"Let's go out. We need to try on our wedding attire," Leon's voice was calm, as if nothing had happened between them last night.
"Wedding?" Emma laughed in disbelief. "Hello, Mr. Leon Gray, since when did I agree to this marriage?"
"Stick to one," Leon replied.
Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. "What?"
"I mean my nickname. Which one do you like more—Mr. CEO or Mr. Leon Gray? I wouldn't mind either one of them because when you say it, it sounds sweet, like an endearing name."
"Oh my gosh..." Emma's face twisted in disgust. "You're not a pervert, right?"
"Ah, come on…" Leon let out an exaggerated sigh. "Why does everything I say sound perverted to you? It was supposed to be romantic, no?"
"No!" Emma shot back immediately, her tone firm and unwavering.
A few seconds of silence passed before Emma finally replied, "By not saying anything at all! That would be the most romantic thing you could do right now."
Emma's reply caused laughter on the other end of the line. "Just get ready. I'll be there in thirty minutes."
"Excuse me, sir. I said I didn't agree to any of this. Am I not clear enough? Or do I sound like I'm joking right now?" Her pitch rose an octave as she became serious.
But her words were met with silence from Leon. When she finally heard a deep, low sigh, she instinctively gulped. "What? Are you going to threaten me now? You know, I really wonder about something, Mr. Leon Gray..."
"What is it?" Even though Emma couldn't see him at that moment, she could imagine his expression when he asked that.
She crossed her arms, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "So… which one are you? The dorky guy who keeps coming up with terrible romantic lines, or the one who thinks he's cool by acting all cold and domineering?"
"Which one do you prefer?" Leon's tone was flat but Emma's face already contorted in annoyance.
"I asked you first—"
"Both are me." Leon's voice remained casual. "I'm just trying to see which one you like more. Some girls go for the guy with the bad, lame jokes, while others prefer the cold, distant type."
"As long as it's you... I hate it!" Emma snapped, immediately hanging up the phone after her words.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but as she stared back at her phone, a thought crossed her mind. "Why am I hating him so much?"
She rolled her eyes up, then looked back at the front and saw her reflection in the mirror, just realizing something. "When did I wear this?!"
The door to her room immediately swung open after her shout. "What happened, Little Miss?"
Aunt Layly appeared behind the door, looking panicked, likely from Emma's sudden scream.
"Ah..." Emma met Aunt Layly's eyes. "Aunt Layly... I don't remember changing into this last night."
"Oh, I changed it for you last night while you were sleeping, Little Miss." Aunt Layly answered nervously.
"You... you what?!" Emma unconsciously raised her voice in shock.
"I'm sorry, Little Miss, but your clothes last night were a bit dirty and damp, so I changed them for you while you were sleeping." Aunt Layly managed to reply though her voice was shaky.
Emma was speechless. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
Aunt Layly gazed down, bowing deeply. "I'm sorry, Little Miss. I usually do that when... when you're drunk," her voice trailed off, anxiety evident in her posture.
Seeing the fear in Aunt Layly's body language, Emma quickly responded, "It's okay. It's just…" She paused, searching for the right words. "Never mind… I guess I could just believe I had an accident two months ago." She chuckled softly, the disbelief lacing her voice.
"Sorry, Little Miss?" Aunt Layly, who couldn't hear clearly, asked.
"It's okay, Aunt Layly. You can go now." Emma offered a small smile, hoping to reassure her.
"Should I prepare chamomile tea for you, Little Miss?" Aunt Layly asked before stepping back toward the door.
"Why?" Emma blurted out without thinking, causing Aunt Layly's eyes to widen in surprise. Quickly realizing her tone, she clarified, "I mean, why chamomile tea this time?"
Aunt Layly, now calm, explained, "Ah… you usually have a headache after drinking coffee, and chamomile tea helps a lot with that."
"Ah…" Emma nodded with a small smile. "Aunt Layly…" She waved her hand in a playful, almost conspiratorial way, gesturing for her to come closer. "This is a secret, but… after I lost my memories, the only tea I drink is green tea."
Aunt Layly blinked, her confusion was clear.
"And frappe," Emma added quickly, scrunching her nose with a cheeky grin. "Frappe only." Without waiting for a reply, she spun around and headed straight to the bathroom, leaving Aunt Layly standing there, baffled.
"Where is she?" A voice came from the door suddenly.
Aunt Layly was just about to leave the room when Melissa suddenly entered. Trying her best to keep her composure, Aunt Layly replied, "She's taking a shower at the moment, Miss Melissa."
Melissa smiled and nodded. "Alright, Aunt Layly. I'll just wait for her here."
"But Miss…" Aunt Layly hesitated, her lips parting as though she wanted to say more but stopped herself.
"Hmm?" Melissa glanced at her while settling herself on the sofa.
"Nothing, Miss," Aunt Layly said after a pause, offering a polite smile. "Would you like something to drink while you wait?"
Melissa tilted her head thoughtfully. "Hmm… chamomile! I'm in the mood for chamomile tea today." Her eyes lit up with the suggestion, and she looked at Aunt Layly expectantly.
"Very well, Miss. I'll bring a cup of tea shortly," Aunt Layly said with a slight bow. She turned toward the door, but before closing it, she cast a sharp glance at Melissa, who sat happily on the sofa.