Chapter 40

Catherine Morgan's POV

I lay in bed early that morning, staring at the ceiling of my apartment.Being a good daughter had always been second nature to me-from learning piano at age five to choosing Harvard Business School just last year,every major decision in my life had been carefully guided by my mother's wishes. But now, fresh out of college and still uncertain of my path, last night's conversation with Margaret Thompson pressed heavily on my mind.

"Catherine, there's something I need to tell you," Margaret's voice had carried an unfamiliar note of defeat. "Regarding Howard... I'm afraid I won't be able to help you anymnore."

I'd frozen for a moment, though the words didn't really surprise me. Not after the scene at the restaurant. The image of Howard and Annie dining together flashed through my mind again-his relaxed posture, the way his eyes had softened when she spoke.

"It's alright, Margaret," I'd replied, managing a bitter smile at my ceiling."I think it's time I gave up anyway."

"So suddenly?" The surprise in her voice had been evident. "There's nothing sudden about it." I closed my eyes, remembering that carefully orchestrated dinner. I'd chosen Howard's favorite private restaurant, armed myself with every detail Margaret had shared about his preferences. I'd spent hours preparing, choosing the perfect outfit and rehearsing conversation topics. When the waiter presented our menus, I'd jumped at the chance to demonstrate my insight. "The seared foie gras for Mr. Thompson. It's his usual choice here."

But Howard had simply stated, "The sea bass with seasonal vegetables,"his tone brooking no discussion.

Throughout dinner, I'd deployed Margaret's intelligence like precision strikes. "The Giants really dominated last weekend's game. What did you think of their defensive strategy?"

Howard's distracted "Very good" had been followed by a direct hit to my carefully constructed facade: "I haven't followed football since college. That was just a phase, Catherine. And for future reference? Don't rely on my mother's outdated briefing about my interests. I'm not the son she thinks she knows anymore."

The mortification of that moment still burned. All my meticulous preparation had crumbled into awkward silence. Worse still, Howard hadn't seemed to notice or care about my discomfort. His gaze had kept drifting away, as if I were merely part o the restaurant's décor.

Days ago, following Margaret's suggestion, I'd positioned myself at a restaurant near Howard Technologies, hoping to observe his daily routine.Instead,I'd watched him enter with Annie, choosing a window table that left them perfectly visible to my hidden vantage point. The Howard I saw there was a stranger to me. His usually rigid posture had softened, his perpetual mask of polite distance replaced by genuine engagement. When Annie said something amusing, he actually laughed -a real, unguarded sound that made my chest ache. During our dinner,my carefully crafted jokes had earned nothing more than courteous smiles. The way Howard looked at Annie finally made his rejection crystal clear. That gentle attentiveness couldn't be earned through any amount of strategic planning.

"But Catherine, you're so perfectly matched..." Margaret had tried to continue.

"Mrs. Thompson," I'd cut her off, my voice soft but firm, "some things require more than just matching pedigrees."

However, I couldn't shake the restaurant scene from my mind. When I'd graduated a few months ago, feeling lost about my future, Mother had been so certain about what came next. "A good marriage is the foundation of a successful life," she'd said, steering me toward societal events and arranged meetings. In my uncertainty, it had been easier to follow her lead than to question why I, with my fresh Harvard MBA, wasn't pursuing a career of my own. What did that simply dressed woman possess that I lacked?

Perhaps... I needed to understand. At least then I'd know why I'd failed.

I sat up abruptly, decision made. I would go to Howard Technologies and see Annie for myself. The coffee shop was busy with the morning rush when I arrived. I'd positioned myself strategically, prepared toconfront Annie with the same dismissive grace I'd perfected like last time. But when she walked in,something in my carefully constructed plan faltered. "Ms. Baker." The words came out colder than I'd intended,matching the icy determination I'd felt walking into the café. But Annie looked up with a smile that seemed to warm the very air between us. Her eyes held none of the calculation or wariness I'd expected-just a genuine, open kindness that made my carefully prepared barbs feel suddenly petty.

"Ms. Morgan." Her voice carried the same warmth as her smile.′′It2sa pleasure to meet you here. Would you like to join me?"

The invitation seemed genuine, which somehow made it worse.I sat down,my rehearsed accusations dying on my lips.

"I... I owe you an apology," I heard myself say. "For my behavior at the restaurant that day.It was unnecessarily cruel."

Annie's expression softened further. "Thank you. That's very kind of you to say."

"Why?" The question burst out before I could stop it. "Why does he prefer your company to mine? What do you have that I don't?"

To my surprise, Annie's response held no triumph, no smugness."Honestly? I'm not entirely sure myself."

Her candor caught me off guard. "But you must have some idea."

Annie studied me for a moment, then asked gently, "Catherine, may I ask you something? You graduated from Harvard Business School, correct?Why aren't you pursuing a career? Why focus all your energy on securing a marriage?" The questions struck deeper than I expected. I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again. The truth was, I'd never really considered any other path. It had always been assumed..."I.., that's what's expected," I finally managed. "Mother said so." "And what do you want?" Annie's voice remained kind, but her questions were relentless. "What do you actually enjoy doing, Catherine? What makes you feel alive?"

I stared into my untouched coffee, memories surfacing unbidden. "I... I used to love video games, actually." A small laugh escaped me. "Mother was horrified when she found my Nintendo hidden under the bed in high school. She replaced it with intensive piano lessons. Just like she replaced my computer science electives with extra etiquette classes in college."

"And did you enjoy the piano?"

"I became quite proficient." The answer came automatically,then I paused,really considering the question. "But no. I never loved it the way I loved gaming. The strategies, the world-building, the sense of accomplishment when you master a difficult level..."

Annie smiled. "You light up when you talk about it. Your whole energy changes."

"It doesn't matter," I said quickly. "It's not a suitable interest for someone of my background."

"Says who?" Annie's question was gentle but pointed. "The same people who decided your only value lies in making an advantageous marriage?"

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "You don't understand. Our world has certain expectations..." "The world is changing, Catherine. Women can be more than decorative accessories to powerful men." Annie leaned forward slightly. "You're clearly intelligent and capable. Why not use that Harvard degree to pursue something you're passionate about?" "Like what?" I meant it to sound dismissive, but it came out more like a genuine question.

"Well, the gaming industry is booming, Companies are always looking for people who understad both business and gaming culture." Annie's eyes sparkled. "And imagine the impact you could have. You're young,you have a fresh perspective, and with your business degree..."

"Mother would be horrified," I said, but for the first time, the thought didn't fill me with dread. Insead. I felt a flutter of excitement I hadn't experienced since receiving my college acceptance letters. "She always said gaming was a waste of time, that I should focus on more... appropriate pursuits."

"And how has following all those 'appropriate' pursuits worked out so far?”Annie asked gently.

"Maybe that's the problem," Annie said softly. "You've been so focused on being what others want, you've forgotten to ask yourself what you want."

I studied her then, really seeing her for the first time. The warmth in her eyes, the gentle strength in her manner - suddenly I understood what Howard saw in her. She had a way of making you feel both seen and accepted,of helping you see yourself more clearly.

"Thank you," I said quietly, meaning it more than I'd meant anything in a long time.

Annie's smile widened."For what?" "For helping me understand." I stood, gathering my things. "Both why Howard chose you, and why I've been so lost."