The Paper Wife’s Empire novel Chapter 280

By now, both of them were ravenous.

Ramona set out the plates and utensils, put on a movie, and they settled in to eat their dinner. This time, instead of a horror movie, she had queued up a selection of indie films she’d carefully curated, spanning various genres.

When she let him choose, he surprisingly picked a romantic drama.

The plot followed a pair of childhood friends. In their youth, the girl had chased after the boy, who remained indifferent. But as she grew into a confident and charismatic woman, with a more mature perspective on love, the boy found himself captivated by the person she’d become, and a tender romance began to blossom.

Ethan, who seemed completely unfamiliar with the genre, was utterly engrossed. At every crucial, heart-wrenching turn in the plot, he would instinctively squeeze her hand or frown, deeply empathizing with the characters on screen.

While Ramona was moved by the story, she found Ethan’s reaction far more captivating. Watching him so completely invested, she couldn’t suppress a smile.

When the credits rolled, she saw him subtly brush a hand across his nose and thought he might have been crying.

“Are you okay? Need a tissue?”

A little embarrassed, Ethan waved her off. The final scene, with the couple watching the sunset, had struck a chord deep inside him, making his chest feel tight and his eyes sting. But he hadn’t cried.

He wouldn’t… cry.

“Alright, alright,” she teased. “I see. So, the formidable Mr. Jordon is not only a secret softie but a sentimental one at that. It’s been ages since a movie made me tear up.”

She looked as if she’d discovered a new continent. The more flustered he got, the wider her grin became.

Ethan shot her a helpless look. “I told you, I didn’t cry.”

“Okay, you didn’t cry,” she said, patting his shoulder as if placating a child. “I had fun watching with you. We should do it again sometime.”

With that, she turned off the TV, cleared the takeout containers from the table, and headed for the bedroom, humming a little tune. It was time for a shower.

She had just wrapped a towel around herself when the bedroom door opened and Ethan walked in.

“Ethan,” she said, turning quickly. “I’m about to take a shower, you should—”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you before. What are you nervous about?”

He sounded deliberately nonchalant as he stepped behind her. Before she could react, his hands wrapped around her waist, and with a flick of his thumbs, her towel fell to the floor.

Even though her back was to him, the sudden nakedness sent a flush of embarrassment through her. She instinctively moved to bend down and grab it, but his arms tightened around her waist, holding her in place. “Let’s shower together.”

“Stop it…”

“It’s a little difficult for me to manage on my own,” he murmured, his voice low. “Could you help me?”

It was his trump card. Without waiting for her answer, he unbuttoned his pajama shirt. It slid easily from his shoulders and pooled on the floor, covering her fallen towel.

Ethan’s gaze was intense, and he had the distinct feeling that her smile was a mask.

She couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and quickly tried to change the subject. “By the way, Grandma and Grandpa want to have dinner with us tomorrow night. I told them you couldn’t travel, so I invited them here. We can ask Shelby to come, too. I’ll cook…”

“Wherever you go, I go.” He refused to be distracted, bringing the conversation right back.

“I can’t take you with me,” she said, her tone firm. “You need to rest. It’s too far.”

“I can manage,” he insisted. “I don’t like the idea of you going alone.”

“What is there to worry about? I’m going for work…”

“You’re lying,” he said, his voice turning cold. The warmth from moments ago vanished, replaced by an unyielding hardness.

“How am I lying? I…”

“You’re hiding something from me.”

He knew her tells. When she was hiding something, her eyes would dart around and her voice would take on a forced, cheerful quality. If this were just a simple business trip, she wouldn’t have been so deliberate in mentioning it.

The last trace of a smile vanished from his face. He reached out, his hand gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “What is it, Ramona? What can’t you tell me?”