For Her Heart Again

---Inside Grayson’s room, he walked out of the bathroom in a bathrobe, using a towel to dry his hair.He moved toward the bed and noticed Emma was no longer in the room."Hah… She knows her place," Grayson snorted, then tapped a button near the bed. A bell rang, and a servant quickly entered."Young Master," the servant said, bowing slightly."Get a new bedsheet and change this one," Grayson ordered."Yes, Young Master," the servant replied, bowing again before leaving to fetch fresh sheets.Grayson changed into his pajamas and walked into the study in his room to handle some important work matters. By the time he finished and returned, the bed had already been made with clean sheets. He climbed into it and closed his eyes to rest.…"You wretched girl, come out of your room now! Why are you still in bed?" a sharp voice shouted outside Emma’s door, followed by a loud bang. Emma jolted awake from her sleep because of the noise.She rushed to the door and opened it, only to be met with

---Emma looked up, startled, just as Dexter froze and turned toward the source of the voice."We weren’t doing anything!" Emma said quickly, snatching her arm back and adjusting her clothes, which were still partly caught in Dexter’s grip.Grayson’s eyes narrowed, his voice cold. “Grayson, why would you make Emma stand here for so long? Can’t you see she’s injured?” Dexter asked, stepping protectively in front of her.Grayson scoffed, folding his arms. “So what if she’s injured? She’s my servant, not yours. Don’t meddle in what doesn’t concern you.”Dexter’s fists clenched, but he knew better than to argue head-on. Instead, he gently grabbed Emma’s wrist. “Come on, Emma. You’re coming with me.”Emma didn’t move. She stood frozen, her gaze cast to the ground, her lips trembling.“What’s wrong with you, Emma? Let’s go,” Dexter said more firmly, confusion flashing in his eyes.“Dexter, leave,” Grayson said sharply. “Don’t interfere with my business.”“I’m not going anywhere,” Dext

---The rest of the week passed with an unusual calmness. The storm that had shaken Emma’s world just days ago had faded into silence. Grayson had kept his distance—no harsh words, no unpredictable gestures.Just quiet, subtle interactions. Whether it was guilt or simply distraction, Emma didn’t know. But the space he gave her helped her wounds, both visible and hidden, begin to mend.She used the time to regain her strength, physically and emotionally. The bandages were changed daily. Although her meals weren't nutritious enough, every other thing was good as no one bothered her.But now, it was the night before she was set to resume work at the coffee shop. She knew she couldn’t sneak out without Grayson finding out—especially while he remained in the country. So she resolved to tell him, fearing what his reaction might be, yet knowing she had to do it.That evening, as she carried a tray down the hallway to call him for dinner, her steps slowed near his study door. She raised her h

---*Emma at the Café*The bell above the door jingled softly as Emma stepped into the familiar warmth of the café. The scent of coffee and baked pastries instantly wrapped around her like a blanket. It felt like returning to a safer version of herself.“Emma!!” a familiar voice called from behind the counter.She looked up to see Miranda, her best friend, and the café manager and one of the few people who’d always been kind to her. Miranda rushed over and pulled her into a gentle hug.“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” Miranda said, pulling back. “You okay?”Emma smiled faintly. “I needed something normal again. I’m fine now, really.”Miranda studied her face for a second but didn’t press. “Well, I am so happy to have you back. Come on, there’s a fresh batch of croissants that need arranging.”Emma nodded and slipped into her apron, grateful for the distraction.As the morning rush trickled in, she focused on her tasks: wiping tables, serving drinks, smiling at regulars. For a few hou

---Dexter's Apartment – NightDexter stepped into his dimly lit apartment and quietly shut the door behind him. He rested his back against it, exhaling deeply, his face shadowed with emotion. The image of Emma’s face—her wide, wary eyes, the way she instinctively recoiled from his nearness—flashed through his mind. A heaviness settled in his chest.He stood still for a long moment, as if frozen by regret, before pushing himself off the door and walking slowly to his room.Inside, everything was neat, almost untouched. He made his way to the wooden cabinet in the corner, knelt down, and pulled out a small metal box from the bottom drawer. His fingers trembled slightly as he opened it. Inside was a single photo, slightly worn at the edges.In the picture stood a much younger Grayson, expression blank and arms loosely crossed. Next to her, Emma beamed brightly, her arm around the late Whitney Miller, who smiled with soft eyes. Dexter stood beside Emma, slightly apart, but his gaze in th