Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 127

But it really had been nothing more than a moment of youthful recklessness. The pressure of senior year had been immense, and once it was over, all she'd wanted was to let loose. A little romance seemed harmless.

If you asked her now, she’d tell you she regretted it. Deeply. She’d learned her lesson: no more impulsive decisions. A mark like that on her history was hard to erase.

She was about to say something when the elevator chimed.

Ding!

It had reached the ground floor, where a small crowd was waiting to get on. Marguerite decided to let it go.

They walked toward the parking garage together, a cool breeze washing over them. As the man walked beside her, their shadows merged under the streetlights. She still wanted to ask him why he’d held her hand. Thinking back, it was the first time she had ever properly held hands with a man.

Her phone buzzed.

Marguerite pulled it out to see a message from Theobald.

[Maggie, are you and Mr. Spencer heading back?]

She typed a quick reply: [On our way.]

As her finger swiped across the screen, she saw an earlier message from him, sent that afternoon. He’d had something come up and couldn’t pick her up.

Suddenly, something felt off. Marguerite’s brow furrowed. If Theobald was busy, were his numerous assistants and even Anna all tied up as well?

When they reached the car, George gallantly opened the passenger door for her.

Marguerite glanced at him. “Thank you.”

As she settled into the seat, a thought clicked into place.

"This couldn't have been Theobald’s idea, could it?"

He had seen Joshua and Hannah before she did. He must have assumed she’d be upset—and that her pride would make her furious. How dare Joshua move on while she was still single? So, he called George to play the part of her boyfriend in front of Joshua.

"Of course! That’s why George grabbed my hand the moment he saw Joshua! And why he let go as soon as the elevator doors closed and Joshua couldn't see."

Oh, god.

He was at home, still working. When he saw her name on the screen, a jolt of alarm went through him.

Marguerite had gotten used to the way people communicated these days. For normal things, she used WhatsApp. For something more urgent, she’d make a call. A direct phone call meant it was serious.

His expression darkened. He set his laptop aside and nervously rolled the worn rosary beads on his right wrist with his left hand.

What could have happened?

He swiped to answer, and her bright, clear voice filled the line.

“Theobald, I am officially informing you that I do not like Joshua. I genuinely, truly do not like him. This isn't about pride.”

She continued, “Seeing him with someone else doesn’t bother me at all. And while it’s not something I’m proud of, I have to admit, I was never that into him back then. Agreeing to date him was an impulsive mistake on my part.”

“I’ll write a full confession, a thousand-word apology. You can even write it for me tonight. The bottom line is, you need to stop doing all these unnecessary things for me. Understand?”

...