Chapter 163: Chapter 163- apartment
Lilian arched her brows, a teasing glint dancing in her eyes.
"That depends entirely on your performance, doesn’t it?"
Before she could say more, he reached out, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her—fierce and unrestrained.
Compared to all the sharp words and cold clashes they had shared before, Lilian found she liked this side of him far more. The ease of it. The way it felt natural, unforced—just him, and her.
The drive resumed, quiet and steady, until they reached Burg Eltz. Morrison didn’t linger—he drove her straight to the old family estate.
At the door, he asked suddenly,
"Where are you planning to stay after you return home?"
Lilian turned with a bright, knowing smile.
"Who said I was going back?"
Morrison froze.
"...What?"
"We’re already like this, and you’re still not coming back? Are you trying to start a long-distance relationship with me?"
His voice carried a low growl of frustration. Even with them both in Burg Eltz, the thought of not being together gnawed at him. The idea of her staying in the States any longer? Unthinkable.
Lilian, of course, only made it worse by laughing softly.
"And what exactly are we, hmm? I’ve still got plenty to take care of in the U.S."
She reached for the door, her tone light but laced with provocation.
"Besides, what’s wrong with a long-distance relationship? Think of it as your chance to prove yourself."
The door cracked open.
"If you don’t agree, then forget it. Let’s not talk about this anymore."
Morrison yanked her hand, stopping her from leaving.
Lilian turned back, her bright eyes sparkling like a lazy cat.
"What are you doing?" she teased.
Morrison nearly exploded. After all the effort it had taken to touch her heart, she actually said, "Let’s not talk about it anymore?"
But he quickly seized the upper hand.
"Not talk about it? So that means you admit... you’re already dating me, right?"
Lilian just smiled, refusing to answer.
Morrison took a few deep breaths, forcing himself not to say something about forbidding her from going back to America.
Instead, he released her hand, went to a nearby locker, and pulled out a set of keys, placing them gently into her palm.
"These are the keys to your old apartment. I bought it. If you decide to settle back here, it’s yours."
Back when she had left, heartbroken, she had asked Dave to sell the apartment. Dave, being annoyed at the time, wouldn’t have sold it directly to him. So Morrison had waited until the sale was complete, then bought it from the new owner.
Yes, it had cost him more, but he didn’t care.
Lilian stared at the keys in her hand, astonishment flashing across her face.
He... bought her apartment?
She had sold it before precisely because every corner was full of memories of them—too many sweet, painful memories. She had chosen to let go, to cut herself off from the past.
Morrison, seeing her surprise, met her gaze with steady black eyes and spoke deliberately.
"My reason for buying it... is exactly the opposite of why you sold it."
She had sold it to let go. He had bought it because he couldn’t let go.
Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t moved. That apartment—her birthday gift, her home for so many years—had always been full of emotion, even if she had sold it decisively. And now, to have it returned to her, it filled her chest with a thousand emotions at once.
Finally, she lowered her gaze to the keys in her palm, cupped her hand around them, accepting his gift.
Then she lifted her face and smiled at him.
"I’ll have to check first... make sure no other women have been living there."
Morrison couldn’t help but laugh at her teasing.
"Go ahead, get mad at me."
Of course, no other woman had ever lived there. That apartment belonged to her—how could he ever let anyone else stay there?
Besides, he hadn’t been with anyone in over a year.
He didn’t believe she didn’t know that. But he understood—this was her way of teasing him.
And if it made her happy... well, he didn’t mind at all.
"I’m heading home first. Bye!"
Lilian waved at him, keys clutched in her hand, before stepping out of the car.
Morrison watched her walk into the house, a sly glint flashing in his eyes. Then he started the engine and drove off.
Once inside, Lilian greeted Daniel and Tiffany. Tiffany’s expression remained calm as always, but Daniel... he looked less than pleased. Lilian set down her things upstairs and then went to find Tiffany.
"Mom, Dad doesn’t seem to be in a good mood... is it because of me?"
Lilian had a strong suspicion that Daniel’s sour mood was entirely her fault. She hadn’t used the family driver to return home—he and Tiffany must already know she had come back with Morrison.
And Daniel had never liked Morrison. So naturally, Lilian assumed he was upset with her.
Back when she had been with Morrison before, one of the main reasons they kept their relationship secret was fear of her family’s disapproval. At the time, she had thought, It won’t last anyway, so why make a fuss?
She hadn’t imagined that later she’d fall so deeply in love—or that she could be hurt so badly.
When their relationship had been revealed to the family before, it had also marked the end of their love.
But now, reunited, hiding it was impossible—and no one wanted to anymore.
Tiffany looked at her daughter, measuring her carefully.
"At least you know yourself. You know your father doesn’t like him."
Lilian bit her lip and let out a soft sigh.
"Mom... do you think I have no backbone? That I forgive him so easily?"
Tiffany’s reply was calm, almost philosophical.
"Love is like drinking water—you feel its warmth or coldness yourself."
"Since this is your choice," Tiffany continued, "I believe you’ve thought it through carefully."
Tiffany had always been the rational, open-minded type. She rarely interfered in her children’s lives.
Daniel had originally intended to lecture Lilian when she returned, but Tiffany had stopped him. As she always said, a child’s choices should be respected. Love or hate, sweetness or pain—they are all part of growing up.
Just like Dave and Laurent back then. After experiencing Laurent’s cold indifference, their eventual explosive divorce, and all the neglect and frustrations in between... Dave’s son, despite it all, had grown into a thoughtful, caring husband and father, hadn’t he?
The same applied to her daughter.
Her daughter had once been far too dependent on the family, relying on them for almost everything. Back then, if she had married Morrison, she probably would have been the same—completely dependent, her world revolving entirely around him.
But a woman who depends too much on a man, who places her entire life in his hands... that isn’t a healthy foundation for a marriage. What if one day he left? Her world would crumble completely.
But now it was different. After love and heartbreak, her daughter had grown independent and strong.
Tiffany knew that even if Morrison were to walk away now, he wouldn’t take everything with him like last time.
Love was a trial.
Anyone caught in it could not escape.
Hearing her mother’s words, Lilian stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Tiffany’s.
"Mom... I’ll make sure I’m happy..."
She said it to Tiffany, and also to herself.
Tiffany’s voice was soft yet firm.
"Happiness has to be earned, especially in love and marriage. Only through effort and devotion can it bear fruit."
Just like she had done with Daniel. In the very beginning, she hadn’t held the highest place in his heart—not compared to Bert’s mother. But in the end, she had won him over.
That was Tiffany’s experience. Lilian nodded firmly, then said,
"I’m going to check on Dad."
Daniel was sulking alone in the study. When Lilian pushed the door open, he didn’t even look at her. She walked over and leaned close, smiling.
"Dad... are you mad at me?"
Daniel turned his face away stubbornly.
"I’m mad... at myself. Mad that I ended up with such a foolish daughter!"
He couldn’t imagine the pain he felt when he heard from Dave that she didn’t use the driver to come back. He hadn’t even been able to eat lunch, his mind racing through every moment since her birth—how he had raised and spoiled her—and now imagining the hurt she had suffered in Morrison’s hands... he simply could not accept them getting back together.
Tiffany, as always, was there to calm him. Slowly, he cooled down a bit.
But deep down, he still felt his daughter didn’t deserve this. She was young, beautiful, and successful. She could have any man she wanted—so why Morrison?
Daniel believed his daughter’s innocence had been taken advantage of by Morrison’s silver tongue. Thinking that way made him dislike Morrison even more.
Lilian understood that Daniel was only speaking out of concern. She didn’t know what to say to reassure him. She knew her father disliked Morrison—but she couldn’t resist him.
Caught between her father and Morrison, Lilian didn’t know what to do. Perhaps she should have consulted Laurent; back then, Laurent’s father had repeatedly thrown his son out. She wondered what that had been like.
But now, she had no one to speak for Morrison. His reputation hadn’t been perfect before, and he had broken up with her once...
Still, seeing his own daughter standing there, conflicted, Daniel softened, though he still couldn’t fully forgive Morrison.
"You can be with him... but this time, you call all the shots. Only when you’re absolutely sure he’s worth your lifetime trust will we talk about marriage."
Lilian promised Daniel,
"Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not the naïve girl I used to be."
Love had taught her to grow. Having tasted both love and heartbreak, she had learned to be strong.
Daniel’s frown finally relaxed.
"You’ve had a long trip. Go rest for a bit."
Back in her room, Lilian spotted the keys she had set aside—the keys to her old apartment. She paused for a moment, staring at them before finally picking them up and heading out.
She drove to the apartment, parked, and climbed the stairs. Standing at the door, she took a deep breath, retrieved the keys, and unlocked the door.
The moment she stepped inside, her eyes roamed over the familiar surroundings, taking in every detail of the apartment she once called home.
Before she could fully settle, a familiar presence pressed against her from behind. A warm, steady embrace, and a voice—soft, intimate—whispered in her ear:
"I knew you’d come..."
The sound was soothing, the embrace unmistakably familiar. Her heart skipped a beat, caught between comfort and longing.