Angela clutched her stomach in pain, collapsing to the ground in a humiliated heap.
Morrison had Lilian wrapped protectively in his arms, shielding her like she was the only thing that mattered. His voice was cold as steel as he looked down at Angela with eyes full of disgust.
"Did you really think lies could stay hidden forever? Even paper can’t wrap fire. Don’t tell me you’re too stupid to understand that."
He hadn’t meant to follow Lilian out after she stormed off. But the moment he stepped outside and saw Angela cornering her—again—he snapped.
He had known about Angela’s petty schemes back when Lilian was still in school. During a background check, everything had surfaced—her bullying, her manipulation, the fakeness behind that sweet mask. He’d been tempted to act back then, but Lilian had chosen to forgive, and graduation was just around the corner. He let it go.
Even her biggest lie—pretending to have passed her grad school entrance exams—he’d uncovered. But again, he kept silent. Since Lilian didn’t want to make a scene, neither did he.
But now? Angela had the audacity to pin the fallout on Lilian?
"Whether she told anyone or not, so what? The only person who started this mess was you. If you hadn’t built your life on lies, you wouldn’t be choking on them now."
His voice was merciless. "And for the record, I know Lilian. She’s not the kind of woman who spreads dirt, even when it’s deserved."
Angela’s face twisted with rage and shame. Her pride was shattered, and the pain only fueled her hysteria.
"She was the only one who knew! If it wasn’t her, then who the hell was it?!"
Lilian had hesitated when Angela first got kicked down—some part of her still softened at the sight. But hearing Angela spit that accusation again?
Her eyes sharpened, voice laced with scorn as she stepped forward.
"I’ll say this one last time—I didn’t say anything. You think I go around talking about people like you? Please. Mentioning your name would only dirty my mouth."
Harsh. Cold. Brutally honest.
Lilian had never spoken before—but after everything, she was done being silent.
Even kindness had its limit.
To be honest, Lilian never cared enough to think about Angela’s so-called grad school acceptance. Why would she? Did Angela think she was that important in her life?
After they ran into each other at this very restaurant a while back, Lilian had forgotten about the encounter completely.
Morrison scoffed beside her—his mocking sneer aimed directly at Angela.
"You said no one else knew except her? What, are you not a person yourself? Or is your brain purely decorative?"
Angela choked on his words, her face twisting with fury. She scrambled up from the floor in utter embarrassment, dusting herself off with trembling hands.
A few patrons in the restaurant had already paused their meals to watch. Morrison had no intention of putting on a show. He glanced coolly at Angela, voice low and sharp like a dagger.
"Don’t want people to find out? Then don’t do it in the first place. You wanted the lie, now you bear the consequences. Don’t even think about shifting the blame onto anyone else."
He tightened his arms around Lilian and added coldly, "Especially not her."
With that, he turned and walked away with Lilian in his arms, leaving Angela standing frozen in place.
Her face was pale one moment, flushed the next. Then, lips trembling, she bit down hard and ran off.
Angela’s exam scores had been decent in the written portion—but she was eliminated during the interview. She refused to accept a reassignment, so she didn’t get in. But instead of facing it, she buried it.
She was too vain to admit failure. So she lied, covered it up, and found a job in Burg Eltz after graduation. She cut ties with all her old classmates, even those she once claimed were close friends.
She thought that by isolating herself, no one would discover the truth. But fate had other plans.
She hadn’t expected to run into Lilian at that restaurant. And given how she had constantly mocked and belittled Lilian back in school, she panicked. She thought Lilian would use the secret against her.
So she approached Lilian, tried to make peace, begged her not to tell anyone.
But then the truth leaked—and spread like wildfire in their old class chat groups.
Angela was humiliated. Some classmates mocked her openly. Worst of all, the guy she had quietly liked—the one she thought might like her back—blocked her completely after hearing the truth.
It had to be Lilian, she thought. Who else would’ve done it?
But Angela’s biggest mistake was thinking everyone was like her—spiteful, petty, cruel.
She never once considered Morrison’s words: "Don’t want others to know? Then don’t do it in the first place."
Angela worked in a public company, lived in a public space. How could she guarantee that only Lilian knew? What if someone else recognized her on the street, someone who remembered she was "supposed to be" studying?
That tiny suspicion could easily snowball into gossip.
It didn’t have to be malice—it could have just been curiosity.
Not everyone thinks like you do. That’s why there are good people, and there are bad.
Morrison led Lilian to a quiet corner outside. The further they got from the crowd, the more her emotions settled.
To be honest, when Angela shoved her earlier, Lilian had nearly exploded from rage. She was trembling all over—she had never been treated like that in her life. Not even her parents had laid a hand on her. But Angela?
Angela had nearly knocked her over.
And yet, somehow, as Morrison held her close, shielding her like a fortress, her anger faded.
The memory of his furious kick—right at Angela—was deeply satisfying. She didn’t feel humiliated anymore. She felt vindicated.
Yesterday, when her mother and Emma had gotten hurt, Morrison had rushed to her side without hesitation. And now again, when Angela tried to humiliate her, he had stepped forward to defend her—without even needing her to ask.
Her heart swelled with warmth. Gratefulness. Relief. A strange happiness she hadn’t expected.
She took a step back, putting a little space between them, and looked up at him.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"And... for yesterday, too. When my family was in trouble... thank you for being the first one there."
As she spoke, a thought crept into her mind—one she didn’t dare admit out loud.
Maybe women really do need someone to rely on sometimes.
Yes, being independent was admirable. A life lived on one’s own terms could be bold, carefree, strong.
But that only worked when everything was smooth. The moment something truly frightening happened, when reality turned against her—was it really so wrong to want someone to lean on?
Like yesterday, when her mother and Emma had that accident, and Dave couldn’t rush back in time. If Morrison hadn’t been there... she honestly didn’t know if she could’ve handled it alone.
Morrison was still watching her, waiting for her to say more.
But Lilian had gone quiet—lost in her thoughts, staring blankly ahead.
He frowned slightly. "What’s on your mind?"
With a flick of his fingers, Morrison snapped them lightly against her smooth forehead.
Lilian winced, snapping out of her daze, and rubbed her forehead while glaring at him in protest.
Morrison wasn’t having it. His brows furrowed deeply as he looked down at her.
"You got pushed around like that, and you don’t even know how to fight back?"
Just remembering Angela’s insults back in school—and how she shoved Lilian earlier—made Morrison’s blood boil. If it were up to him, he would’ve gladly given Angela another kick right there.
Meanwhile, Lilian had the nerve to stand there and take it like it was nothing.
"I was going to!" she shot back immediately. "But then you showed up."
Truth was, if Morrison hadn’t arrived just in time, she had every intention of slapping Angela right across the face. She had held back long enough, but Angela crossing the line and getting physical?
That was it. Game over.
Even a rabbit bites when it’s cornered.
"Oh?" Morrison raised an eyebrow mockingly. "So you do know how to slap someone. And here I thought you were just the silent, suffer-in-peace type."
Lilian clenched her fists. "Don’t underestimate me."
He chuckled and gently took her little fist in his palm, wrapping it with his own warm hand.
"People like her only bully the weak. You should’ve smacked her the moment she opened her mouth."
The moment his fingers touched hers, a strange electricity shot through her entire body. Her breath caught—like a current had just jolted straight through her veins.
Warm. Strong. Too close.
She stared at their joined hands, heart racing uncontrollably.