When Two Winters Met (Henrietta and Yosef) novel Chapter 165

“Oh?” Yosef stubbed out the cigarette he’d barely smoked, looking at Calvert with a cool expression. “Is that what you think?”

Calvert froze. Men in positions of great power despise being questioned. And Mr. Nash had always been at the apex, a figure revered globally, someone even world leaders treated with respect. Moreover, he was a perfectionist who, since getting married, had transformed into the perfect husband, attending to every detail flawlessly.

And yet… Henrietta still doubted him. Putting himself in Mr. Nash’s shoes, Calvert felt he would be furious too. Any normal person would be angry if they were suspected of something so fundamental. A fake marriage certificate? The idea was absurd. Although, fake documents did exist, but in this context… it was just ludicrous.

Within thirty seconds, Calvert had run through these thoughts and lowered his gaze. “Yes.”

But Yosef said nothing more. He simply patted Calvert on the shoulder and said, “Let’s resume the meeting.”

“Yes, sir,” Calvert replied, quickly following him.

Was Mr. Nash so angry he didn’t even want to talk about it? This time, Henrietta had gone too far. Calvert decided he wouldn’t defend her. She had been so well-behaved before—quiet, undemanding, a source of peace and comfort. But this sudden act was difficult to comprehend.

...

That evening, Henrietta finished her dinner, washed up, and got into bed, habitually waiting for Yosef’s video call. But it never came.

She checked the time on her phone. He usually called by now. Factoring in the time difference, her late evening was around his dinner time. He was always mindful of her sleep schedule, which was why he called at this specific hour every day.

He must have been held up by urgent work. Henrietta wasn’t bothered; she didn’t think daily calls were a necessity anyway. But she didn’t go to sleep either, thinking he might call later. She started watching a show on her phone.

An hour passed, and she was starting to feel sleepy, but still no call. Deciding to stay up a bit longer, she picked up a finance book from her shelf. She ended up dozing off, only to wake with a start a short while later.

Dazed, she checked her phone again. It was quite late, and there had been no call or message from Yosef. She frowned slightly.

Was he really so busy he couldn’t find a moment to call? But even on his busiest days, he had never missed a call, even if it was just for a minute or two. He would even pause meetings, saying it was “no trouble” to spare a few minutes.

The word “busy” was always a delicate one. No matter how busy someone was, they could always find thirty seconds. At the very least, they could send a quick text. A voice message takes only a few seconds. What could possibly be that pressing?

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