The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me - Chapter 103: The Doubt I Couldn’t Shake

Chapter 103: The Doubt I Couldn’t Shake

Lunchtime had always been one of those little pauses in the day where I didn’t have to think too hard. Classes behind us for the morning, nothing to do but sit, eat, and breathe before the next round started. But today, it wasn’t food on my mind.

It was her call last night.

Val sat across from me, a tray balanced in front of her. Some pasta the cafeteria tried to pass off as edible, a carton of juice, and a cookie she’d swiped from somewhere that definitely wasn’t the serving line. She had this way of making anything look like a proper meal, mostly because of the way she leaned in, fork twirling like she was eating at a restaurant instead of under buzzing fluorescent lights.

Meanwhile, my tray sat untouched.

I picked at the sandwich with one hand, the other drumming against the table. My mind kept circling back to it—the way she’d called. Voice only. No camera. Val never did that. She was the kind of girl who’d video call on one percent battery just to wave before the screen cut out. The excuse she gave… “Battery low.” It had sounded too easy. Too neat.

“Mm?” she hummed mid-bite, then swallowed. “Husband, you’re not eating.”

I blinked, caught. “Uh? Oh.”

Her fork clinked against the tray as she tilted her head, studying me the way she always did when something didn’t add up. Her eyes were sharper than she let on, even when she tried to cover it with that soft, playful tone. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” I started, the word dragging. “Noth—”

She cut me off, brows rising immediately. “And don’t say it’s nothing.”

I sighed, shoulders sagging like she’d pulled the truth out of me with nothing but that look. “You sure everything’s fine?”

She stilled. Just for a second. The fork in her hand hovered over the pasta, her eyes dipping—barely. I caught it, though. A shadow flickered there, the kind that hurt to see, because it didn’t belong on her face.

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, though her voice was lighter than her eyes.

“The call,” I said. “Last night. You… you always video call. Always. Even when your phone’s gasping its last breath. But you went voice only.”

And there it was again. A flicker. A wince almost, quick as lightning. Her lips parted, like she might admit something, then closed just as fast. But she couldn’t hide everything. I’d seen the ache, even if she tried to plaster it over.

And yet, beneath it—something else. Something I hadn’t expected. She looked… happy. Not in a careless way. Not in a “don’t worry about me” kind of way. More like—like she was glad I noticed. Like just the fact I was pressing about it meant something bigger to her than the reason she hadn’t shown her face.

Her smile curved, small and stubborn, as if she was daring me to keep pushing. “I’m fine, Kai. Really.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She leaned back, tapping her fork against the tray like she was scolding me. “And don’t think too much. You’ll grow old before your time. And then what? People will say I married a grandpa.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed, the sound breaking free easier than I meant it to. “Wow. So you won’t be with me if I were old?”

Her eyes lit mischievously. “It’s different.”

I narrowed mine, leaning forward. “Different how?”

She gave the tiniest shrug, then stabbed another bite of pasta like she hadn’t just dropped something that cracked me open. “Because I want to grow old with you. Not watch you grow old without me.”

Just like that. Casually. Like she was telling me the weather.

But the words… they sank deep.

She didn’t even flinch after saying it. Just popped the bite of pasta into her mouth, chewed, and looked down like the conversation was over. Like she hadn’t just said something that made my chest feel too tight in the best and worst ways.

I watched her for a long moment, my sandwich still untouched, smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it. She had no idea what she did to me. Or maybe she did, and she was just better at pretending otherwise.

I shook my head, finally tearing into the sandwich before she accused me of starving myself. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm,” she hummed, sipping from her juice box like the picture of innocence. “But you love me.”

I smiled into the bread, because she wasn’t wrong. Not even close.

—

We ate in easy silence for a few minutes, forks scraping lightly against plates, the usual hum of the cafeteria filling the gaps. I pushed my food around more than I ate it, but Val didn’t seem to notice—she was happily twirling pasta onto her fork like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Her foot brushed mine under the table every so often, not by accident, but casual, like she was reminding me she was there.

I let it happen. Let it anchor me.

But the weight in the back of my head—the one shaped like a voice call instead of her face on my screen—didn’t budge.

I was still chewing on that thought when movement at the corner of my vision pulled me out of it.

The newest couple on campus walked in.

Or, more specifically—Marina walked in, and Trent was at her side.

Val lit up instantly, dropping her fork and waving like Marina had just returned from war. “Marina!”

Marina beamed, matching her energy. “Val!”

It was loud, obnoxious, and pure them. They didn’t just hug—they practically squealed, leaning into each other like best friends in a bad rom-com reunion. The kind of energy that turned heads across the cafeteria but neither of them cared.

Meanwhile, I leaned back in my chair, watching the whole show with a smile tugging at my mouth.

But then Val’s smile slipped.

The moment her eyes cut past Marina and landed on Trent, it shifted—her lips flattening, her expression cooling like someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over her head.

And the best part? She didn’t bother to hide it. Not even a little.

Trent noticed immediately. Of course he did—this was Val. Subtlety wasn’t part of her vocabulary. He stiffened, scratching his neck like the cafeteria lights suddenly got too bright.

Marina caught it, too. She blinked between them, brows knitting. “What’s wrong?”

Val didn’t even look at her. Her gaze stayed locked on Trent, sharp and unflinching. “He hasn’t apologized to my husband.”

I stilled mid-bite, the taste of bread and turkey forgotten.

Trent froze, too, then huffed out a breath. “I already did.”

Val’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t hear it.”

I lifted a hand, trying to ease the tension before it caught fire. “He did. A while ago.”

But Val wasn’t letting go that easily. She leaned forward, elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm like a queen studying a criminal at trial. “Yeah, well, I still didn’t hear it.”

Across from her, Marina’s lips twitched—she tried to swallow it down, but a laugh still slipped out before she clamped her mouth shut.

Trent sighed, then, with exaggerated patience, he raised a hand. “Alright. My bad. I’m sorry, Kai.”

Val’s expression softened immediately, like someone had flipped a switch. “Great. Now we’re good.” She leaned back in her chair, smug, satisfied.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

Trent turned to me, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Wow. She’s something.”

“Tell me about it.” I grinned.

Val gasped, hand over her chest like I’d just betrayed her in front of the entire world. “Husband, are you taking his side?”

“Never,” I said quickly, holding up both hands. “Of course not. I’m always on your side.”

That earned me a smile so bright it almost hurt to look at.

The four of us laughed then—me, Val, Marina, Trent—the sound weaving into the cafeteria’s noise until it almost felt normal. Easy.

But then Trent leaned back, shooting me a look across the table. “Damn. I still get jealous whenever she calls you husband. Wish someone would call me that too.”

I smirked. “Careful what you wish for. Comes with a lot of side effects.”

Val nudged me under the table with her foot, sharp enough to make me wince.

Marina rolled her eyes, swatting Trent’s arm. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what Kai gave her to make her call him that, but I’m not doing it.”

The table cracked up again, the kind of laughter that drew glances but none of us cared.

Still, somewhere beneath the noise, in the space behind my ribs, something tugged.

Because even as she leaned into me, eyes bright, laugh unguarded—I kept seeing the flicker from earlier. That split-second when I’d asked if she was fine, and her eyes had betrayed her before her smile locked it all away again.

I couldn’t shake it.

Did she argue with Lucien last night? Was that why she called instead of video? Or maybe they actually talked things out. I couldn’t tell.

The questions clawed at me, but I stayed quiet.

Not now. Not here.

Instead, I let myself laugh with them. Let myself take in the sight of Val leaning against Marina, cheeks pink from giggling too hard. Let myself breathe in this moment of light, even if I could feel the shadows waiting on the edges.

Because that was the thing—every time I thought too much about the storm she might be hiding, I remembered why I wanted to ask at all.

Not just because I was curious. Not just because I wanted to know.

But because I wanted to make sure she was always smiling like this. Not just happy. Safe. Okay.

Mine.

And that alone was enough to keep me quiet—for now.

—

To be continued…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by AiKurou