?Chapter 753:


    Worried for Ste, Truett eventually asked Marc to hire a professional caregiver.


    Marc, seizing the opportunity, yed the role of a devoted grandson—hovering at the hospital, tending to Truett, and always finding ways to fuss over Ste whenever she was present.


    Ste found his presence suffocating. Yet, faced with Truett’s frail figure in bed, she couldn’t bring herself to cut tiespletely.


    Whenever she visited, she kept her distance from Marc, sitting quietly in the corner or chatting softly with Truett about trivial things.


    That evening, after a tense meeting reviewing experimental results, Ste’s head throbbed as if it were splitting apart. She rubbed her temples, ready to pack up and head to the hospital, when her phone buzzed inside her bag.


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    She frowned. She’d only unblocked his number so she wouldn’t miss any updates about Truett. Without hesitation, she rejected the call.


    But almost instantly, the screen lit up again.


    Grinding down her irritation, she answered, her voice t and tired. “What do you want?”


    Marc’s tone came through the receiver, soft and deliberately gentle. “Stel, are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner.”


    “No.” The refusal left her lips without hesitation.


    She had no desire to share a table with him.


    Sensing her rejection, Marc hurriedly added, “I know how hard it’s been for you—working all day, then visiting my grandpa at night. I really appreciate it, truly.”


    Ste’s lips curled into a cold line, unmoved. “Don’t thank me. I visit Truett because he’s been kind to me. This has nothing to do with you.”


    On the other end, Marc paused, his voice catching as though hurt. “I know. But he’s still my grandfather, and I’m grateful you’ve been there for him. Please, just one meal—take it as my way of showing thanks. Nothing more.”


    “There’s no need,” Ste said coolly. “I don’t need your gratitude.”


    “I understand, but I can’t sit with the sense of debt, knowing how much you’ve done. If you turn me down, I’ll just keep searching for ways to repay you.” His tone shifted, pressing the point with quiet persistence. “Please, Stel. Let me ease my conscience, just once. After this dinner, I won’t trouble you again.”


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    The words were wrapped in humility, but the undertone was clear—if she refused, he would only pester her in other ways.


    Ste exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew Marc too well. If she didn’t agree, he’d keeping up with new excuses. It was better to face him once and end it cleanly than to let him linger like a shadow.


    After a long pause, she finally relented. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Send me the address. But understand this—just this once. After tonight, aside from Truett’s health, we have nothing left to say to each other.”


    “Agreed!” Marc’s voice lit up with triumph, unable to hide his joy.


    Hanging up the phone, Ste gazed out at the darkening sky beyond the window, feelingpletely worn out.


    Ste just wanted the dinner to be over so she could rid herself of Marc, who trailed behind her like an annoying shadow she couldn’t shake off. As soon as she stepped inside, soft violin music drifted through the restaurant. The ce was famous for its breathtaking view of Choria’s glowing skyline, the kind of romantic spot people saved up for and fought to reserve.


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