Chapter 126

After a long pause, he finally spoke, "The nerve you mentioned, what nerve are you talking about?" Winnie looked up at him, feeling a bit confused. "I'm not sure what you mean." Van's eyes deepened even further. "Tell me." Her face was bathed in moonlight, with Van's shadow weaving into it, creating a blurred image. She lowered her voice. "Mr. Marlowe, I shouldn't let your past affect me." She lifted her gaze slightly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice dropped a little. "I shouldn't compare myself to your former women." A barely noticeable shift passed through Van's gaze. He was silent for a moment before continuing, "You're so understanding; you'd be well-suited to be a mistress." His tone was cold, almost mocking, but his eyes lingered on the red mole near her ear, his words halting as though he wanted to say more. Winnie was puzzled, watching him nervously. "Mr. Marlowe, I don't understand what you mean." Van chuckled lightly, a complex emotion flashing through his eyes. "Let's say the contract ends, I get married, but I can't let you go. Would you stay with me then? I'd be more generous than I am now." Winnie froze, her expression blank for a moment. Then, she spoke calmly: "I can't do that." Her tone was direct and unwavering. Van stared at her, as if trying to find some contradiction or pretense in her eyes. "Why can't you?" His voice softened, but there was still an underlying pressure, pushing for an answer. "Marriage doesn't matter to me anymore," Winnie whispered. "What you mentioned may mean something to you, but I just want to give my time to the people I truly care about." Van's expression shifted slightly as he stared into her eyes, as if trying to decipher the deeper meaning behind her words. "Are you rejecting me by saying that?" Winnie chuckled softly and shook her head. "No, I just believe that, regardless of the contract, I should ultimately live my life for myself." Van didn't press further, but the silent probing still hung in the air between them. He didn't ask any more questions, but suddenly released her, stepping back a few paces, as if trying to break the enigmatic silence. "Let's go back," he said, his voice low. "It's not good to stay here too long. People will see." Winnie nodded, lowering her gaze, her eyes drifting off. The conversation left her feeling somewhat powerless, but she knew that tonight, she had nothing left to lose. She gently brushed past Van, preparing to leave, when suddenly she heard his deep voice behind her: "What if I don't allow it?" Winnie froze, turning around with a confused look. "What?" "What if I don't allow you to like someone else after the contract ends?" Van's gaze was sharp, yet there was an unspoken expectation hidden within. Winnie gave a slight smile, a hint of helplessness mixed with an almost imperceptible coldness on her face. "Mr. Marlowe, by then, you'll have a wife. How could you still control what I do?" She walked out the door, her skirt billowing in the wind, and her voice carried a faint trace of sadness. "As long as she has you in her heart, isn't that enough?" Van's heart jolted, and the cigarette in his hand nearly snapped. His gaze faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He followed Winnie closely, entering the empty corridor. "Come with me." Van grabbed her wrist urgently, his tone insistent. Winnie shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears, a mix of anger and pain written all over her face. "Let go of me!" A complex emotion flashed in Van's eyes, but in the end, he didn't say anything. He simply held onto her, his steps resolute. "What's wrong?" Winnie frowned, looking at him. "I forgot something just now, so I came back to get it," Van replied calmly. "What did you forget?" Winnie paused, realizing his words weren't what she had assumed. She retorted angrily, "I'm not an object!" Van's lips curved into a slight, almost helpless smile. He turned his head, dialing a number. "Contact the theater. Have someone come to meet us and prepare a women's work uniform, size M." "I'm wearing size S!" Winnie gritted her teeth. "She's wearing size S," Van corrected, his voice unfazed. Eric on the other end of the line paused, confused. "Understood. Tell me the location." Van quickly gave the location and hung up the phone, then dialed a second number. "Winnie isn't feeling well. She can't attend the second half of the awards ceremony. Let the festival organizers know and prepare the press release," he instructed. There was a moment of silence on Wendy's end. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. Van immediately picked up Winnie in his arms and swiftly darted into the restroom. Even in a tense situation, his movements were still impossibly graceful. Lowering himself, he picked up the "Do Not Disturb" sign placed by the door with one hand, as naturally as if he were playing bowling. He propped the yellow warning sign up, and with a loud bang, the stall door was immediately locked. "This..." Winnie didn't get a chance to finish speaking before Van covered her mouth with his clean hand. They looked at each other, their gazes intertwining like a silent conversation. Van removed his hand and gently traced her lips with his thumb, his eyes soft yet deep, filled with an unspoken longing. He lowered his head and kissed her gently. His thoughts had been disoriented earlier, and he almost forgot today's purpose. He should have taken her home. Jealousy, possessiveness, all the unresolved emotions—he would deal with them later, when they were alone. He couldn't let his impulse ruin this moment. The instant their lips met, he realized—It's been five days since we last kissed. Those five days had felt like an eternity. Winnie initially intended to push him away, but when her hand touched his shoulder, she decided to drop her guard. She wrapped her arms tightly around him. Her body felt weightless, as if she depended on him to hold her up, her toes barely grazing the floor. She couldn't keep her balance, and the sharp click of her high heels echoed faintly on the tiled floor. Van's kiss grew more intense, as he relentlessly invaded her mouth, entwining his tongue with hers, as though trying to drain every last bit of breath from her, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Her legs weakened, and she could barely stand. Van sensed every subtle reaction from her, and he leaned close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Should we go home?" Winnie didn't answer. Instead, she reached up and loosened his tie, her fingers grazing the Adam's apple at his throat. Suddenly, the door shook violently, and her back was pressed against the champagne-colored door panel. She tilted her head back, her face a mixture of emotions as she closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of the light. Her hands gripped the door tightly, her fingertips turning white as she struggled to hold herself up. Her breath came in shallow gasps, as if struggling to endure yet also immersed in the moment. Van's phone buzzed repeatedly. After hanging up, it rang again. After two calls, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a calm voice from the outside: "Is Eric there?" But neither of them inside responded.