Chapter 5: Rumors and Regrets

By the following morning, news of Beatrice Layton's engagement had spread throughout the city's business circles.

No one could believe what had happened at the Chapman Estate.

Every newspaper, business magazine, and social columnist carried the same headline in one form or another.

"Chapman Successor Chosen."

"Beatrice Layton Rejects George Chapman."

"Nathaniel Chapman Named Future Family Heir."

The announcement became the biggest topic of conversation among the city's elite.

Some praised Beatrice's unexpected decision.

Others believed she had made a terrible mistake.

Meanwhile, inside Chapman Group Headquarters, employees whispered excitedly in every hallway.

"Did you hear?"

"Mr. Nathaniel is engaged."

"I thought Miss Layton would choose Mr. George."

"Everyone thought that."

"Looks like we were all wrong."

George walked through the lobby with a cold expression.

The conversations stopped the moment people noticed him.

Yet he could still feel countless eyes following him.

For the first time in years...

He wasn't the center of admiration.

He was the center of curiosity.

Inside the executive conference room, his cousins were already waiting.

"Bad luck," one of them joked awkwardly.

"Didn't see that coming."

"Neither did Grandpa," another added.

"Nathaniel really hit the jackpot."

George ignored them.

He opened his laptop, pretending to focus on work.

But the words on the screen blurred together.

His thoughts remained fixed on only one person.

Beatrice.

Why had she changed so suddenly?

What had happened overnight?

The questions refused to leave him alone.

Across the city, Beatrice spent the morning with her parents discussing the engagement.

Her mother looked relieved.

"Nathaniel came by early this morning," she said.

"He brought flowers for me and tea for your father."

"He's incredibly thoughtful."

Her father nodded in agreement.

"Before leaving, he even asked whether there were any family traditions he should respect."

"That's rare nowadays."

Beatrice smiled.

She wasn't surprised.

Nathaniel had always been considerate.

In her previous life, she had simply been too blinded by George to notice.

"You'll be happy," her mother said softly.

"I can feel it."

Beatrice hoped she was right.

After lunch, she decided to visit the small art museum her grandfather had loved.

It had become her favorite place whenever she needed time to think.

The quiet halls were nearly empty.

She wandered slowly past paintings and historical exhibits, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

"Miss Layton?"

She turned.

Nathaniel stood a few feet away, looking just as surprised.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said.

"Neither did I," Beatrice replied with a smile.

"Do you often come here?"

"Whenever I need to think."

"Me too," Nathaniel admitted.

They began walking together through the gallery.

Neither of them tried forcing conversation.

Instead, they discussed the artwork hanging around them.

"This landscape is beautiful," Nathaniel observed.

"It's peaceful."

"Most people prefer dramatic paintings," Beatrice said.

"I prefer peaceful ones."

"Peace is underrated," Nathaniel replied.

"Especially after difficult times."

His words lingered in her mind.

Without realizing it, they had spent nearly two hours inside the museum.

When they finally stepped outside, Nathaniel looked slightly embarrassed.

"I hope I didn't keep you too long."

"Not at all."

"Actually..."

Beatrice smiled.

"This has been the most relaxing afternoon I've had in years."

Nathaniel returned her smile.

"I'm glad."

"Perhaps we can visit again sometime."

"I'd like that."

Neither noticed the black luxury sedan parked across the street.

Inside the vehicle sat George.

He had arrived only minutes earlier after leaving an afternoon meeting.

The moment he saw Beatrice laughing beside Nathaniel, something inside him twisted painfully.

"Since when does she smile like that?" he muttered.

He couldn't remember ever seeing that expression directed at him.

His driver glanced through the mirror.

"Sir?"

"Drive."

"Yes, sir."

The car pulled away.

But George continued looking back until the museum disappeared from view.

That evening, he returned to his apartment feeling unusually restless.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey before standing beside the window.

The city lights stretched endlessly below.

Normally they helped him relax.

Tonight...

Nothing helped.

Closing his eyes, he tried clearing his mind.

Instead, another vivid memory surfaced.

A hospital corridor.

Doctors rushing past him.

Someone saying...

"We're sorry. We couldn't save her."

George's eyes flew open.

His breathing became uneven.

"Who..."

"Who died?"

The answer remained frustratingly out of reach.

At that exact moment, his phone rang.

It was Isabella.

"Georgie," she said cheerfully.

"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow?"

"I'm busy."

"You've been saying that a lot lately."

"Is everything alright?"

George hesitated.

"Have you ever felt like you've forgotten something important?"

"Something that hasn't happened yet... but somehow already did?"

There was silence.

"That's... an odd question," Isabella replied carefully.

"You're probably just stressed."

"Maybe."

After ending the call, George sat alone in the darkness.

For the first time in his life...

He questioned everything he believed about himself.

Elsewhere, Nathaniel stood on the balcony of his own home, remembering the afternoon he had spent with Beatrice.

He smiled quietly.

She wasn't at all like the spoiled, obsessive girl described by others.

She was thoughtful.

Kind.

Intelligent.

And beneath her calm smile...

He sensed someone carrying invisible scars.

"Whatever happened to you before we met," he whispered toward the night sky,

"I hope this new beginning helps you leave it behind."

Back inside her bedroom, Beatrice placed an old photograph of her late grandfather on the bedside table.

"Grandpa," she whispered.

"I think... I finally made the right choice."

Outside, the first gentle rain of autumn began falling over the city.

It washed away the dust from streets and rooftops.

Almost as though the world itself was preparing for a fresh start.

Neither Beatrice nor George realized that the past had only begun revealing its secrets.

Soon...

The memories both of them feared would return completely.