Forgive me

As she hid inside the wardrobe, her heart pounded rapidly against her chest. Closing her eyes, she silently prayed that Ford wouldn't notice her presence or, worse, discover her hiding spot. His presence was unmistakable—she could feel it in the air.

He had called out, asking if anyone was inside, but she remained perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. She wondered why he hadn't noticed the lights were on. Had he realized they weren't on before? If he had, then he must have suspected someone was there.

The tone of his voice and the urgency of his question made it clear that he was on high alert. If he decided to search the room, she knew she wouldn't stay hidden for long. Panic gripped Elena as the fear of being caught loomed over her.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the room. Her eyes snapped open in shock. A moment later, she heard the unmistakable sound of the doors being shut.

"Was he gone already?" she wondered. But fear and panic anchored her to the spot, refusing to let her leave the safety of the wardrobe.

Then, to her horror, she felt an itch in her throat—she needed to cough. Desperately, she swallowed hard, trying to suppress it.

"Of all times, why now?" she cried silently, frustration mixing with fear.

The seconds dragged on, but the tickle in her throat only worsened. The wardrobe was thick with dust, and she could no longer fight it. The cough was coming—whether she wanted it to or not.

The urge to cough had become unbearable. Though the door had been shut, she still couldn't take any chances. She wanted to be absolutely certain that Ford had left the room, but doubt lingered—especially since the lights were still on.

Finally, she gave up. She could no longer suppress it; the cough was inevitable. Just as she was about to let it out, the lights flickered off.

Elena's eyes widened in shock. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips, desperately trying to steady herself. But at that moment, she knew—Ford was still there. He was waiting for her to reveal herself.

And then, the cough escaped.

As if on cue, the lights in the room snapped back on.

"Who the hell are you?" Ford thundered angrily.

The sheer fury in his voice sent a wave of terror crashing over Elena. She was petrified, unable to summon the courage to leave the wardrobe. Her entire body trembled as she remained curled up inside, paralyzed with fear.

"I won't repeat myself again," he growled, his tone even sharper this time.

Elena knew she had no choice. Staying hidden would only anger him further. She was still grappling with what to do when, suddenly, the wardrobe doors were yanked open with force.

Ford's expression shifted from rage to shock as his eyes landed on her small, trembling figure. He hadn't known what to expect, but finding Elena curled up inside the wardrobe was the last thing he anticipated.

Fords fury remained evident—he had been prepared to throw out whoever dared trespass in his home. But as he took in the sight of her terrified face, something in his anger softened, if only slightly. Even so, he was still seething.

Taking a few steps back, Ford allowed her space to step out.

"I… I'm sorry," Elena apologized as she slowly stood up from her hiding spot and hesitantly stepped out of the wardrobe. "I shouldn't be here. I'm really sorry," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

But as she looked at Ford's furious expression, she knew her apologies weren't making any difference.

"What—!" Ford started, his voice rising in anger. But catching himself, he exhaled sharply, his fists clenching into tight balls. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to speak more calmly. "Elena, what are you doing here?"

Scratching her head in a nervous gesture, she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, her other hand trembling slightly. "Um… I… I was bored," she stammered, her words stumbling over one another. "I just… I didn't know it belonged to your mom," she admitted, fear evident in her voice as she tried to explain herself.

Ford studied her carefully. He could see how terrified she was, but that didn't ease his anger. He had made it very clear—this room was strictly off-limits.

"Weren't you told that this room is prohibited?" he asked, his voice firm and unwavering as he stared her down, waiting for an answer.

At that moment, Elena had the overwhelming urge to lie—anything to free herself from this difficult situation. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, not when the butler had already warned her. And what if Ford called the butler to confirm?

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had been caught red-handed, and there was no easy way out of this.

With her head bowed in thought, Elena knew that telling the truth was her best option. Lying might spare her in the moment, but it could lead to even bigger problems in the future. She had no choice—she had to be honest.

Slowly, she lifted her head, attempting to meet Ford's gaze. But the fury in his eyes was too intense—she couldn't hold his stare.

"Yes… I was instructed not to enter here," she admitted truthfully, lowering her eyes almost immediately.

Ford's arms folded tightly across his chest as he glared at her. "You were instructed, yet you still chose to go against it?" he questioned, his voice laced with anger.

Elena opened her mouth, wanting to explain herself, but she quickly stopped. What excuse could justify her actions? She had deliberately disobeyed the rules. Any explanation she gave would be meaningless.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the only words she could bring herself to say.

Ford exhaled sharply. "Elena, do not disobey my instructions again if you wish to remain here," he warned, his voice firm and unyielding. "You may leave."

The moment the words left his mouth, Elena didn't waste a second. With her head bowed in shame, she turned and ran out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her.

Ford watched her retreating figure before rubbing his temples in exhaustion. He let out a weary sigh, feeling a pang of regret. His last words had come out harsher than intended, but she had pushed him to his limit. Coupled with the pounding headache that had been worsening by the minute, his patience had worn thin.

Calming himself, Ford reached for the light switch. Before turning it off, he cast one last glance at his mother's portrait.

"Happy birthday, Mom," he murmured softly. Then, with a deep breath, he switched off the light and quietly closed the door behind him.

As he made his way to his room, his feet unconsciously led him toward Elena's. Stopping in front of her door, he hesitated. Should he tell her not to take his last words to heart? That he had spoken them in a fit of anger? He raised his hand, about to knock, but at the last second, he changed his mind. Shaking his head, he turned away and headed to his own room instead.

Inside, Elena watched his shadow retreat. Her heart pounded, fearing he had come to reprimand her again. She held her breath, only exhaling when she saw him walk away.

"I really need to keep to myself and avoid trouble," she murmured under her breath before sinking back onto her bed.

Meanwhile, Ford entered his room and sat down, loosening his tie and shrugging off his clothes. He felt hot, as if he were burning up, but brushed it off as stress. He made his way to the bathroom, turning on the cold shower, hoping it would ease the tension in his body.

But even as the water cascaded over him, his thoughts remained on Elena. He hoped she wouldn't dwell too much on his harsh words.

Once he was done, he dried himself off and hurriedly put on some clothes. His body felt weak—more exhausted than usual. The moment he lay down, his limbs heavy with fatigue, his eyes fluttered shut. Within seconds, sleep overtook him.

As soon as morning arrived, Ford hurriedly took his bath. He considered checking on Elena but quickly changed his mind. Passing by her room without stopping, he made his way downstairs.

Meanwhile, Elena's eyes fluttered open. She had planned to prepare breakfast for him as a way of apologizing, but Ford had woken up early and was already leaving for work. Realizing she was too late, she sprang out of bed, threw open her door, and rushed down the stairs.

"Good morning, Miss Elena. Are you alright this morning? And what seems to be chasing you?" the butler asked, surprised to see her in such a hurry—especially this early.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted hastily, not sparing him a glance as her eyes frantically searched the room for Ford. But he was nowhere to be seen.

"Has Mr. Ford already left for work?" she asked, disappointment clear in her voice.

"Yes, Miss, he just left a moment ago," the butler replied, watching her curiously.