Chapter 6

Kate's POV

The mansion felt colder than usual. I shut the door gently behind me, trying not to make a sound as if that would somehow erase the chaos of the night. I half expected to see him waiting in the living room—arms crossed, eyes filled with disappointment, ready to tell me to pack my things and leave.

But… nothing. The room was empty. Still.

I swallowed hard and made my way upstairs. Each step made my nerves coil tighter. I paused in front of his bedroom door and stared at it for a moment. Locked. No light underneath. No sound.

Was he even home? Or was he just… ignoring me?

The thought made my stomach twist. I rushed into my room and locked the door behind me, leaning against it like it could shield me from the weight of what I’d done.

I kept playing it over and over in my head. The way Jeremy pinned me in the bathroom. The look in Mr. William’s eyes when he punched him off me. The way I’d yelled at him like a brat—like he was the one in the wrong.

And the worst part?

I still didn’t know what scared me more: the idea that Mr. William might barge in and scold me… or that he wouldn’t come at all. But he didn’t. He never came.

Eventually, exhaustion won over the spiral of thoughts, and I drifted into a restless sleep, fully clothed and still tense.

—

The next morning, I woke up groggy and on edge. My heart raced as I cracked open the door, listening for any sign of him.

Silence.

Usually, by this time, I’d hear the soft thud of his footsteps downstairs, or the faint beat of music as he did his morning workout in the backyard. But today… it was like he wasn’t even there.

No note.

No coffee smell.

No voice.

Just… silence.

I threw on a hoodie and jeans, barely bothering with my makeup. I didn't want to look cute. I didn’t want him to look at me.

And yet, I hated that he wasn’t looking at me.

I crept down the stairs, half-hoping—half-dreading—that he’d be in the kitchen or hallway. But the house stayed still, untouched, like he had deliberately vanished from every space I used to find him in.

Maybe he was avoiding me now.

My heart sank, but I didn’t have time to unpack that feeling. Not yet. I grabbed my bag and practically ran out of the house. For the first time, I was grateful he wasn’t offering to drive me to school.

I wasn’t ready to face him.

Not after what I said.

Not after how I felt.

The lecture hall was stuffy, the words on the whiteboard a blur. I sat in the second row, pen in hand, notebook open, pretending to pay attention. But nothing was sinking in.

I couldn’t concentrate.

Not on the professor’s voice.

Not on the formulas I was supposed to be copying.

Not on anything except him.

Mr. William.

I kept replaying the look on his face—how angry, how protective, how betrayed he’d looked when I defended Jeremy. I hated myself for it. For being so damn concerned about whether he was mad at me. He wasn’t my father. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He was supposed to be just… a man. My dad’s old friend. So why did it feel like a knife in my chest every time I imagined him turning his back on me?

“Kate?” a voice whispered beside me.

I blinked and looked up. Maya, a classmate with curly hair and soft brown eyes, raised a brow at me. “You okay? You’ve been zoning out since the lecture started.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m good. Just didn’t sleep much.”

She gave me a look that said she didn’t fully believe me but didn’t press. “If you need anything, I’m around.”

“Thanks.”

I went back to pretending to take notes. But in truth, I was writing his name in the margin like some stupid lovesick teenager.

William.

After class, I walked a little faster than usual, hoping to avoid Jeremy.

No luck.

He was waiting outside near the parking lot, leaning against his car like he hadn’t almost assaulted me the night before. Like everything was fine.

“Hey, babe,” he said, flashing a sheepish grin. “Can we talk?”

I hesitated, arms folded across my chest. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “About last night… I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what came over me. I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking. You know I love you, Kate.”

I looked away, jaw tight. His words didn’t move me. They didn’t reach the pit in my chest where guilt and anger and something else I didn’t want to name were tangled together.

Then he added, “Did that man—William—did he disturb you when you got home?”

I snapped my gaze back to him. “What?”

“I mean, the way he acted at the club… if he’s giving you any trouble, you can always come stay with me. My place is free anytime.”

My blood boiled.

I stepped back, my voice low and sharp. “So that’s what this is about? You want me to come live with you so you can try and force yourself on me again?”

His face twisted in confusion and hurt. “Kate, no! That wasn’t what I meant. Last night was a mistake—I had too much to drink and I lost control, but I swear that’s not who I am.”

I didn’t respond right away. I just stared at him, searching his face for something—remorse, sincerity, guilt. It was there. Maybe. But it didn’t matter.

“I don’t believe you,” I said flatly. “And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Let me drop you off—”

“No.”

I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.

As I crossed the street toward the bus stop, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t check it. I didn’t want to know if it was Jeremy. Or worse… if it wasn’t him. Because even now, after everything, all I wanted was to know if Mr. William was still angry with me.

:

The house felt emptier than usual when I got home.

Quiet.

Hollow.

Like it was missing something… no—someone.

I dropped my bag by the stairs and scanned the living room again, expecting, hoping, dreading that Mr. William might appear with his usual calm, unreadable expression. Maybe he’d scold me, ignore me, or give me that cold, disappointed stare I hated more than anything.

But he wasn’t here. Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen.

Not upstairs.

My chest tightened.

I finally turned to the maid, who was dusting the bookshelf like there wasn’t a heavy cloud of absence hanging over the entire mansion.

“Maria,” I said, trying to sound casual, “um… has Mr. William come home?”

She glanced at me, pausing mid-swipe. “No, Miss Kate. He left last night and hasn’t returned since.”

My heart sank. “Not even this morning?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. He didn’t say when he’d be back either.”

I stood frozen on the spot. All the air rushed out of my lungs, and I had to fight to keep my voice steady.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I went up to my room, but I couldn’t sit still. I paced. I laid on the bed. I stared at the ceiling. Then I sat on the edge of the mattress, hands gripping the sheets like I could squeeze away the guilt.

This was my fault. I knew it.

He left because of me.

Because I said those things to him. Because I protected Jeremy—of all people.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I kept staring at the door like he’d appear at any moment, demanding an explanation. I would’ve given it. I would’ve begged him not to hate me.

But the hallway stayed quiet.

No footsteps.

No knock.

No Mr. William.

The next morning, I delayed getting ready for school. I kept looking out the window, hoping to hear the sound of his car pulling in. I skipped breakfast just to linger in the living room. But by 9:00 a.m., I had to face reality—he still wasn’t home.

When I got back that afternoon, it was more of the same. Empty rooms. Silence. Loneliness.

I hated how much it affected me.

I hated how much he affected me.

I slumped on the couch, curling up under a throw blanket I didn’t need, just for comfort. I didn’t even bother pretending anymore. I was miserable.

“I wish I had his number,” I mumbled to myself, biting my lip. I could’ve called him. Checked if he was safe.

Apologized.

But I didn’t. And I couldn’t call Dad to ask, either. That would open the door to questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

What do you need William’s number for?

Has something happened?

Are you getting involved with him?

No. Hell no!

At least, that’s what I kept trying to tell myself.

In a burst of frustration, I pulled out my phone and dialed the one person I could actually talk to.

“Hello?” came Gloria’s voice after two rings.

“Hey,” I sighed. “You busy?”

“Nah, just pretending to study. What’s up?”

I hesitated, teeth digging into my bottom lip. “It’s…Mr. William. He’s been gone since the night of the club incident. I haven’t seen him. I think he left because of what happened between me and Jeremy.”

Gloria was silent for a beat. “And… why does that bother you so much?”

I sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I get it—he’s your dad’s friend, and yeah, he’s hot, but Kate… you sound worried. Like, really worried. Like girlfriend worried.”

I swallowed hard.

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m—?”

“—In love with Mr. William?” she finished for me, her tone suspiciously playful but serious beneath.

My heart thudded. I opened my mouth to scream no, to deny it with every fiber of my being. But the word wouldn’t come out.

Instead, I stared at the floor, phone clutched to my ear, stunned and silent.

Because suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I could say no.