Be my friend

Aron POV

"Mr. Finge, I've already called the number you provided. But she said it was the wrong number. She didn't know any Authoress Naughty."

The owner of the publishing house appears remorseful for not finding the book.

"It's okay; I appreciate your assistance. Get in touch with me if you know anything regarding that book. I promise that if you give me that book, I'll fund your publishing company so you can relaunch it." I encouraged her to find that book for me by offering money.

"Sure, Mr. Finge."

My insatiable curiosity won't let me relax. To uncover Uncle Joe's secret, I must find that book as soon as possible.

But how could I be so careless? If she discovers my secret to having these tablets, then how will I face her? She'll assume I'm more efficient during our sex time because I take these drugs.

Fortunately, she put the tablets in the drawer when she heard my stern remarks. However, my nasty remarks hurt her. My heart ached to see her sobbing on the CCTV screen. I indeed married her mainly to satiate my lust for her, but she has now evolved into much more than just a sexual object for me. I had no trouble feeling at ease with her.

At times, I feel like sharing every painful experience from my early years with her to help me sort through my inner turmoil, but I keep myself from sharing anything with her because of how she could react. I want to be her friend. I love spending time with her. It made me feel special to be with her. I don't know how she made ordinary things so wonderful.

I closely monitored her activities via the CCTV screen. My bitter words affected her so much that she stormed out of my room right away. I don't understand why she took my word so seriously that even after feeling pain in her feet, she didn't spend a single second in my room.

Somehow, she made it into the kitchen. She gasped in disbelief as she beheld the state of the kitchen. I caused a huge kitchen mess, but that wasn't my goal. She didn't even think about her injured leg while organizing and cleaning the kitchen.

Why is she cleaning things when she has an injury to her leg? After she cleaned the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of a satisfied expression on her face. She was on her way to the restroom, deep in conversation with herself.

I adore witnessing her self-talk. I believe I also need to install microphones in my mansion so that I can listen in her private conversations. I was so engrossed in watching her every move on the surveillance camera that I completely disregarded my crucial meeting, which was about to begin in just one hour.

She started cleaning the toilet, basin, and floor of the restroom.

What's wrong with her? She cleaned the bathroom as if it were her last day and her only wish. However, I experienced an odd sense of comfort when I observed her cleaning the spots on the bathroom floor and wiping the shower chamber glass.

Alright, now I see why she was tidying her surroundings. Cleaning is a method of removing persistent thoughts from one's head. Her technique was impressive. Without a doubt, I'm going to give this a go to calm my inner chaos.

She cleaned the restroom and then washed a stack of dirty garments. She had a washing machine in the house, so I don't understand why she was doing the clothes by hand. Perhaps the soap bubbles provide her with serenity. She appeared to be having fun with the soap bubbles.

She carried a book as she made her way to her tree house after work.

"Mr. Finge, your meeting will begin in 10 minutes," Selena informed me by knocking on the door.

Sara's activities captivated me so much that I lost all sense of time.

"All right, I'll be there in five minutes." I shut off the security camera and got ready for the meeting by unwrinkling my sleeves, tying my necktie, and putting on my coat.

I asked Selena to postpone the rest of the day's meetings because I was exhausted from working after three hours of boring meetings.

I can't stop thinking about that book. I have no choice but to talk directly to her about this book. When I went into the backyard to look for her, she wasn't there. I went inside my home to search for her. I followed her stealthily into the bedroom after noticing she was entering, hoping to surprise her, but my blood pressure shot up as I saw her pulling out that drawer once more.

"What is your problem, Sara? Why don't you get my point right away?" I grabbed the tablets out of her fingers right away.

"Please explain to me why you use these medications, Aron." I can see the same curiosity in her eyes as I do in my search for that book.

"Could you please explain to me what your uncle Joe did to you, Sara?" I tucked the tablets in my pocket to keep her from trying to find them.

"Sorry, Aaron, I can't tell you. We need to build a trustworthy connection before we can share our secrets, but for now, I'm simply your sex object." She was trying to hold her tears back.

"You can trust me. I assure you, Sara, that I will keep your secrets secure."

I'm not sure why, but I put my hand out in front of her and offered my friendship, curious to know about her past.

Despite my lack of social experience and understanding of what it means to be a friend, I will not pass judgment on her because of her past. I wanted to support her in getting over her previous experiences.

She had a hopeful look on her face last night when she looked at me. She seemed to be searching for a savior in me, just as I was hoping for an angel to save me from the darkness. She said she experienced many new things with me for the first time in her life. However, she is not alone on this journey. With her, I also experienced a lot of firsts.

I looked at her face, hoping that she would accept my friendship offer, but instead of shaking hands, she gave me a calculative look, as if she were using my face to do some mental calculation.

Will she accept my offer to be friends, or will she say no?

I held my palm out in front of her, eagerly waiting to hear her response.