Chapter 914: Chapter 914 Philosophy
Carrie’s mom’s words struck deep.
She wanted to argue, to insist she was being careful, but guilt crept in instead.
Because her mom wasn’t wrong—Carrie was sneaking around, and she hadn’t been completely honest.
In the end, all she could do was nod.
"Okay, Mom."
But as she retreated to her room later that night, her thoughts swirled.
How could she tell her mother that the boy she was seeing wasn’t just some ordinary guy, but Ross—the Ross—whose name alone could send a crowd screaming?
If her mother knew, she wouldn’t just be cautious; she’d lock Carrie inside the house.
And yet, Carrie also knew she couldn’t keep lying forever.
That night, Carrie texted Ross about what had happened with her mother and how she was being pushed to reveal who he was.
She typed everything honestly, her thumbs moving quickly across the screen, then stared at her phone as if his reply would pop up instantly.
Though she was already twenty years old, she still lived under her parents’ roof, still followed their rules, still asked for permission far too often.
A part of her hated how reliant she remained, how little freedom she had compared to some of her classmates who were already working part-time jobs and living in shared apartments.
"Maybe it’s time I found a place of my own," she muttered under her breath, staring at the dim glow of her phone.
The thought startled her. It wasn’t something she would normally even consider.
She had always been the type to stay close to home, close to her family, and especially close to her best friend.
That best friend had been her secret reason all these years—the girl she quietly loved but could never confess to.
Staying nearby had always meant keeping that thread of hope alive, no matter how faint.
But things were different now.
Ross had entered her life, and his presence had shifted everything.
She pulled up her banking app and scrolled through the numbers.
Ten thousand dollars—give or take. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Enough to get started.
With that, she could rent a small studio or share a place, then pick up part-time work to keep herself afloat.
Her classmates did it, so why couldn’t she?
The more she thought about it, the more the idea made sense. Moving out meant freedom.
No more lying about "group projects," no more sneaking home just before midnight.
She could come and go as she pleased, see Ross whenever she wanted, and start building a life that was truly her own.
Still, the thought scared her. Independence was alluring, but it also meant responsibility.
Bills. Rent. Balancing work with studies. And what would her parents think?
Would they be angry, disappointed? Would they see it as a betrayal?
Carrie hugged her knees to her chest, sitting in the quiet of her room.
For the first time, she realized how much Ross was changing her—not just her emotions, but the very way she thought about her future.
Before, she was a girl holding on to a hopeless love, content to stay in place.
Now, she was imagining steps forward, choices for herself.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. Ross had finally replied.
His reply was simple, but it struck Carrie like a bolt of lightning.
"I’ll be there. But how are you going to introduce me to your parents? Tell me, Carrie—am I your boyfriend now?"
Her lips parted as she stared at the message.
The words were straightforward, yet the meaning behind them made her chest tighten.
Boyfriend.
The word sounded heavier than she expected, like a label she had been waiting for but never dared to claim out loud.
Carrie held her phone for almost ten minutes, her fingers hovering above the keyboard, deleting and retyping over and over.
She thought about her mother’s sharp eyes, her father’s quiet authority, the questions they would ask.
She thought about Ross—the celebrity, the man who had captured her heart, the man with more wives than she could count.
Did she have the right to call him hers?
In the end, her heart won.
"Yes."
She whispered it as she pressed send, her voice trembling but her smile radiant.
It felt like stepping off a cliff and discovering she could fly.
Her phone rang almost immediately, Ross’s name flashing on the screen.
She answered without hesitation.
"Carrie," his voice came through, low and full of warmth. She could almost see his smile. "You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. You made my night."
Carrie giggled, her cheeks flushing. "You sound like you’re the one blushing, not me."
Ross chuckled, and the sound filled her with a giddy warmth.
They fell into conversation easily, their words flowing late into the night.
Sometimes it was teasing, sometimes it was serious, but the undercurrent of happiness never left.
Ross was genuinely excited, and that excitement was contagious.
Carrie found herself smiling so much her cheeks began to hurt.
She knew, of course, about his other wives.
The knowledge lingered in the back of her mind, but tonight it didn’t matter.
Ross was the first man who had made her feel wanted, the first to make her believe she could be someone’s first choice, even if only in his heart for a moment.
The first love was always the strongest, and Carrie clung to that feeling.
Even though her first love didn’t work out, her first boyfriend, Ross, she hoped would turn out to be everything she had ever wished for.
***
By the time the clock struck midnight, they had already made plans.
Ross would come to her city that weekend—not in disguise, not as a hidden lover, but openly.
He would meet her parents face-to-face.
When the call finally ended, Carrie lay in bed with her phone pressed against her chest, her mind racing.
She could hardly sleep.
Thoughts of Ross’s smile, the sound of his laughter, the way he called her name—all of it played in her head like a song she never wanted to end.