Define The Relationship Novel - Chapter 51

“Director Ash.”

A voice reached him. Ash, who had been quietly gazing out the window, heard the call, yet simultaneously did not. The sky he looked upon was so blue and clear it hurt his eyes. The high-hanging sun cast diagonal rays, dividing buildings and sidewalks with light. It was an unpleasantly fresh scene.

“…Director Ash?”

Only after he heard the voice call him again did Ash turn his gaze. Ah. Ash blinked, his expression unchanged.

He saw Mikaela staring at him with a puzzled look. Mikaela wasn’t the only one watching him. All the staff members seated in the conference room were looking at Ash.

“My apologies. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

Was he? Even as he said it, Ash wasn’t sure. He hadn’t really been thinking about anything specific. To be honest, his mind had simply drifted elsewhere. Thinking of nothing at all.

“Our schedule has been grueling lately, hasn’t it? Everyone’s worked so hard. We’re in the final stages now, so just a little more effort. We’ll be going into display next week.”

Mackenzie, Ash’s senior and the studio’s founder, who was also participating in the meeting, spoke. Her light brown, ear-length blonde hair swayed gently. With a soft smile, Mackenzie glanced at Ash for a moment.

Ash smiled back at her brown eyes. It was the same smooth smile as always. Mackenzie raised one eyebrow and shook her head. Then she clapped her hands.

“Everyone, take a short break. Coffee—no, caffeine probably won’t work anyway, so have some healthy tea instead.”

A small ripple of laughter spread through the room at the mention of caffeine tolerance, a common affliction among industry professionals. The industry’s norm of overtime and weekend work was similar everywhere, but Mackenzie still tried her best to maintain the familial atmosphere of their early, small studio. Paying meticulous attention to overtime pay and welfare was one such effort.

As their colleagues dispersed with a warm atmosphere, Mackenzie crossed her arms.

“What’s wrong with you lately?”

“Me?”

This time, Ash raised an eyebrow, as if puzzled. With a smiling mouth, Ash spoke again.

“I don’t think I’ve made any mistakes.”

“I know you’re a disgustingly flawless guy. What I mean is, why are you spending more time just sitting there, spaced out?”

The chair wheels scraped. Ash smiled awkwardly. Hmm. He shrugged, as if troubled, and Ash looked out the window again. Something bothered him without a clear reason. It felt as if he had forgotten something important that he hadn’t resolved. He’d felt this way for the past month.

“You’re acting like you’ve lost something really important.”

Mackenzie was always sharp. She had been since their Saint Martin days. Ash had learned a lot watching her, a woman who wouldn’t back down even from professors if she had rational and firm grounds. He learned about work, and even how to express himself.

Still, acting like Mackenzie was difficult. Ash Jones was not someone who preferred to show his sharp edges. It was a character trait ingrained in him since childhood.

Instead of overtly showing displeasure, the method he chose was to draw a line at the perfect timing. Of course, this method didn’t work for everyone. Contrary to Ash’s intentions, his smile always held many meanings for someone.

However, living as someone who smiles is incomparably easier than living as someone who doesn’t.

A child raised in a household where they constantly had to gauge their parents’ emotions quickly becomes perceptive. They learn to read others’ moods and keenly discern unspoken intentions from gestures and words.

Since his mother died and his father remarried, Ash had not gone a single day without smiling. His stepmother, who came with her own child, would invent reasons for Ash’s lack of a smile. She seemed like someone who would scrutinize him, looking for flaws.

Eventually, the stepmother, having fabricated a reason, would turn it into a major incident and go to his father. Even when he was thinking of nothing, simply because he wasn’t smiling, his stepmother would explain that Ash was angry or disrespecting her. Explaining his true state didn’t work with her.

His father completely ignored it. It was natural. The man didn’t love him. There was a reason for that, too.

Ten years old was a bit too young to realize that people don’t care much about others’ true feelings. He had never been sad about that fact. Thanks to it, Ash learned how to be loved. He quickly learned how not to get tired.

At some point, Ash Jones began living with the impression of being a skilled and gentle person. And in living life, such an image was helpful. As he grew older and learned to draw lines, Ash became an attractive yet unapproachable person. It seemed to ignite people’s desires and challenges.

But Ash’s rule was always simple. He would do everything he could for those he loved. For those he didn’t, he would show only a defined measure of goodwill. Ash was very good at maintaining that boundary.

However…

“Is something wrong?”

There was just one person with whom that rule didn’t work at all.

“No.”

No, should he say there was such a person?

Ash leaned back slightly into his chair and rubbed his chin. He etched a smile back into his gently curved eyes.

“As you said, I’ve been busy lately. Suddenly got a big client.”

It wasn’t meant to provoke guilt, but Mackenzie looked apologetic. Running a hand through her hair, Mackenzie said,

“Thanks to that, I had to work you to the bone, combining it with existing projects.”

“Everyone’s similar.”

The time spent at the studio was similar. Only the intensity of the labor differed. Mackenzie, right in front of him, also spent almost no time at home, practically living at the studio. Even when she did go home, she ended up working there.

Ash was the same. He truly had a lot of work recently. To be precise, a project that was difficult for his studio, which pursued innovative designs, had come in.

Offers came simultaneously from a certain department store that preferred only traditional designs and a channel. The moment he heard that, someone came to mind. There was someone he suspected. There was only one person in his circle who could pull such strings.

Ash, who was about to contact Karlyle Frost to refuse, killed his hesitation when he saw Mackenzie, who was delighted, saying it would be a good challenge for their portfolio.

From the beginning, he had never intended to receive anything from the man. It was purely Ash’s goodwill, and simply his feelings for Nick. He didn’t want to attach any price to such things.

However, he somehow felt that he shouldn’t refuse this. He couldn’t clearly understand why. While he pondered, the work began. Decisions had to be made quickly, so before he knew it, Ash was also swept up in an absurd schedule. Without exaggeration, his phone rang incessantly all day as he handled the work.

“No, even I thought it was too much. Well, they are paying enough for it… I’m sorry. Go home early today.”

Ash shook his head, cutting off the thoughts that had begun to drift in another direction.

“I think it would be better to finish it quickly by helping out.”

“It’s not just once or twice; after seeing you in situations like this multiple times over the past two weeks, I don’t want to. Just finish the confirmation and go.”

That’s the end of the discussion. A single word of termination followed. Mackenzie was stubborn about things like this. Instead of wasting energy trying to unnecessarily persuade Mackenzie, Ash decided to compromise to some extent.

Actually… he was a little tired.

It was an early dismissal for the first time in a while. London, deep in autumn, was rapidly preparing to turn into winter. The pleasantly cool air was slowly growing cold. The days grew shorter quickly.

It was already October. Passing by tourists leisurely taking photos, Ash looked into the distance. Mackenzie was right. This unsettling feeling, as if he had lost something, had lasted quite a while. It was a strange sensation.

No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t find the cause. The work schedule according to the Gantt chart aligned perfectly with the plan, and he shouldn’t have forgotten anything, yet the feeling persisted. Instead of getting into the car parked at the building, Ash walked past the parking lot and headed somewhere.

He entered a quiet alley, passed an art supply store and a theater, and emerged onto the main street. Across the road, where red buses and black cabs circulated, was a place he often visited: the National Portrait Gallery.

Ash gazed at the gallery for a moment, then crossed the street as the light changed. It was an impulse he couldn’t understand himself. At this hour, it would be better to go home and rest. Even if he just watched a movie to catch his breath, he wasn’t in the mood to see an exhibition right now.

Thinking so inwardly, Ash just walked. As always, he paid no mind to the glances that brushed past him or the persistent stares. His steps, walking straight ahead, stopped when he spotted someone’s back.

A neat, straight back, a well-tailored suit, a sharp waistline, and neatly combed, light black hair.

Seeing that figure, he couldn’t think of anything. Before reason could judge anything, Ash caught up to the man walking ahead. His shoes impatiently kicked the ground. His insides felt painfully constricted, as if his heart had shrunk to an invisible degree.

The distance closed in an instant. His hasty steps caught up to the man. His hand reached out without him realizing it. Truly, in those few seconds while all this was happening…

“Karlyle.”

He couldn’t think at all. His subconscious moved his body. Impatience surged. His hand, unconsciously gripping tightly, held onto the man’s clothes.

The man, who had been walking with a steady stride, stopped. Swaying slightly from the force gripping him from behind, the man turned around.

And before he even saw the face, Ash realized the man wasn’t Karlyle.

“…Who are you?”

The scent was different.

It was very different from Karlyle’s pheromones. The pungent, stinging alpha pheromones bore no resemblance to Karlyle’s at all.

It wasn’t the subtle scent you’d catch if you pressed your nose to his skin and inhaled deeply. It was a purplish scent, like a flower without fragrance that you could only smell if you got very close.

“I’m sorry.”

Ash let go of his hand. A perfect, drawn-on smile hung on his face. The man, who had turned back with a mix of displeasure and bewilderment, relaxed his expression at the elegant smile.

The alpha’s inherent repulsion seemed to clash with the immediately apparent pleasant impression, but the man soon shook his head as if it were fine.

“It’s alright. Did you mistake me for someone else?”

The man looked younger than Karlyle. On closer inspection, his clothes weren’t the custom-made suit Karlyle wore either. It was the kind of suit you’d see walking around Liverpool Street or Bank station. His body, his face, everything was different.

Ash let out a hollow laugh inwardly. How ridiculous. Even though they were so different, he was still recalling Karlyle’s face at the polite tone. Ash shook his head slightly.

“My apologies.”