A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Matilda’s complexion was ghastly, yet she managed a smile. “So what exactly do you hope to pry from me? Would it ease your mind if I said, “Yes, I was once Yvan’s lover‘?” She had never used such a sharp tone with Orson before. In their recent interactions, Matilda had always looked at him with eyes filled with dependency. Orson understood that she was seeing someone else in him, and her reliance was due to the shadow of her brother that she saw in him. Even so, her demeanor had always been gentle, never as biting as it was now.

It took Orson a while to respond, “Get back to work.”

Matilda covered her face and chuckled, “I feel like I’ve let everyone down. It’s because, of me that Yvan decided to turn down the sponsorship.”

There it was, an outright admission.

Orson’s brow furrowed slightly as he said, “So you were involved with Yvan.”

Matilda muttered emptily, “Yeah, I was involved with him. And between him and me, it’s always been a matter of life and death.” Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

The situation seemed intense.

Orson watched Matilda’s face for a long time before continuing, “But that’s no reason to skip work. Our studio won’t collapse without Yvan. We can find another investor. You don’t need to blame yourself.”

Matilda smiled and said, “Do you really think that if Yvan knew I was at this studio, he’d let me off easy?”

For the remaining days, he might just repeat the embargo he slapped on her previous studio, drowning Orson and the others‘ game studio in countless sanctions, making their already difficult path even tougher!

Orson understood Matilda’s point. His eyes grew somber as he looked at her pained expression, softening his voice, “What exactly happened between you two?”

“What happened between us?”

That was the first time Orson really took a hard look at Matilda, seeing in her eyes a vast, stormy, ice– cold despair. For the first time, he realized that a human being could wear such a valiant expression.

Matilda laughed self–deprecatingly, “There’s no point dredging up the past. Now that he knows I’m here, he’ll definitely find ways to attack us. So, it’s only by my leaving that everyone else can move forward.”

“You don’t need to think of us as that fragile,” Orson said calmly after hearing Matilda’s words. “We’re not as weak as you think. So, come back. It’s clear they all like you.”

Yoshi, Baxter, Hala, tomboy Luna, and the stoic straight–shooter Orson in front of her–it was indeed a remarkably warm studio, and that’s why Matilda didn’t want to be their downfall.

“You missed a morning of work, and they’re worried sick,” Orson said, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. “Yoshi was about to call the cops, afraid you’d do something rash. So he sent me to find you.”

“Will they be mad at me?”

“Of course not,” Orson glanced at her briefly. “The folks in our studio aren’t so easily defeated.”

Matilda’s eyes reddened slightly. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t moved.

“Drop the drama. If you feel like you owe everyone, then design something new. We’re launching next month, with interviews and a promotional blitz with you next week. Can you handle that?” Orson tapped his fingers on the table–a habit he shared with her brother Gideon, who also liked to drum his fingers rhythmically when idle.

She had just thought how different he was from her brother when she noticed this familiar detail. It seemed like a cruel joke by fate; the man before her and the brother who had left her were completely different individuals. Despite reminding herself over and over, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps this was destiny’s way of letting her meet him again.

She lost Gideon, and then she met Orson. Strangers to each other, with no shared

blood.

Matilda sniffed, pushing all her thoughts back down, and offered Orson a smile. “I’d be honored!”