When Hearts Collide: From Ashes to Love

"Zoe, my head is spinning. I didn't think that sweet wine would be so strong. Ugh, I feel terrible!"

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have come to drink. Paying money to suffer—how stupid. If we'd gone for hot pot instead, imagine how much better that would've been."

Aaron chuckled lightly, his hand resting gently near her lower back to steady her. She was still the same as before, always calculating value for money in everything she did. Wasn't that exhausting?

For Aaron, as long as he liked something, no matter the cost, he was willing to pay for it. Life was already hard enough—why not make yourself happy when you can?

"Zoe, you seem taller and stronger than before. You've even developed abs! Wow, have you been secretly working out?" Marian exclaimed as her hands roamed freely over Aaron's body. She even slid her hands under his coat, running her fingers over his abs. Aaron's brow furrowed tightly, unsure if he should stop her.

Logic told him he should grab her hands immediately, but…

"Zoe, why aren't you talking? Have you finally gone mute? Haha, I've been waiting for this day for years!" Marian giggled.

Aaron's eyebrows knitted further. Weren't she and Zoe supposed to be good friends? Why would she be wishing for Zoe to go mute?

"Zoe? Zoe?" Marian drunkenly called out for her best friend, unaware that Zoe was standing off to the side, dumbstruck and windblown, witnessing the shocking scene unfold before her eyes.

What in the world… was this horror movie?

After several seconds of stunned silence, Zoe's spirit seemed to return to her body. "Um, Aaron… could you give Marian back to me?" she asked, sounding utterly defeated.

Despite not being one of Aaron's subordinates, Zoe found herself addressing him formally, as if by instinct.

Aaron, ignoring the outstretched hands reaching toward Marian, wrapped his firm arms more tightly around her. Turning to Zoe, he asked, "Have you called a cab yet?"

"Uh, no. It's rush hour, and it's hard to get one," Zoe replied, scratching her head, her expression one of utter resignation as she looked at Marian, who was still shamelessly "exploring" Aaron.

Aaron, seemingly unfazed, said, "Don't bother. You can take my car. I'll call for a driver."

He pulled out his phone to arrange for a driver, all while keeping a firm hold on Marian.

Zoe could only stare in a daze. If she told Marian tomorrow about her antics tonight—how she'd groped Aaron—would Marian regret it so much that she'd want to disappear from the earth?

Soon, Aaron found a driver and scooped Marian up into his arms. He nodded toward Zoe. "My car's over there."

"Oh, okay." Still in a daze, Zoe followed after him, her face a mask of confusion and disbelief.

Once in the car, Marian began groaning, "My head hurts… it hurts so much. I feel like throwing up…"

As Zoe buckled her seatbelt, she glanced back at Aaron. "Mr. Aaron, maybe I should sit in the back with her. I'm worried she might throw up…"

She couldn't bear the thought of Marian throwing up in such an expensive car—and on such a meticulous man, no less. That scene would be too horrific to imagine.

Aaron, however, acted as if he hadn't heard her. He rolled down the car window slightly and instructed the driver to drive slowly.

When they finally made it through the congested city center, Aaron asked the driver to pull over.

Through the rearview mirror, Zoe saw Aaron gently adjust Marian's position before stepping out of the car. A few minutes later, he returned with a plastic bag in hand.

Curious, Zoe noticed a fragrant smell wafting from the bag.

The car eventually stopped outside Zoe's apartment complex. Zoe quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and got out to help Marian, who was sprawled awkwardly like an octopus. "Thank you, Mr. Aaron."

Though she didn't have the best impression of him, Zoe was reasonable enough to acknowledge his help. A thank-you was the least she could offer.

Aaron handed her the bag. The fragrance grew stronger. Meeting Zoe's curious gaze, Aaron said casually, "It's some hangover soup. It works well."

"Oh, thank you," Zoe replied, suddenly finding him unexpectedly considerate. The fact that someone as wealthy and aloof as Aaron would buy hangover soup for Marian—even Zoe, as Marian's best friend, hadn't thought of that.

After Marian drank the soup, it worked wonders. In two hours, her headache disappeared, and after freshening up, she felt rejuvenated.

Looking at Zoe, who was slumped on the couch, exhausted, Marian felt a pang of guilt. "Let me give you a massage. You must be worn out from helping me get home."

Zoe rolled over and scrolled through short videos on her phone. "Not really. I'm fine. If anything, Aaron's probably the one who's mentally drained."

"???"

Marian froze. "What does this have to do with Aaron?"

She shook her head, trying to recall the events of the afternoon. She remembered drinking with Zoe, turning her head and spotting Aaron, and then… they left together.

"Marian, don't tell me you forgot everything you did to Aaron?" Zoe shot up dramatically, scaring Marian into clutching her chest.

"What… what did I do to him?" Marian stammered nervously. She grabbed Zoe's hand, panicking. "I didn't curse him to his face, did I?!"

"No, you didn't."

Marian breathed a sigh of relief.

"You just… touched him. Everywhere," Zoe said, deliberately emphasizing the word "everywhere."

Marian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Your naughty little hands had a free-for-all on him."

Marian: …

"Oh, and Aaron even bought you hangover soup."

Marian: …

She pressed her hands to her forehead, thinking hard for ten minutes, piecing together fragmented memories. It seemed she had indeed behaved rather… ungracefully toward Aaron.

Debating whether to apologize, Marian searched for Aaron's name in her contacts. Finally, she drafted a message:

"Mr. Aaron, I sincerely apologize for my behavior this afternoon. I was drunk and not in the right mind. I'm truly sorry! Also, thank you for driving us home and for the hangover soup. I really appreciate it!"

After reading it over several times to ensure the tone was sincere enough, she hit send.

Aaron replied quickly:

"That's it? Just a sorry and a thank you? Words are easy. Anyone can do that."

Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with just a verbal apology.

Marian replied meekly:

"How about I treat you to coffee on Monday?"

"Coffee's cheap. Let's do dinner instead."

Marian: … Isn't he rich? Why does he care about this?

Suppressing her pain—both emotional and financial—she replied:

"Fine. You pick the time and place."

"Monday evening. Four Seasons."

Marian groaned. She'd known dinner with Aaron would be expensive, but the Four Seasons? At over $2,000 per person, it was beyond painful.