The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 139

Watching Miles's Phaeton seamlessly merge into the morning traffic, Claire lowered her head and let out a soft sigh before walking to the subway station.

Forget it. He was in a bad mood, she wouldn't hold it against him.

On her way, she took the initiative to text him again: [Dr. Zimmerman, you absolutely have to let me buy you dinner when you aren't so busy.]

She added a cute pleading cat sticker at the end.

But the reply never came.

On the second day of Luna Atelier's grand opening, a steady stream of customers flooded the store. Betty Wade and the new staff were rushed off their feet.

Faced with towering stacks of orders, Claire forced herself to focus, sketching designs, verifying fabric details, and inspecting finishing techniques.

Yet the moment she stopped, her fingers instinctively reached for her phone.

The pinned chat remained agonizingly silent.

For the entire day, Miles didn't reply.

Staring at the screen, her thumb scrolled mindlessly through their past conversations, a chaotic knot of emotions tightening in her chest.

She had only brought up his birthday because she didn't know the truth. Why was he so furiously angry?

A bitter ache bloomed in her heart. She needed to see him face-to-face to clear the air.

As evening fell, after finishing her final sketch, Claire drove straight to the hospital.

She took a detour to a famous dessert shop on the west side of the city, standing in line for half an hour to buy a low-sugar mousse cake.

Maybe a little dopamine from the sugar would help lift his mood?

After visiting her mother, Claire went straight to the third-floor office.

The door was slightly ajar. She peeked inside and saw Jared Johnston leading a group of interns, with Miles's cold, crisp voice faintly echoing as he broke down a case file.

She didn't interrupt. She stood by the door, staring at the tips of her shoes, quietly waiting.

After a long while, the interns slowly filed out.

Just as she was about to step inside, Jared, the last one out, blocked her path.

"Claire, hey," Jared stammered, looking extremely uncomfortable as he relayed the message. "Miles says... he has to work and asked that you don't go in and bother him."

Claire froze, her fingers tightening around the string of the cake box. "Okay. I understand."

"Listen..." Jared scratched his head. "Miles is just in a foul mood because of some family stuff. He's not targeting you, so don't take it to heart."

It had started raining. She parked her car and found a small inn to crash for the night, planning to head up the mountain at dawn.

She pulled out her phone to text Miles, but there was absolutely zero signal.

Watching the loading circle spin endlessly on the screen, Claire paced the lobby of the inn, desperately hunting for a bar of service.

The innkeeper sat behind the front desk, casually cracking sunflower seeds. "Texting your boyfriend, miss?"

"Don't waste your energy. This place is in the middle of nowhere; the moment it rains, the towers drop. If you're worried he's getting anxious, I have a landline you can use."

Claire checked the time. Miles was probably already asleep. It was best not to call and wake him up.

She shook her head. "No, thank you."

-

Inside the Grandview Heights parking garage.

Miles pulled in after his shift. Her parking spot was empty, and not a single light shined from the windows of 502.

Claire still wasn't home?