Chapter 21
Evelyn closed the door and leaned the soaked umbrella against the wall.
Ryan was sitting on the couch, pressing a tissue to the corner of his mouth. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin was still bruised and swollen.
“I’ll grab the first–aid kit,” she said, turning to rummage through a cabinet.
Ryan watched her move around, her back to him, and suddenly spoke. “Evelyn.”
“Hmm?” She didn’t turn, still searching through the shelves.
“I like you.”
Her hand froze mid–reach,, just for a beat. Then she calmly retrieved the iodine and cotton swabs. She walked back to the sofa. “Hold still. I need to disinfect that cut.”
Her touch was gentle. The cotton swab soaked in iodine swept across his cut. Ryan flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.
“This isn’t a whim,” he said, eyes steady on her face. “It’s been a long time–since high school, actually.”
Evelyn set the swab aside and replied calmly, “I’m not ready to talk about this.”
“I know.” Ryan gave her a soft smile. “But I meant what I said. I’ll wait.”
Evelyn closed the first–aid kit. “Ryan, I just ended a seven–year relationship. Right now, all I want is to focus on this competition, win that award, and rebuild my career from scratch.”
“I understand.” Ryan nodded without hesitation.
She said nothing else and went to the kitchen to get some water.
While she was gone, her phone lit up on the coffee table. Ryan glanced over–just a video message from an unknown number. He didn’t think much of it, only nudged the phone closer to her side.
When Evelyn came back, she casually picked it up and tapped on the notification absentmindedly.
The video opened.
Vanessa was tied to an electric chair, her face pale, her body trembling violently. From off–screen came Brandon’s cold voice. “Is this enough?”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened involuntarily, her breath catching in her chest.
She remembered.
She remembered her time in that so–called “treatment room.” The straps. The electric shocks. The
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King or Clown Moys aside! I’ll show you my crown!
isolation. The way her screams dissolved into silence.
And now… Brandon had used the same method to retaliate against Vanessa–then sent her a video of it, asking if she was satisfied?
A harsh, bitter laugh escaped her lips.
She typed back: “What do you want? A gold star for electrocuting the monster you helped create? Bravo. Truly noble.”
Then she blocked the number.
Ryan, sensing her change in demeanor, asked gently, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Evelyn tossed the phone aside. “Let’s get back to the designs.”
He didn’t press further. Instead, he pulled out a folder of sketches from his bag. “I’ve already reached out to
a supplier about the fabric. We can check the samples tomorrow.”
In the days that followed, Brandon didn’t appear again.
Evelyn and Ryan spent almost every waking moment at the studio–redrafting, stitching, refining.
They settled into a rhythm–days blurred into fabric samples, pencil sketches, and late–night stitches.
Ryan always seemed to be one step ahead, prepping tools before she even asked.
“You’ve studied design before?” Evelyn asked one afternoon, genuinely surprised by his understanding.
Ryan shook his head. “I’ve just seen a lot of your work.”
“My work?” she echoed.
“Yeah.” His lips lifted into a shy smile. “Back in high school, you used to sketch wedding dresses during art class. Even then, I thought–this girl is going to become someone brilliant.”
Evelyn blinked, startled. She couldn’t even remember what she’d drawn in high school.
“You probably don’t remember.” Ryan kept sorting fabric as he spoke. “I was overweight back then, always
getting bullied. You were the only one who stood up for me–even if it was just because of my sister… That
mattered.”
A vague memory stirred in the back of her mind. Maybe… yes. That did sound familiar,
“That’s why you have to believe me,” Ryan looked up at her, his expression sincere. “You’re amazing, Evelyn. Don’t waste another second resenting people who never deserved you in the first place.”
Evelyn paused, something soft flickering in her chest.
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“King or Clown Move aside! I’ll show you my crown!
She looked down and resumed stitching a sample piece. Her voice came out quiet, barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
That night, after her shower, she stepped out into the apartment in her robe and found Ryan in the kitchen, boiling noodles.
“You hungry?” he asked without looking back. “It’s almost done.”
Evelyn leaned against the doorframe, watching him sprinkle scallions with practiced ease.
And just like that, something deep inside her–something that had been locked up tight–quietly began to
loosen.
