Tu m'as rejeté, puis je suis devenue une héritière

"Still awake?"

At 10 p.m., the bedroom door swung open.

It was Daisy Duke. She wheeled a light green suitcase behind her, still dressed in the same crisp business suit she’d been wearing in the video.

Instead of jumping up to greet her like I usually would, I stayed curled up on the couch, not even bothering to look up.

"Waiting for you," I said, keeping my voice completely flat.

She walked over, her hands pausing halfway through taking off her necklace.

"What’s there to wait for? We’re basically an old married couple at this point."

"We aren't married yet," I corrected her.

"It’s bound to happen eventually."

When she spoke, a wave of her perfume drifted over. It was a sharp, cool scent of pine, a cologne I never wore.

I let out a soft laugh.

"Daisy, do you actually still want to marry me?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Of course."

Even after telling another man how happy she was with him, she still wanted to marry me. Now, the difference was, I didn't want to anymore.

She slid off her blazer and casually tossed it over the couch. "You should head to bed first. I still need to get over this jet lag."

"Okay." I got up and walked straight into the bedroom while she stared at my back, visibly caught off guard.

I knew what she was thinking. She must be wondering why I was acting so different tonight.

Normally, no matter how late it was, I’d always have a cup of tea waiting for her to settle her stomach and help her unwind. I’d even follow her around like a personal assistant, picking up every piece of clothing she carelessly kicked off, all while blabbering away about how much groceries had gone up this week.

Tonight, though, I didn't do a single thing or say a word.

A few minutes later, she knocked on the bedroom door. "How do you make that tea again?"

"A teaspoon of honey, a squeeze of lemon in a cup of chamomile tea."

In the dark room, she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to rest her hand against my forehead.

"You don't have a fever. What’s wrong with you today?"

I gently brushed her hand away.

"Daisy, where did you actually go on your trip?"

She paused for a second before saying calmly. "Corholt. Just checking the Nasdaq."

Though she wasn't lying, she wasn't telling the whole truth either. When did she get so effortlessly good at lying to my face?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Daisy frowned. She pulled the comforter up over my shoulders and said softly, "Stay in bed. I'll go check."

She turned, stepped out of the bedroom, and opened the front door.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was a mixture of surprise and delight.

I got out of bed, walked into the hallway, and saw Jason Connor. He was standing right outside, wearing the same arrogant, handsome smile he had back at Nasdaq.

"Daisy, you grabbed my suitcase by mistake."

I glanced over. The color, brand, and style were identical.

Jason caught sight of me and raised an eyebrow, waving with over-the-top enthusiasm.

"Hey, Matt, you're up too! Man, this is totally on me. I really shouldn't be interrupting you and Daisy at a time like this."

I didn't say a word.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daisy wheeling the other suitcase out of the guest room. She’d already put her blazer back on and was holding her car keys.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm feeling a bit hungry, so I'm gonna walk Jason down and grab a late-night bite with him."

"Are you two—"

Before I could even finish the sentence, she already had her answer ready.

"Don't get the wrong idea. We just happened to be on the same flight back. Besides, isn’t he your brother? I just took a ride in his car from the airport because it was safer."

I looked right at her.

Her face didn't twitch, and her voice didn't waver for a single second. It was so perfectly delivered that I couldn't find a single crack in it.