Chapter 158 - 1% (Wuming x Camille. Can skip)

After dinner, Wuming had taken a car and went for a drive. He went to the high way and rolled his windows down and sped through. He just needed his mind to be quiet but unfortunately, it was not helping.

The weight had been lifted off his chest when he had finally told his brothers about Camille. But neither did they know the answer on what he was going to do. He looked at his phone near the console. He didn't have the nerve to turn it on yet. 

He bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he should've stayed home and punched some bags until he collapsed.

Should he just tell Camille--while she was not in deep with him yet? She could still withdraw and… choose to leave if she wanted. But that was the case. He didn't want to tell her because the probability of her leaving was 99%. He did not even know if he had 1% chance on making her stay.

He had never really liked a girl before. He had never really liked ANYBODY to be his partner in life. When he decided to leave his father's house and had accepted his first contract, he signed up for that life that he could not afford to have a family.

"Sheesh," he said to himself now. "Just talk to her and let her decide."

But what was he going to tell her? That he was an assassin? That he would be away most of the time and they need to keep their relationship secret? That his grandmother would not really approve of her? That they ran a mafia operation?

"Or maybe I could convince her with a pros and cons list?" he wondered allowed.

Cons: He was a murderer.

Pros: He was a great conversationalist.

Alright, that was not going to work. 

He could not even make a GOOD and BAD list because everything that he did was bad. There was not a sliver of good in his transcript.

Qing Chen was right. They were the villains.

Wuming took the nearest exit and decided: Yeah, I really should just let her go.

**

He stopped when he was about ten minutes away from Camille's house. He got out of the car and started walking, pocketing his hands on his coat. It had gotten colder in the city over the past few weeks that his throat was getting dry. It might even snow soon.

It would be really nice to walk on snow with Camille. He'd buy her a fur coat and boots and she'd snuggle on his arm as they would walk.

What a great picture, he thought to himself.

"Now let's see how far out of reality is that," he whispered to himself and Camille's house came into view.

"Okay, this might not be the best idea of all," he told himself and was about to turn back—he would just go back another day—when the gate swung open loudly and out came Camille with her arms crossed on her chest.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?"

**

His feet moved although it felt like he was dragging those huge balls that they put on prisoners who would undergo the death penalty. And maybe that was he was about to get from Camille with the way she was looking at him.

He stopped in front of the gate. "Hey."

Camille glared at him. "You disappeared on me and that's what you say?"

"I didn't mean to leave," he said.

"I said, I needed just a text message each day. Is it too much to ask?!"

"It's not," he looked down. "I'll tell you all about it right here right now. But you're obviously freezing."

Her skin felt cold and she was shaking.

He eyed the house. "Is grandmother inside?"

"No. She's at her sister's."

"Alright," he stepped away. "I'm gonna go get my car. Cover up and we'll go somewhere."

Camille groaned with a roll of her eyes. "Just come in! What's the worst you can do?"

"The worst," he whispered and entered the property.

**

Although it looked cold and unwelcoming on the outside, the living room was really warm. Camille had poured them tea and they sat on the floor, wrapped in thick blankets.

"Didn't you get the messages I sent you?" she asked quietly.

"I didn't have my phone for the last three weeks. It was… confiscated."

"Confiscated? What are you, a high school student?" It was as if her frown would never leave her face.

"How did you even know I was here?"

She pulled her gaze away. "I saw you walking. You look so deep in thought."

He sat up straighter. "Yeah, because I came here to be honest with you."

Both their attentions was caught by the sudden beeping of Wuming's phone. They had plugged it in. He reached for it and Camille did not even stop him. There were about a hundred messages in it. He ignored most and scrolled through their thread. 

"You broke up with me?!"

"You were absent. Of course I did," Camille shrugged.

"Ohhh," he said, taking it like it was a free punch. Something bitter started in his stomach. Like he suddenly wanted to throw up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come."

"That's not even what you should be apologizing for."

Wuming looked up and tapped his fingers on the floor, thinking. He let go of his cup and reached for Camille. "Come here."

"No!" she shoot daggers with her eyes. "I'm not going to fall for that again."

He didn't pull his hand back. "This time I'm going to be honest with you. If you want me to leave after this then so be it. You'll never hear from me again."

"Fine! I'll get closer but no touching!"

"With what you're about to hear, I'll take the hand."

"No thanks."

He pulled it back. "Okay, suit yourself."

Camille sat next to him and pressed herself against the sofa like Wuming. "What now?"

"The truth."