What She Overheard in Her Own Marriage novel Chapter 442

"Does it?" Finnian furrowed his brows.

"Uh..." Dexter grew incredibly nervous under that intense stare, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He hesitated for a second before asking, "Mr. Sanders, have you ever been in love?"

Finnian was rendered speechless. He just stared at his assistant.

Dexter offered an uneasy smile. "In all the years I've worked for you, you've poured most of your time and energy into building your empire. You probably still don't understand what it means to truly place someone in the center of your heart, to cherish them, to be terrified of them getting hurt, to fear their jealousy or their sadness. I'm sorry, I'm not questioning your ability to love. I just... want to remind you that the level of concern you show Ms. Lawrence far exceeds what you show Dr. Chavez. Of course, I can see that you love Brynlee deeply. You are incredibly responsible and a wonderful father."

Finnian sat frozen in his leather executive chair, completely motionless, staring unblinkingly at Dexter.

A cold sweat soaked through Dexter's shirt. As a subordinate, he had said way too much today.

But the boss had asked, so he answered. He wasn't trying to lecture him on how to be a human being.

"Mr. Sanders, I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me," Dexter said, hastily lowering his head in a panic.

"No," Finnian finally spoke. "You hit the core of the issue. Maybe... I still don't understand what love is."

Dexter managed a weak smile. "Mr. Sanders, I thought you knew. Everything you do for Ms. Lawrence... is essentially what love looks like."

The moment the words left his mouth, Dexter was met with a lethal glare. He shuddered, standing ramrod straight and pressing his lips into a tight line.

"Get out," Finnian said, his voice laced with heavy exhaustion.

"Yes, sir!" Dexter spun around and practically sprinted out of the office, terrified that if he lingered a second longer, Finnian would fire him on the spot.

Finnian's mind was completely blank. He stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Remembering the genuine, radiant smile Kaia gave Simon in those photos, the fire in his chest burned hotter. It left him feeling parched and restless.

He pulled out his phone and found Kaia's contact, his finger hovering over the screen, but he couldn't bring himself to press call.

If he called her right now, what possible excuse could he use?

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