Deceiving Her Ears: Ignoring Your Call-Chapter 108: Why Do I Feel Like You’re Afraid I’ll Regain My Memory?

Chapter 108: Chapter 108: Why Do I Feel Like You’re Afraid I’ll Regain My Memory?

As he asked this, his hand was still pressing the hot water bottle against her feet, eyes lowered, fixed on her slender ankle—so he missed the flicker of darkness in her gaze.

When he finally looked up, their eyes met. Her doe-like eyes were pure and clear.

Earlier today, while he was waiting for her at the cable car terminal, Franklin Finch called him and, without preamble, asked what was going on between him and Natalie.

It seemed out of nowhere, so he asked Franklin what he meant.

"My sister said Natalie came to the law firm to consult about divorce."

Isaac gripped his phone, brow turning cold. "When was this?"

Just then, Natalie and Julian Beckett’s cable car arrived.

Through the glass, Isaac and Natalie locked eyes.

She glanced at him, unconsciously pressing her lips, her eyes filled with total dependence on him.

"Just a couple days ago. So you and Natalie haven’t made up?"

He hung up on Franklin and strode over to greet her.

Back to the present.

Isaac studied Natalie, not missing any of her reactions.

"Why did you go consult about divorce again?"

"It was about some terms in Grandpa’s will. It came up when I was there," Natalie explained. "I thought it wasn’t important, so I didn’t tell you."

Isaac let out a sigh of relief, eyes dropping. "So that’s it. I thought..."

"Thought what?" Natalie moved a bit closer. "Why do I feel like you’re worried I’ll remember something?"

"When I asked you before—besides forgetting about Mom trying to kill me—if I forgot anything else, you said it wasn’t important."

"So is there still something I’ve actually forgotten?"

Isaac opened his mouth, but it felt like a stone was lodged in his throat.

Natalie blinked, "You really are strange, you know?"

She moved back, took the hot water bottle herself. "I’ll do it."

Isaac stood up; when people are flustered, they become unconsciously ’messy.’

"Are you thirsty? Want something to eat?"

Natalie turned to look at him, didn’t correct him, just said, "I want pasta."

"Okay, I’ll go cook. Keep heating your feet for a bit longer."

"Mm."

She watched as he walked out of the master bedroom.

When she lowered her gaze, her expression was cold.

——

After five days of resting at home, when her foot was nearly recovered, Natalie was finally allowed by Isaac to go out to Beckett Group.

She was reading documents when Vanessa Grant called.

Even though she and Isaac were officially married, she still couldn’t bring herself to say ’Mom,’ so she kept calling her ’Auntie.’

Vanessa was downstairs at Beckett Group and said she couldn’t come up without an appointment. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Natalie had her assistant escort Vanessa upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later.

Vanessa sat in Natalie’s office, sipping the coffee Natalie prepared.

"Auntie, what brings you here? Is there something you need?"

Vanessa put down her coffee, clearly hesitating to speak.

Natalie didn’t push, quietly waited.

"Um, Nat, actually, I came today because..."

Vanessa frowned, really struggling to say it.

But thinking of her younger son...

"Nat, I know Jason offended you—he was out of line, slandered you and Isaac. But he just lost his head for a minute. With everything that’s happened, he’s lost almost everything."

"You can think of him as a cornered dog if you want. That’s what he is, he..."

By now, Natalie had already guessed Vanessa’s reason for coming.

Sure enough, she heard Vanessa ask if Beckett Group could continue working with The Grant Group.

"Auntie, ending our cooperation with The Grant Group was because Beckett Group gets no value out of it."

"Nat..."

The office door was suddenly pushed open.

Isaac walked in.

"Mom."

Vanessa saw her son, coughed nervously and stood up. "Isaac, I was just, uh... passing by, wanted to check in on Nat."

Natalie stood as well and said, "Yes, I was just chatting with Auntie."

"Well then, Nat, I’ll leave you to your work. I’ll get going."

Vanessa grabbed her bag and left.

As she passed Isaac, she was too guilty to look at him.

After she left, Isaac stepped up to Natalie and asked, "Did my mom come to ask you to continue working with The Grant Group?"

Natalie nodded.

Isaac frowned.

"You don’t have to listen. Stick to what you believe."

Natalie sighed softly, reaching out to take his hand. "Or should Beckett Group just keep working with The Grant Group, as usual?"

"No need." Isaac put his hands on her shoulders. "You don’t need to do this for me."

He pulled her into his arms, gently patting her back.

Natalie nestled obediently and softly against his chest, rubbing her head lightly on him. But her eyes remained calm and clear, without a trace of dependence.

——

Isaac had a business dinner that night.

Before, he was always surrounded by trust-fund kids his age, heirs from this family and that, eating, drinking, having fun—never so many calculations and schemes.

But now, it was different.

Everyone at the table were top players in their industries.

He was the youngest. They were polite on the surface, but in truth, didn’t take him seriously.

After several rounds of drinks, Isaac’s face was flushed, and his eyes started to go glassy.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to step out."

He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face to sober up, then returned to the private room.

The door must’ve been left slightly open when he left, so now it was ajar.

Inside, voices drifted out:

"Little kid still wet behind the ears, sitting here yapping with us."

"He’s Beckett Group’s live-in son-in-law now, you dare look down on him?"

"Hahaha. I just can’t stand all these pretty boys living off women. He’s from The Vaughn Residence, after all."

"Vaughn Residence? With Ethan Vaughn, the eldest son and grandson, on top—what is he? Plus, they say when his mom messed around with Ansel Vaughn all those years ago, Ansel’s wife was still alive. Told everyone it was a normal second marriage, but I say she just clawed her way up as a mistress. So he’s the illegitimate bastard—no wonder he’s spineless and clings to women."

"True. But because of Beckett Group, we still have to give him some face."

Outside the door.

With each sentence inside, Isaac’s face grew darker. By the end, his lips pressed into a hard line, his handsome features twisted with suppressed rage.

He swallowed his searing anger, drew a deep breath. Only when his breathing was steady did he push open the door.

"Vice President Vaughn, you were gone long enough. Not feeling well?"

Isaac sat down, lips curling. "No, I’m fine."

He poured himself a drink, raised his glass. "Sorry to keep you waiting—this one’s for you."

"Vice President Vaughn, you’re too polite. Come, let’s toast together."

When it was over,

Isaac stood at the steps, watching the last executive get in his car, then his face changed, clutching his stomach in pain.

He’d been drinking all night; barely touched the food.

Now pain wracked his stomach like a hand twisting and tearing at it.

His face went pale; cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind him.

Isaac instinctively turned, running into a pair of cold, dark eyes.