Chapter 298: Oscar Must Be Somebody

Carole was a fine, romantic restaurant. The waiters served them humbly and respectfully. They were the only diners. Hannah wondered if Oscar had made a reservation or if the lateness of the hour had thinned the crowd.

"Oscar," she called.

"Yeah?" he replied, raising his eyes to meet hers, his attention seemingly undivided.

Hannah thought of Charles, her husband. He often required her to repeat herself three or more times before he registered her words. Sometimes, he'd simply tell her to be quiet, citing fatigue from a long workday.

Hannah strived for composure. She felt her anger and resentment could only be released upon Charles's death.

"Why didn't you call me? I could have left work early," she said.

The question was, in truth, unnecessary. She'd never been able to refuse Oscar.

He was meticulously cutting his steak, saying carelessly, "Never mind. I'm used to waiting for you."

Hannah frowned, unable to recall Oscar ever waiting. Had her memory failed her?

"And you did come after work, didn't you?" he added naturally.

She couldn't decipher his thoughts. Was he genuinely unbothered by her tardiness?

"Done!" he declared suddenly.

Hannah frowned again, bewildered. Could he not behave normally? His actions unnerved her.

Then, he stood, exchanging plates with a practiced grace. His steak was neatly cut into small pieces; hers was barely touched.

Hannah stared.

"Enjoy," he said with a smile.

She knew she could cut her own steak; she wasn't spoiled. Besides, she'd already tasted it. She watched as he effortlessly cut and ate a piece.

Hannah lowered her gaze to the perfectly portioned steak.

"Thanks," she murmured, overwhelmed. His thoughtfulness was beyond words; she couldn't, wouldn't, reject him again.

"Don't just say it. Do something," he said playfully, attempting to lighten the mood.

Hannah met his gaze.

"Hannah, I love…" He was interrupted by the sound of a kiss.

She kissed him. Afterward, she sat back, shy and self-conscious, like a child who'd misbehaved.

Oscar's unwavering gaze became too intense. Then, he subtly licked his lips. It was undeniably seductive.

Their dinner continued in a sweet, romantic atmosphere. They went home together. Max, their housekeeper, would be waiting, regardless of the hour.

Back in their room, after enjoying dessert brought by Max, Hannah asked, "How did you find such a good housekeeper?"

Oscar turned, speaking slowly, "With my life. Do you believe it?"

She was taken aback. Initially, she thought he was joking; then, she considered the possibility that he wasn't.

He offered no further explanation, instead gently stroking her hair. "He's your housekeeper too. Don't be envious," he said with tender affection.

Envy wasn't the emotion. Instead, she suddenly believed Oscar must be someone extraordinary.

The next morning, Hannah awoke to find Oscar gone. She felt disappointed; she'd hoped for a goodbye. He'd left silently, just as she'd subconsciously feared. She hadn't slept well, anticipating a morning farewell.

She rose and spotted a note on the bedside table: "Text me if you miss me. I'll text you back ASAP. Yours, Oscar."

He was incredibly self-assured.

She reread the note; his handwriting was elegant and fluid.

Ten days passed. Hannah was busy with work, but she followed Oscar's lecture tour. Their speeches were recorded and uploaded online, though personal interaction was limited.

She checked the online voting for Oscar and Charles. Charles had significantly greater media exposure. If it weren't for Oscar's striking looks and admirers, he would likely be losing badly. Victory seemed impossible. Hannah found it unbearable to contemplate Charles's triumph.

She hesitated before deciding against calling Oscar. He'd return the next day; they could discuss things then. She didn't want to add to his stress. The thought of his return quickened her pulse.

She closed the webpage, preparing to resume work, when her phone rang. She recognized the number and was surprised; Oscar hadn't called in ten days. Their communication had been limited to occasional texts; Oscar usually sent a picture of his location.

She answered, "Hello, Oscar."

"I probably won't be home tomorrow."

Hannah was stunned.