She Flash-Married To His Rival by Harber Venus

Moira had spent the whole afternoon diligently in the piano room. After she finished the final piece, her fingers were sore.

She held her phone, reluctant to open it.

But the number of unread messages was overwhelming, so she reluctantly placed her phone on the table. She massaged her fingers as she opened the message box.

Lenka: [How's your leg recovery going? Are you able to work yet? A company overseas is inviting you to perform at their first concert.]

Juliet: [So, did Cynthia contact you today?]

Following Juliet's message was one from Cynthia.

Cynthia: [Are you angry, Moira? I'm sorry, but can you tell me why? What did I do to make you mad?] Accompanied by a crying cat emoji.

Cynthia sent this message at around three in the morning. Moira didn't initially want to reply, but upon seeing her pitiful emoji, her damned soft heart melted.

After some consideration, Moira sent a tactful reply. [I'm not angry, and I don't dislike you. I'm just embarrassed. I love boys. I'm not worth your affection!]

Moira suspected Cynthia was waiting with bated breath for her reply. Just as she sent the message, Cynthia replied instantly. [You finally replied to me! It's okay. I just like you! You're super cute!] Was Cynthia genuinely clueless or just pretending?

Just as Moira was about to make things clearer, she heard a sound from the hallway.

Moira instinctively looked up and saw Barclay, dressed to the nines, walking in.

He walked to the shoe cabinet, bent down to change his shoes, and reached to loosen his tie. Moving to the table, he poured a glass of water, drinking while unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. Moira watched as his rolling Adam's apple gradually revealed itself, involuntarily blushing again.

She guiltily averted her gaze and vigorously rubbed her right-hand fingers. "You're back?"

"Yeah."

Barclay nodded lightly, his gaze falling on her hand. "Is your hand hurting?"Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"I've been practicing the piano for a long time."

She was used to it.

Moira had carpal tunnel syndrome in her wrist for several years now, often recurring and never fully healing.

Barclay set down the glass, looked at her, and asked, "Are you still uncomfortable?"

Moira stiffened and finally

remembered what she had donedast

night, her face flushing red. "I'm not

uncomfortable anymore. I'm sorry, Mr. Covington. I offended you again."

Barclay didn't say anything and just slightly lowered his head to look at her.

Feeling embarrassed under his gaze, Moira lowered her head to look at her phone. Cynthia had sent a bunch of messages.

She was startled and quickly

clarified it. [No, I mean my feelings

I

for you are very pure! I love boys. But

it makes me embarrassed to face

you now. It's better to end things sooner rather than later. We should cut off contact sooner, so you can move on quickly!]

Though Moira didn't understand why Cynthia was so fond of her, she knew that liking someone one couldn't have was actually very painful.

Having endured this kind of pain for over a decade, Moira naturally didn't want Cynthia to experience the same bitterness she had once tasted.

Cynthia quickly responded. [Moira, I

think you might have

misunderstood! My liking for you is admiration and appreciation, not romantic love. By the way, I also love boys.]

Cynthia: [Moira, you're so adorable!]

Moira froze when she saw Cynthia's reply.

This misunderstanding was truly embarrassing.

Moira couldn't help but raise her hand to cover her face.

'How embarrassing!' she thought. 'How am I going to face Cynthia in the future?'

Her action, however, caught Barclay's attention. "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Moira parted her index and middle fingers, revealing her eyes as she looked at him. "I did something stupid!"

He gazed at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Care to share?"

"Mr. Covington, are you enjoying my misfortune?"

"No."

"But you're smiling!"

"Then I'll stop!"

'Oh God, this must be the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life!' Moira cried inwardly.