
He didn’t interrupt her—just stood quietly in the doorway, watching.
When the final note faded, Clarissa lowered her hands and looked up. Then she smiled and beckoned.
“Atticus, come here…”
His pupils tightened. It felt exactly like before—like the past folding back onto itself. Under her gaze, he walked over and sat beside her.
His emotions tangled tightly in his chest.
“I wrote something new,” she said softly. “Will you listen?”
“Mmm.”
She lowered her head and began to play. The melody filled the room, gentle and harmonious, calming a heart that had been restless for years.
She stopped halfway through. “Was it good?”
“Everything you play is beautiful,” he replied instinctively. Then, more thoughtfully, “Are you planning to release it?”
Clarissa smiled, closing the piano lid. She hooked an arm around his neck and leaned close, her breath warm against his ear.
“We’ll see. Right now… I just want to be with you.”
His body trembled.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
They stayed like that for a long time—no words, no movement—yet both felt an overwhelming, quiet sense of fulfillment.
Clarissa drew in a deep breath, inhaling the faint medicinal scent that clung to him, and reminded him reluctantly, “Atticus…”
“Hm?”
“You should go to work.”
Atticus hugged her tighter, clearly unwilling. Ever since she’d been back in his life, the thought of leaving for work felt unbearable.
Clarissa cupped his face and laughed softly. “Atticus, you’ve been misbehaving again…”
He looked at her intently. “Clarissa… will you come with me?”
“Who brings their partner to work?” She leaned against his shoulder, lazily tracing circles on his chest with her fingertip. “Besides…” she murmured, voice teasing, “if I’m there, are you sure you’d actually be able to focus?”
Given his temperament, who knew what outrageous things he might do? Yesterday’s impulsive visit had already ended with the two of them tangled up in his office for far too long. That kind of thrill was fine once in a while—but too often, and her heart really wouldn’t be able to take it.
Her touch sent his heartbeat spiraling instantly. His breathing deepened as he abruptly caught her wandering hand. “I—”
“Silly Atticus.” Clarissa chuckled, slipping free and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Go to work. Be good. I’ll wait for you at home, okay?”