The Day I Quit Him (Autumn and Mars) novel Chapter 97

**Chasing Light, Finding Peace** – by Rohan Verma

Autumn’s cheeks flared with a deep crimson hue, a vivid reflection of the turmoil bubbling within her.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, an unsettling yet intriguing sensation had settled in her gut. Owen’s demeanor toward her had shifted, subtly yet undeniably.

But it was baffling; their paths had never intertwined before this peculiar juncture in their lives.

With the chaos that had enveloped her existence, Autumn found it hard to fathom that Owen could see her as anything beyond the identity she had constructed for herself.

Yet, the very words he had just spoken sent a thrilling jolt through her heart, igniting a flicker of hope she had long buried.

An idea, once relegated to the realm of fantasy, began to resurface in her thoughts, teasing her with its impossibility.

“You…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind racing with questions unvoiced.

Before she could articulate the swirling doubts in her mind, Owen straightened up, his gaze steady and earnest.

“Don’t worry. Even though our marriage is primarily a business arrangement, the Bennett Group took on the responsibility of caring for you the moment you agreed to become Autumn.”

His words struck her like a bucket of ice water, dousing the warmth that had begun to blossom within her.

A wave of disappointment washed over her, silent and profound.

Yet, strangely, Autumn didn’t feel anger or sadness. Instead, a sense of relief enveloped her, wrapping her in its comforting embrace.

This was the way it was meant to be.

If the reason behind Owen’s kindness had been what she had dared to imagine, she would have thought the universe had turned upside down.

“If you ever need anything in the future, don’t hesitate to reach out,” he added, his tone sincere.

Autumn took a moment to collect herself, the weight of his words settling in.

With nothing tangible to offer in return, she decided to leave the decision in Owen’s hands.

If it was something within her capabilities, she would gladly assist.

In her mind, it would serve as a way to repay his kindness, a gesture that would lighten the burden of his generosity from her shoulders, allowing her to breathe a little easier.

More importantly, given Owen’s stature and influence, she felt reassured that he wouldn’t use it against her.

She wouldn’t have to fear guilt weighing heavily on her conscience. It was, in every sense, a win-win situation for her.

“Actually, there is one thing I need your help with,” he said, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Autumn, caught off guard, realized she hadn’t merely extended a polite offer; she was genuinely surprised that Owen was seeking her assistance.

“What is it?” she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

For Owen to ask for her help, it must have been something significant, right?

“There’s a party following the auction,” he explained, his expression serious.

“I usually steer clear of these kinds of gatherings, but an older acquaintance will be attending this year, which means I can’t avoid it. It requires a plus-one, and I would like you to accompany me that day.”

Autumn had anticipated something monumental, not merely the role of his dinner companion.

“Okay,” she replied without hesitation, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice. “Do I need to prepare anything?”

“No, just be there,” he responded, his tone casual.

“Alright,” she confirmed, a smile tugging at her lips.

After laying out his request, Owen rose and walked away, leaving Autumn to watch him go. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind him that she allowed herself to relax, sinking back into the comfort of the sofa.

The memory of Owen effortlessly catching the food from her mouth danced in her mind, causing her to cover her eyes with her hands, a myriad of emotions swirling within her.

She yearned to understand what Owen truly thought or felt about her, but her body felt heavy with exhaustion, urging her to wash up and seek rest.

As for Mars Wright, the man who had once made her stomach churn with anxiety, he faded into the background of her thoughts, forgotten.

Unbeknownst to Autumn, her instincts were gradually erasing him and his name from her consciousness.

She no longer spent every waking moment consumed by thoughts of him.

She didn’t fret over whether he was out drinking or if he was feeling unwell.

And certainly, she didn’t ponder if he could manage to survive on his own without her.

Forgetting was, after all, the highest form of self-preservation.

Once Autumn recognized that she was no longer encumbered by the weight of that man and all his accompanying drama, a wave of relief washed over her, lifting her spirits immensely.

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