For the fourth time, Sarah turned on her bed. Again, she shut her eyes and again, she opened them right away. Finally, she sat up and stared into the darkness. Her roommate on the other bed was sound asleep.

Sarah ran a hand over her face and into her unbound hair.

It wasn't real. She told herself one more time.

It was upsetting how disturbed she was about Ramsey's supposed proposal. Sarah knew it was a joke, probably the cruelest joke anyone had ever played on her. So, the fact that she couldn't get the very thought off her mind was infuriating. She recalled how she stared at him and wondered how much of a fool she must have seemed to him at that moment.

Urgh.

Sarah buried her face in her palms. Embarrassed. Humiliated. She might as well tattoo on her forehead, 'Needy. Desperate'. It has been two days since that moment. Two days of avoiding Ramsay Blackwell. She hated that she couldn't hide how timid and lost she could be sometimes. Would it make her feel better if she could slap him across the face for making fun of her with such a silly proposal? Maybe. At least, she would stop feeling embarrassed about how she reacted.

Sarah shook her head at herself. Her thoughts were running wild again. She knew, eventually, this too shall pass. So, she stepped down from her bed and quietly left the room. The time was past twelve in the night and Sarah made her way to the kitchen. She opened both doors to the fridge and stared at the contents, craving to keep her mouth busy regardless of the time. Anything the owners wouldn't notice was gone. Mrs. Blackwell didn't have a sweet tooth.

Sarah reached in and carried the platter of half-sliced chocolate cake. She shut the fridge doors and turned only to freeze.

Ramsay stood in front of her, both hands in the pockets of his grey joggers.

Breathe. Breathe! Sarah felt herself breathing again. She blinked.

"Do you need anything, sir?" Her voice sounded shaky to her hearing. With everything in her, she hated it.

Ramsay walked up to her and carried the platter off her hands. He left it on the counter and turned to her.

"Where are the forks?"

She pointed to the cabinet, although puzzled by what was going on. Sarah watched him return to her with two forks in his hand. He handed one to her and was first to take his seat on the stool.

"Please sit." Ramsay invited, along with a light smile when he noticed she hadn't moved an inch from where she stood.

This was all new and certainly uncommon. Slightly, uncomfortable even. Sarah forced herself to move and she sat on the stool opposite him. She watched him take the first bite from the cake and then the second.

"Go ahead, join me." He offered and pushed the platter of cake a little towards her. She stared at it for a few moments. Suddenly, she lifted her eyes to him and shook her head.

"It's fine. I'm okay."

He watched her. Sarah drifted her gaze elsewhere and prayed he would stop staring.

"You've been avoiding me." Ramsay finally spoke out.

Sarah casually furrowed her brows, unable to stabilise her gaze with his when she tried to look at him. "I—I've been busy. With cleaning and... cleaning."

Paused. He smiled a little broader.

"Did you think about my proposal?"

Sarah's furrow deepened. "Proposal?"

Ramsay let out a quiet sigh and stood from his seat. She watched him walk around the counter and take up a stool next to her.

"I asked, will you marry me and you're yet to give me a reply."

Sarah stared at him. Quite baffled. His audacity to prolong this mean joke upset her. She scoffed and lowered her gaze from him.

"I know I work for your family. But it doesn't mean you can toil with me."

Ramsay wore a weak frown and folded his arms below his chest. "I'm not. It was a genuine question."

She lifted her eyes to him. "What?"

He unfolded his arms and spun her seat so she faced him. "I want to marry you. Will you marry me, Sarah?"

This time, she stared longer. Speechless. Surprised. She blinked.

"Why?"

Ramsey looked at her with a warm smile on his face. "Because I think you'll make a good partner."

Sarah drifted her gaze from him and rubbed the side of her neck. "I... I don't understand. I mean..." She looked at him with a softer gaze. "... you don't know anything about me. You—I..."

She paused. "Please... stop." Sarah turned away and stood up from her seat to leave. Ramsay grasped her hand before she completely walked away.

He stood up and she could only watch while he stood in front of her, closer than she ever expected. Her pupils dilated and when Ramsay smiled at her, for a moment, the light anger she felt melted away. But Sarah knew this wasn't real. It couldn't be. Why would it be? For her sake, Sarah understood the importance of standing her ground and giving him a stern warning. Before she could say anything, she felt the tip of his fingers brush against the side of her face and ultimately pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her right ear.

"I'm serious cherry, I want to marry you."

She stared into his eyes, from one orb to the other. He appeared sincere. So much that Sarah was left troubled.

"I'll wait for your reply in the morning," Ramsay added with a broader smile before he let her hand go. Sarah watched until he was out of the kitchen. Her hand touched the side of her face that his fingers brushed against. Along with an uneasy feeling, a burst of excitement crept up on her. Sarah gulped down. She had suspected that she might have a light crush on him but she never entertained the thought. After all, it was a harmless feeling. One that developed because he was good-looking and was nice to her. Now, she feared that light nothing might jeopardize her sense of reasoning.

Sarah sighed. She returned the cake to the fridge and gulped a glass of water. Back on her bed again, she struggled to get her mind off things so she reached for her phone and chatted with her younger brother, Saint.

Are you awake? After a few seconds, his reply came in.

Yes. Why are you?

Sarah sat up and dialed his number. He picked before the third ring.

"They don't often make you stay up this late, do they?" Her brother's opinionated yet concerned deep voice pierced through.

"No, they don't." She paused. "Are you studying?"

"Yes."

Sarah stalled. Hesitant.

He sighed. "What do you want?"

"Well, you're studying hard. I shouldn't interrupt..."

"What is it?" He repeated, his voice a little higher than before.

Sarah sucked in, embarrassed she was doing this in the first place.

"You're a guy. What are some things to look out for in identifying when I'm being played by a man?"

Silence. Then she heard a light chuckle from him.

"Did you finally stop using your family as an excuse and met a man?"

"Just answer the question. Apart from the womanizing aspect, how can I identify a player?"

Saint was silent.

"I don't know, Sarah. Maybe if he lies a lot."

Lies. But she can't tell if Ramsey was true about being serious. Frankly, it all seems very unrealistic, yet, this was happening.

"Who is he?" Saint's query interrupted her thoughts.

"Nobody. Nothing. Forget I asked about that." She huffed and hoped he wouldn't push the topic. "How's Dad and Aaron?"

"They're asleep and they're fine," Saint replied before silence slipped between them. Both are heavy with words and concerns that are difficult to throw out there clearly.

"Sarah, you don't need to have your life revolve around us anymore. We'll be fine. I promise you."

She smiled. Her brother's words were like an embrace in his way. It made every struggle and every part-time or overtime she had ever spent seem like nothing.

"I know. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

By morning, Ramsey agreed to have breakfast with his mother. They were the only two at the long dining table.

"Ramsey, have you heard from your sister?" Freya asked once she was done with her breakfast.

"Not since a week ago." He drank from the cup of coffee.

Freya sighed. "God knows where she's off to now. I only hope she stays off the tabloids for once and stop embarrassing the family." She drank from her cup of juice and then fixed her gaze on Ramsey after she wiped her mouth with the napkin.

Freya picked her phone off the table, unlocked and searched for an image. Once she found it, she placed the phone in front of him.

"Look."

Ramsey looked at the image without hesitation, a photo of a smiling brunette in a red dress.

"Isn't she beautiful? A master's and Ph.D. holder. She's the granddaughter of Edwin Myers, owner of Myers estate holdings. "She will be a great fit for you, our family, and the company."

Ramsey pushed his seat back and stood up to leave.

"Where are you going?" Freya asked.

"To speak to my possible fiancé."

"Ramsey." She called before he could take a step away. "This is serious. Your father needs this. Our empire's expansion is important."

He scoffed. "So, it's not about my happiness after all."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. It's also about your happiness. You need to appear responsible with the company's progress first in mind to the board members."

"Responsible," Ramsey repeated as he put a hand into the pocket of his trousers. "Well, I started something, so it's only right that I accomplish it as the RESPONSIBLE person I am." He flashed her a broad smile and walked away.

Freya lazily blinked away from him. She carried her cup of juice and drank down some.