I Won’t Knock on That Door Again

"Lindsay, close the door."

Shane Grant stood in the entryway. He glanced first at the frightened cat hiding under the sofa before turning his attention to me.

Willa Young had already changed into slippers.

A matching pair of men's slippers sat in the shoe cabinet, clearly not something that had been prepared at the last minute.

I closed the door and looked down to find a pair of disposable slippers by my feet.

Shane's tone was flat.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming early?"

"I messaged you."

"I was in a meeting. I didn't check my phone."

Once he finished speaking, he handed his suit jacket to Willa.

She took it naturally, turned around, and hung it in the closet. Then she walked straight to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of sparkling water as if she knew the place by heart.

The cat poked its head out from under the sofa.

Willa crouched down and held out a hand to it gently.

"Muffin, mummy’s home."

The coldness between Shane's brows softened slightly.

"Don't spoil him. He scratched up the curtains again."

I stood there, my fingernails slowly digging into my palms.

So, his name was Muffin, and this home didn't just have Willa's fingerprint, slippers, and cup; it also had a cat that waited for her to come home.

I had been here more than a dozen times, yet I still had to bring my own spare toothbrush.

Willa picked up the cat as if she finally remembered I was there.

"Lindsay, don't misunderstand. Shane is busy with work. I only come over occasionally to take care of Muffin."

I asked, "How often is 'occasionally'?"

Her hand paused as she stroked the cat's back.

"Three or four times a week. Sometimes, if it gets too late, I sleep in the guest room."

Shane frowned.

"Does asking all this really matter?"

"It does."

I looked at him.

"Shane, we've been together for three years, yet I have to tell you in advance before I can even come into your home. She can come and go whenever she wants, and she can even stay overnight. Do you think that's fair?"

He walked over to the kitchen island and poured himself a glass of water.

"Willa takes care of Muffin. She needs access."

"What about me?"

"You don't."

I couldn't help laughing.

"I'm your girlfriend, but apparently I have no reason to enter your home?"

"Lindsay, your relationship with me doesn't give you the right to cross my boundaries."

Shane set down his glass and lightly tapped his fingers against the counter twice.

It was a habit of his whenever he grew impatient.

"I've told you many times that I don't like people intruding on my private space. You showing up without warning today was inappropriate to begin with."

"But Willa doesn't count as an intrusion."

"She's different from you."

Willa lowered her eyes and softly tried to placate him.

"Shane, don't say that. Lindsay will feel hurt. Why don't I just delete my fingerprint? I can always ask building management to let me in from now on."

She said she would delete it, but made no move to do so.

Sure enough, Shane stopped her.

"There's no need. Muffin depends on you. We don't have to change the arrangement just because she's upset."

Muffin jumped out of Willa's arms, walked around me, and settled comfortably at Shane's feet.

He bent down and stroked its head.

Three years ago, I fell in love with an orange cat outside a pet store after its previous owner returned it.

I begged Shane three times to let me adopt it, but he refused every time.

I thought that was one of his firm boundaries.

Now I finally understood that his boundaries depended on who it was.

I took the tie I'd bought for him out of my bag and placed it on the kitchen island.

Today was our third anniversary.

I came early because I wanted to surprise him.

Willa glanced at the gift box and suddenly smiled. "That tie looks familiar. Shane, don't you already have one like it?"

Shane opened the box and took one look.

"Yeah. You gave me something similar last month."

Willa gave me an apologetic look.

"My mistake. I thought he would've told you."

Shane closed the box again and pushed it back toward me.

"Take it back and return it. No point wasting money."

"Do you remember what today is?"

He raised his wrist and glanced at the time.

"Thursday."

Willa's phone suddenly rang.

After she ended the call, she looked troubled.

"The vet said Muffin is due for his booster shot, but I already have plans tonight."

Shane picked up his car keys.

"I'll go with you."

Only when he reached the entryway did he turn back to look at me.

"You should head home too. Next time, wait until I confirm before coming over."

I didn't take the box of ties.

I only asked quietly, "Shane, what if I want access to this place too?"

He was silent for two seconds.

"Lindsay, don't test me like this."

The door closed in front of me.

The next afternoon, Shane sent me a message.

[My attitude last night wasn't great, but you showing up without warning was a problem too. We both need to reflect on it. Let's leave it at that.]

I stared at the message for a long time before replying with a simple [Okay.]

He quickly sent me an address.

[Department dinner tonight. Haven't you always wanted to meet my coworkers? Be there at six.]

For the past three years, he had never taken me to any work gatherings.

I thought our argument the night before had finally made him change.

After work, I even went home to change into a dress.

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, the private room was already full.

There was an empty seat beside Shane.

I had just started walking toward it when Willa came in carrying a cake. She smiled and said, "Sorry I'm late. I got held up changing Muffin's medication."

Someone immediately called out to her.

"Mrs. Grant, we saved you a seat."

Willa blushed.

"Don't call me that. Miss Reed is still here."

The room fell silent for a moment.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward me at once.

Shane didn't explain anything. He simply pulled out the chair beside him for Willa.

"Sit."

I stood by the table, staring at the seat that had originally looked as though it had been saved for me.

One of his coworkers quickly tried to smooth things over.

"Miss Reed, why don't you sit over here? You can get acquainted with Julian Cole while you're at it. I heard from Mr. Grant that your companies have been working together recently?"

I sat at the far end of the table.

So, Shane hadn't brought me here to acknowledge our relationship.

Our two companies were jointly bidding on a project, and he simply needed me to meet the attorney handling the contract review.

Once dinner officially began, every conversation revolved around the project.

Shane ate quietly, occasionally turning to answer something Willa said.

The plate in front of me remained empty the entire time.

Most of the dishes on the table contained peanuts.

I had a severe allergy.

Willa had chosen the restaurant.

During the first year of our relationship, I ended up in the hospital after accidentally eating peanut butter.

Shane stayed with me until the early hours of the morning and even saved my allergen information in his phone.

I thought he would at least remember that.

But he only glanced at me.

"Why aren't you eating?"

"There's nothing I can eat."

"Stop being picky."

Willa immediately called a server over.

"Could we add an order of salad, please? No peanuts. Lindsay's allergic to them. Shane, did you forget?"

Shane paused briefly.

"I've had a lot going on lately."

He didn't apologize.

Instead, Willa was the one who spoke to me gently.

"He can't even remember his own birthday, so don't take it personally. We've known each other for ten years, and sometimes he even forgets what I'm allergic to."

Someone at the table laughed. "Oh, come on. Last time you had an allergic reaction to peaches, Mr. Grant sent back every fruit basket the vendors gave us."

Someone else chimed in.

"Mr. Grant doesn't have a bad memory. He only remembers the things that matter."

The room suddenly went quiet.

The person who said it realized how inappropriate it sounded and awkwardly took a sip of wine.

Shane finally frowned.

But not at them.

"Lindsay, don't make that face. Everyone's just joking."

He said it so casually, as if my humiliation was nothing more than an awkward overreaction.

I forced a faint smile.

"Did you ask me here tonight because you wanted to discuss work?"

He wiped his hands.

"What else would it be?"

"Do your coworkers know we're dating?"

Shane's eyes darkened slightly.

"It was one joke. Do you really have to make an issue of it in front of everyone?"

"There's no reason to bring our private relationship into the workplace. You're part of the project team. Don't let personal emotions affect how other people judge your professionalism."

My fingertips instantly turned cold, and I stood up to grab my bag.

Willa stood too.

"Don't leave. I'll make them apologize to you."

"No need."

I looked at Shane and said quietly, "Mr. Grant is right. Personal relationships shouldn't interfere with work."

Shane's brow twitched.

For the first time, I didn't wait for him to drive me home. I pushed open the private room door and left alone.

Just before the door closed, I heard one of his coworkers lower his voice.

"Mr. Grant, is she really your girlfriend?"

After a brief silence, Shane answered calmly,

"She’s just a fling. Don't say things like that in front of Willa."

As it turned out, Shane really did keep work and his personal life completely separate.

The next afternoon, before the bidding rehearsal, my assistant came rushing over with the revised schedule, looking stunned.

"Miss Reed, why did they change the lead presenter's name?"

I took the sheet and looked at it.

The lead presentation slot that had originally belonged to me now had Willa's name written there instead.

This residential proposal, from the initial concept to more than three hundred drawings, represented six months of work that my team and I had poured ourselves into.

Willa had only sat in on two meetings.

I gripped the schedule and pushed open the conference room door.

"Shane, explain this."

He was bent over adjusting the projector for Willa. When he heard me, he only lifted his eyes briefly.

"Last-minute change. Willa will present. You'll handle the Q&A.

"She's the marketing director. She's a better speaker than you."

I placed the schedule on the table.

"The core concept, floor plans, and models are all mine. Willa hasn't even checked the dimensions on the drawings. What qualifies her to give the main presentation?"

Willa closed her laptop and spoke softly. "I wasn't trying to take credit for your work. Shane said you've been emotionally unstable lately, and he was worried you might lose control during the presentation."

"When have I ever lost control?"

Shane answered for her.

"Last night. You questioned me about our personal relationship in front of the entire team. That already affected the working atmosphere."

Shane pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit.

"Lindsay, I know you're bothered by how close Willa and I are. But this is a forty-million-dollar project. I can't use it to soothe your feelings."

His tone remained calm.

Yet every word he said dismissed my professionalism.

"So, you're handing my work over to her?"

"She's only presenting it."

"What about the credit?"

I flipped to the last page of the schedule.

The lead designer's name had been changed to Willa's too.

No one in the conference room spoke.

Several team members lowered their heads, avoiding my eyes.

Shane rubbed his brow.

"The client has more confidence in Willa. Having her name on the project gives us a better chance of winning the bid. Once we land it, you won't lose out on the bonus or profit share."

Willa held out a glass of warm water to me.

"Don't be angry. Once we win the bid, I'll make sure to mention you at the celebration."

I didn't take it.

"Have you even seen the first draft of this proposal?"

Willa couldn't answer.

Shane finally lost his patience and spoke coldly.

"Starting today, you're off the presentation team. Hand the remaining materials over to Willa. You don't need to attend any more meetings."

My chest tightened.

"Shane, what gives you the right to remove me?"

"I'm the overall project lead."

"I own the copyright."

"The contract states very clearly that all design work created during the project belongs to the joint team."

He knew me too well.

He knew that back then, because I wanted to work with him, I hadn't read every clause of that contract carefully.

When he handed it to me, he only said one thing.

"I won't let you lose out."

So, I signed it.

Willa walked over to me, her voice gentle.

"Lindsay, don't let relationship problems hold everyone back, okay? Shane's only doing what's best for the project."

I pulled out the projector cable.

The screen instantly went black.

Shane grabbed my wrist. His grip was restrained, but firm enough that I couldn't pull free.

"Stop making a scene. Plug it back in. When the project is over, I'll make it up to you.

"Willa needs this project to establish herself. You've already won two awards. You don't need this one."

I stared into his eyes.

"So, because she needs it, I'm supposed to step aside?"

Shane didn't answer directly.

"Why are you comparing yourself to her?"

Suddenly, I didn't want to argue anymore.

I relaxed my wrist, and he loosened his grip too.

I handed the cable to Willa.

"Fine. You present it."

Shane's expression eased slightly.

"I'll come see you after work. We'll talk then."

"No need."

I turned and walked out of the conference room.

Just before the elevator doors closed, the project assistant hurried after me and shoved a file envelope into my hands.

"Miss Reed, these are some old documents Mr. Grant told me to clear out. They were supposed to be shredded, but I thought there might be something of yours inside."

I opened the envelope.

The first thing I saw was the complaint record from the Young Designers Competition three years ago.

The person named in the complaint was Willa Young.

The complainant's signature was mine.

And tucked behind the final page of the case notes was an internal email personally signed by Shane.

The subject line contained only one sentence.

[Plan to Approach Lindsay Reed and Persuade Her to Withdraw the Complaint]

Three years ago, I entered the Young Designers Competition.

The night before the finals, my entry was leaked online. Willa presented an almost identical proposal and won the gold award.

I filed a complaint.

But the organizers said there wasn't enough evidence and urged me to accept a settlement.

Shane appeared when I felt most helpless.

He helped me contact a lawyer, stayed with me while I organized the evidence, and even sat by my side all night when I came down with a high fever.

Later, the drive containing the evidence was accidentally damaged, and I could no longer pursue the complaint.

He told me, "Let it go. Don't let one competition hold you back. You still have me."

That was when I started falling in love with him.

For the past three years, it was also the only thing that convinced me he had ever loved me.

But the email was dated seven days before we first met.

I kept turning the pages.

Willa sent him a message.

[Lindsay may still have backups. Your father said if this gets out of hand, it'll affect the company's next round of financing.]

Shane replied: [I'll approach her.]

[She's very guarded. Are you sure you can handle her?]

[People who crave affection are the easiest to deal with. Show her a little patience, and she'll give up on her own.]

The final message was sent the day after we officially started dating.

Willa asked him: [Has she withdrawn the complaint yet?]

Shane replied: [Almost. She's easy to pacify.]

The pages trembled softly in my hands.

At that exact moment, my phone lit up.

It was my mother calling.

She was having surgery to remove a tumor today.

Shane promised he would come.

By the time I reached the hospital, the nurse had already come by twice to hurry us.

My mother lay in the hospital bed, her face pale.

"Is Shane stuck in traffic?"

"Yeah. He'll be here soon."

I walked into the stairwell and called Shane.

He didn't answer the first time.

He declined the second call.

On the third attempt, Willa answered.

"Lindsay, Shane can't talk right now."

"Put him on the phone."

"Muffin ran away. We're looking for him right now. He's easily frightened, and it's raining outside. He's in real danger."

I tightened my grip on the phone.

"My mother's surgery starts in half an hour. Shane promised he'd be here."

Willa fell silent for a moment.

"But your mother has doctors, and you're there with her. Muffin only has us."

Shane took the phone from her.

His breathing was slightly labored, and I could hear rain in the background.

"Lindsay, I remember your mother's surgery, but Muffin is missing."

"If you come now, you can still make it in time."

"Willa's so anxious that her asthma is acting up. I can't leave her here alone."

"What about my mother?"

"It's a routine procedure. The risk is very low. Having you there is enough."

He paused, then softened his tone.

"Be good. As soon as we find Muffin, I'll come over."

He said the same thing three years ago when he persuaded me to withdraw my complaint.

"Lindsay, be good. Stop pursuing this. You'll create even better work in the future."

I leaned against the cold wall and asked, "Shane, did you approach me in the first place because of Willa?"

The other end of the line suddenly went silent.

All I could hear was rain pounding against an umbrella.

His silence was already an answer.

"What did you see?"

"Just answer yes or no."

"What happened back then was complicated. I can't explain it over the phone."

"So, the answer is yes."

Shane's voice turned somber.

"At first, yes, it had something to do with her. But that changed later. Lindsay, stop obsessing over this."

"Who damaged the drive with my evidence?"

"I don't know."

He answered too quickly.

Beside him, Willa tearfully called out Muffin's name.

Shane immediately said, "I have to go. I'll contact you later."

The call ended.

A nurse opened the stairwell door.

"Miss Reed, we're taking your mother into the operating room now."

I wiped the tears from my face.

As my mother was wheeled into the operating room, she was still trying to comfort me.

"Don't blame Shane. Work is important."

I held her hand and nodded with a smile.

Four hours later, the surgery ended successfully.

Shane finally sent me a message.

[We found the cat. How is your mother?]

I didn't reply.

I scanned the entire old complaint file and logged back into an email account I hadn't used in three years.

In the recipient field, I entered the complaint addresses for the competition committee, the client overseeing our joint project, and the industry association.

The attachments included my original drafts from three years ago, Shane's internal emails, and the cloud backup records I had just recovered.

Finally, I opened the joint project's online portal.

I withdrew my design authorization.

Then I removed my electronic signature.

Two warnings appeared in succession.

[Once authorization is withdrawn, the project will no longer be eligible to participate in the bidding process.]

[Confirm withdrawal?]

I clicked confirm.

At the same time, Shane sent me a voice message.

"Lindsay, I'll give you access to my apartment. Stop making a fuss. I'll pick you up from the hospital tonight."

I didn't finish listening.

On the screen, the progress bar for the complaint email reached the end.

[Sent successfully.]