After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 101: Love is Hidden in the Details

The moment her eyes met Connor Quinn’s, Moira Sloan realized something.

He was exceptionally good at one thing.

Saying the most flirtatious, suggestive things in the most deadpan tone.

Their eyes were locked for less than half a minute, but a thousand thoughts raced through Moira’s mind.

She genuinely considered Connor’s question, but her mind also wandered elsewhere.

For instance, her competitive spirit kicked in. Remembering how she always lost to Connor in these kinds of exchanges, she felt a strange urge to get the upper hand this time.

"Connor Quinn."

Connor’s voice was deep. "Hm?"

Moira pulled her wrist free from his grasp. Looking down at him with a smirk, she said, "What about you, then? Do you like me because I’m pretty? Or do you just covet my body? Or... is it all of the above?"

’She’d taken his question, dug a trap with it, and thrown it right back at him. Let’s see what brilliant answer he can come up with.’ 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

’She had it all planned out.’

’No matter what he said, she had a comeback ready.’

’Liking my looks would be superficial, and liking my body would be crass.’

’If he liked both, then he’d be both superficial and crass.’

Moira finished speaking and stared at Connor expectantly, ready to deliver a comeback that would leave him utterly humiliated.

But Connor didn’t play along.

After she finished, he remained silent for a long time.

So long that Moira thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. Then, his Adam’s apple bobbed. His expression was calm as he slowly said, "I like you for who you are."

Moira was... speechless.

Having said his piece, Connor stared at her with his deep, dark eyes.

His gaze was firm, yet held a hint of complex emotions.

Being watched by him like that, Moira’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. To hide her discomfort, she turned, swaying her hips as she walked away, casually leaving the words "You’re sick" hanging in the air.

’Connor Quinn really was sick.’

’And it was serious.’

From the moment she returned to her bedroom suite until she fell asleep, Moira mulled over this problem.

’He clearly knew she didn’t like him.’

’He knew that pouring any more energy into her was a lost cause.’

’And yet he still deluded himself into thinking he could change things through sheer effort.’

’If that wasn’t being sick, what was?’

’In her thirty-plus years of life, she would never do something like that.’

Her attitude toward all relationships was the same, whether it was with family, lovers, or friends.

If they loved her, she would love them back.

’That whole "moving heaven and earth, but in the end, still not moving you" thing?’

’Rest assured, the only person moved by it all was you. Heaven and earth couldn’t care less. It’s all just you being a drama queen with too much going on in your head.’

That night, Moira’s sleep was fitful.

Perhaps because of what Connor had said, she dreamed of the day Shane Jennings confessed his feelings to her.

Shane Jennings stood at her company’s entrance, holding a bouquet of roses. He was dressed in a suit, the picture of an elegant gentleman.

He checked every single one of her boxes for a potential partner, a perfect match.

To be honest, even reliving this scene in a dream, her heart still fluttered for the man he was back then.

Amidst the teasing cheers of the crowd, she was pushed in front of Shane Jennings.

For once, she was shy and bashful. She reached out to take the roses from Shane, but as she lifted her eyes, she suddenly spotted someone else.

He was standing a short distance from the crowd, hands in his pockets, his face devoid of any smile. He looked cool and distant, like a mere bystander.

And yet, the sight of this particular bystander made the dreaming Moira’s heart lurch.

The next second, he turned and walked away. A sharp pain shot through Moira’s heart, then spread to every corner of her body.

At two in the morning, Moira was woken by pain.

She was drenched in sweat.

Curled up in bed, she gritted her teeth, her body trembling.

It wasn’t her heart that hurt, but her stomach.

Her period had come.

She could clearly feel the flow but didn’t dare to move.

She hadn’t brought any supplies.

After a few minutes, Moira gritted her teeth, fumbled for the phone on her nightstand, and dialed Connor Quinn’s number.

The ringtone played for a bit. Connor didn’t answer, but the sound of a man’s steady footsteps echoed from outside her door.

A moment later, the door opened. Connor stood in the light of the doorway, looking at her. His voice was deep and husky, laced with the laziness of someone woken from a deep sleep, as he asked, "What’s wrong?"

Moira had lived her whole life fearing nothing in heaven or on earth, except for that time of the month.

She might seem spoiled and willful on a normal day, but her period showed her no mercy, putting her in her place in an instant.

She pursed her red lips, intending to act tough, but her voice came out as a whimper. "I got my period. It hurts."

As Moira spoke, the tall figure in the doorway clearly froze for a moment.

The next second, the man spoke. "Did you bring anything?"

In a tiny voice, Moira said, "No."

Connor said, "Wait here."

Not long after, the soft rustling of a man getting dressed could be heard from outside the door.

Connor returned half an hour later. He hadn’t just brought back sanitary pads; he also had a clean pair of underwear and a set of cotton pajamas.

Moira, drenched in sweat, was pulled out from under the covers. She whimpered, not wanting to move. Connor held down her thrashing legs with a large hand and leaned down to kiss her forehead. The usually serious and cold man was now impossibly gentle as he soothed her in a low voice, "Shh, don’t move."