Chapter 5

Esme spun around and found Isaiah standing behind her, his expression drastically changed. She quickly ended the call, but Isaiah rushed forward, grabbing her hand. He asked, "Essie, who's immigrating?" Esme kept her face straight. "It's just a classmate. She's planning to move abroad and wanted to meet up before leaving." Isaiah's panic subsided at her composure, never suspecting she might lie. Even so, he still pulled her into a tight hug and muttered, "You scared me. For a second, I thought it was you." Esme's lips twitched into a faint smile. "It's just immigration. Why are you so dramatic about it?" Isaiah's heart was still pounding as he explained, "Essie, you know my family's background—generations in the military. Moving abroad isn't an option for me." He paused, his grip on her tightening as if to anchor himself. "If I ever mess up, you can yell at me, hit me, or even kill me, but please don't leave the country. I wouldn't be able to find you, and that would kill me more than anything." Esme stayed silent in his embrace, her faint smile hiding her true thoughts. She murmured, "I understand." Perhaps sensing something was amiss, Isaiah stuck by Esme's side for the next few days, refusing to let her out of his sight. Even when his friends invited him to a new lounge for a gathering, he insisted on bringing her along. Isaiah's constant vigilance worked against Esme's favor, as she had no opportunity to slip away to the immigration office. Resigned, she accompanied him to the lounge. As soon as they entered the private room, Isaiah's friends greeted them with warm enthusiasm. Someone said, "Esme, relax and enjoy yourself. We know you like quieter vibes, so we swapped the usual music for piano tracks and cleared the place out just for you." "Yeah, Isaiah made sure everything here suits your tastes, including your favorite desserts." "Come, Esme, sit here! The fruit's all washed and sliced." Isaiah raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. "When did you guys get so good at buttering her up?" One of them laughed and shrugged. "Everyone knows Esme's the love of your life. If we don't treat her right, how could we expect you to keep hanging out with us?" "Exactly! The moment you got married, you ditched us for her. We've accepted it. Now, we just want to join you in pampering Esme!" Laughter filled the room, lightening the atmosphere. But just as the mood peaked, a petite figure suddenly walked in—it was Audrey. The manager rushed forward to intercept her. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're hosting VIPs tonight and aren't accepting other guests." Audrey brushed past him without a second thought, smiling brightly as she addressed the room. "Esme, Isaiah! So it was you who booked the place. What a coincidence. You don't mind if I join you, right?" Before anyone could respond, Audrey strolled over and sat down beside Esme. Under the dim lighting, she casually slid Isaiah's hand under her skirt. Esme's body stiffened, and her gaze instinctively darted to Isaiah. His expression shifted the moment Audrey appeared, as though he wanted to kick her out. Yet, when she guided his hand, he shut his eyes briefly, his fingers subtly moving. In that instant, Esme felt a weight on her chest. She fought to maintain her composure, pretending not to notice a thing. Halfway through the gathering, Esme excused herself to the restroom. She splashed cold water on her face repeatedly, trying to steady herself. However, her thoughts spiraled until a mocking voice broke through the silence. "Esme, not to be rude, but you're so young. Why do you dress so… dull?" Esme raised her head and saw Audrey's reflection in the mirror, her gaze laced with disdain. "Look at me," Audrey said, unbuttoning her coat to reveal a red, lacey lingerie set. "People say men are visual creatures, slaves to their desires. How about a little wager? If I tell Isaiah I'm wearing this, do you think he'll stick with you or sneak off to take me right here?" Esme's hands trembled slightly, but she said nothing. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she dried her hands and walked back to the private room. ... Moments later, Audrey returned as well. As she passed Isaiah, she subtly tapped on his phone. Curious, he opened it and read a brief text, his Adam's apple bobbing as his gaze darkened. Without a word, he slid his phone into his pocket and stood up abruptly. He said, "Essie, I need to step out and make a quick call. Stay here—I'll be right back." Before she could respond, he was already gone. A few minutes later, Audrey also made an excuse to leave. Esme watched them disappear, her chest tightening with each passing second. She suppressed her breathing, but the pain in her heart burned hotter with every beat. Her thoughts twisted into something darker. If she were drowning in misery, then she would drag Isaiah down with her, making him suffer just as much. The evening turned into night, but Isaiah never returned. His absence created an awkward tension among his friends, who exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, one of them stood up, offering to drive Esme home. "He's probably tied up with something urgent," the man said, though his words felt hollow. Esme found it laughable, wondering what could possibly hold his attention more than Audrey. Even so, she said nothing, letting them escort her to the car. However, just as she stepped inside, she realized she had left her purse behind. When she went back to retrieve it, a voice inside the room stopped her in her tracks. "Finally, she's gone! If we had to keep this act up any longer, I'd definitely slip. How the hell does Isaiah manage to keep up the façade in front of Esme?"