The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 199

Walking out of the campus gates, Claire kept a tight hold on Miles's arm, tilting her head up to look at him.

"How do you know so much about silk embroidery? Even I haven't read that specific book of his."

His voice was neutral. "I just flipped through it at the library once."

Claire seized the chance to butter him up. "You just 'flipped through it' and remembered all those details? You must have been one of those geniuses with a photographic memory in college!"

Miles's steps faltered slightly. He gave her a long, unreadable look. Had she genuinely forgotten, or was she just playing dumb?

"What's wrong?" She gently shook his arm.

"Nothing."

He said it was nothing, but the dark cloud suddenly hanging over him was impossible to miss.

Claire slipped her fingers into his. When he didn't pull away, she started brainstorming ways to coax him out of this mood.

"I'm starving. The Queenshaven Night Market right next to campus is super famous. Want to go check it out?"

He didn't say a word, but he adjusted his stride to follow her lead.

The night market was incredibly lively.

Claire made a beeline for a fried chicken stand. Miles frowned slightly but stood right beside her anyway.

Claire stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. Okay, his sophisticated aesthetic was definitely completely out of place in front of a greasy food cart.

"Two orders of spicy fried chicken, please!"

"Coming right up!"

Once it was ready, Claire handed him a takeout box. He hesitated for a split second before taking it.

The cardboard tray was practically swimming in blazing red chili oil, every piece smothered in thick, fiery sauce.

Claire took a bite, savoring the juicy, perfectly fried crunch.

She mumbled with her mouth full, "Why aren't you eating?"

Just staring at the thick layer of chili flakes made Miles's stomach churn with phantom heartburn.

So the only reason she had dragged him out here was because running into Jefferson had triggered her college nostalgia.

Miles looked away, dropping the subject.

There was no point in asking. To her, he had simply been a nameless background character during those ten years of her life.

He couldn't police her thoughts anyway. If she wanted to reminisce about Jefferson, he was utterly powerless to stop her.

The two of them continued down the street, surrounded by the chaotic yells of the vendors.

She dragged him from stall to stall, buying an endless pile of snacks and trinkets. He paid for everything in silence, carrying all her shopping bags like a pack mule.

Leaving the market, they walked back to their newly booked hotel. He instinctively kept her shielded on the inner side of the sidewalk. Claire chattered away, and he offered a few monosyllabic replies, leaving her completely unaware of his foul mood.

By the time they reached their room, it was almost ten o'clock. Claire stood obediently as Miles swiped the keycard.

"It's dark. Let me hit the lights."

Before the words even left her mouth, his hands clamped onto her waist, pinning her flush against the door.