Secretary’s your New mom? Great—Here's Your New Family Package Deal - Chapter 101: Chapter 101
You are reading Secretary’s your New mom? Great—Here's Your New Family Package Deal, Chapter 101: Chapter 101. Read more chapters of Secretary’s your New mom? Great—Here's Your New Family Package Deal.
Being with Amaury was nothing like being with Dante.
He wasn't the type to say romantic things, but his actions showed he cared about everything.
When I had work problems, his first instinct wasn't to comfort me—it was to fix them. Issues I mentioned would mysteriously disappear by the next day.
He never said he missed me, but even when I took the last red-eye flight home, he'd be waiting at the airport.
I experienced a kind of solid, grounded happiness I'd never felt before.
But the happier I got, the more terrified I became.
Like standing on a cliff—solid rock under my feet, but one look back revealed a thousand-foot drop.
I started panicking that Amaury would discover who I really was, that every version of myself I showed him was carefully constructed.
I was scared he wouldn't like the real me.
After several snowstorms, the temperature plummeted. Combined with stress and overwork, I finally got sick.
I called in and holed up at home alone.
Amaury and I weren't living together yet. I was afraid that too much intimacy would expose the parts of me he might not want to see.
Burning up with fever, I thought I heard the doorbell.
I figured I was hallucinating until it rang several more times. I forced my eyes open.
When I stumbled to the door, Amaury was standing there.
He had a thermal lunch box in his left hand, a pharmacy bag in his right. It must have been snowing—his black wool coat was dusted with unmelted flakes, and his long eyelashes were damp and clumped together.
"Heard you were sick." He walked to the dining table and set down the containers.
"Can't take medicine on an empty stomach. You should eat something first. I didn't know what you liked, so I got a few different soups."
Before I could react, he pressed his hand to my forehead, then touched his forehead to mine and frowned slightly. He sat on the couch and started pulling out medications.
"What are your symptoms? Is this a cold or the flu?"
"I think I just got chilled. Probably a cold."
Amaury pulled out a box of medicine and carefully read the instructions.
I stared at him in a daze.
I remembered the first time I saw him, bent over a financial report during that meeting, frowning in concentration.
I'd been sitting as far away as possible. So many people between us.
He'd seemed so unreachable, so distant.
So... cold.
But now this man who only looked at eight-figure deals was frowning over a tiny medicine label.
Right here in front of me. Real and present.
The warm living room light fell across Amaury's shoulders. His coat was draped over the couch, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The soft lighting smoothed his sharp features, making him look almost tender.
My heart slammed against my ribs, the echo bouncing around my skull.
Shit. I was in trouble.
I walked over and curled up next to him.
He pulled me closer and tucked a throw blanket around me.
"How are you feeling? Any worse?"
I buried my face against his chest, voice muffled:
"What am I gonna do, Amaury? I think I'm falling for you. Like, really falling."
He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you didn't like me before?"
"No, it's just—"
I couldn't explain the feeling. I'd always been terrified of emotions, scared of that loss of control.
Afraid I'd turn into my mother.
But right now, the fear didn't feel so bad.
After taking the medicine, I slept deeply and dreamlessly. When I woke up, I was covered in sweat but my head was finally clear. The congestion was gone.
I rolled out of bed, excited to find Amaury and tell him I felt better.
"Amaury—"
I stopped dead in the doorway of my home office.
Amaury looked up at me, his expression completely blank.
In his hands was my notebook—the one with all my research about him.
He was halfway through it.
He wasn't the type to say romantic things, but his actions showed he cared about everything.
When I had work problems, his first instinct wasn't to comfort me—it was to fix them. Issues I mentioned would mysteriously disappear by the next day.
He never said he missed me, but even when I took the last red-eye flight home, he'd be waiting at the airport.
I experienced a kind of solid, grounded happiness I'd never felt before.
But the happier I got, the more terrified I became.
Like standing on a cliff—solid rock under my feet, but one look back revealed a thousand-foot drop.
I started panicking that Amaury would discover who I really was, that every version of myself I showed him was carefully constructed.
I was scared he wouldn't like the real me.
After several snowstorms, the temperature plummeted. Combined with stress and overwork, I finally got sick.
I called in and holed up at home alone.
Amaury and I weren't living together yet. I was afraid that too much intimacy would expose the parts of me he might not want to see.
Burning up with fever, I thought I heard the doorbell.
I figured I was hallucinating until it rang several more times. I forced my eyes open.
When I stumbled to the door, Amaury was standing there.
He had a thermal lunch box in his left hand, a pharmacy bag in his right. It must have been snowing—his black wool coat was dusted with unmelted flakes, and his long eyelashes were damp and clumped together.
"Heard you were sick." He walked to the dining table and set down the containers.
"Can't take medicine on an empty stomach. You should eat something first. I didn't know what you liked, so I got a few different soups."
Before I could react, he pressed his hand to my forehead, then touched his forehead to mine and frowned slightly. He sat on the couch and started pulling out medications.
"What are your symptoms? Is this a cold or the flu?"
"I think I just got chilled. Probably a cold."
Amaury pulled out a box of medicine and carefully read the instructions.
I stared at him in a daze.
I remembered the first time I saw him, bent over a financial report during that meeting, frowning in concentration.
I'd been sitting as far away as possible. So many people between us.
He'd seemed so unreachable, so distant.
So... cold.
But now this man who only looked at eight-figure deals was frowning over a tiny medicine label.
Right here in front of me. Real and present.
The warm living room light fell across Amaury's shoulders. His coat was draped over the couch, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The soft lighting smoothed his sharp features, making him look almost tender.
My heart slammed against my ribs, the echo bouncing around my skull.
Shit. I was in trouble.
I walked over and curled up next to him.
He pulled me closer and tucked a throw blanket around me.
"How are you feeling? Any worse?"
I buried my face against his chest, voice muffled:
"What am I gonna do, Amaury? I think I'm falling for you. Like, really falling."
He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you didn't like me before?"
"No, it's just—"
I couldn't explain the feeling. I'd always been terrified of emotions, scared of that loss of control.
Afraid I'd turn into my mother.
But right now, the fear didn't feel so bad.
After taking the medicine, I slept deeply and dreamlessly. When I woke up, I was covered in sweat but my head was finally clear. The congestion was gone.
I rolled out of bed, excited to find Amaury and tell him I felt better.
"Amaury—"
I stopped dead in the doorway of my home office.
Amaury looked up at me, his expression completely blank.
In his hands was my notebook—the one with all my research about him.
He was halfway through it.
End of Secretary’s your New mom? Great—Here's Your New Family Package Deal Chapter 101. Continue reading Chapter 102 or return to Secretary’s your New mom? Great—Here's Your New Family Package Deal book page.