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I Confessed to Him, Now He's My Boss Novel Cover

I Confessed to Him, Now He's My Boss

A decade ago, a high school confession ended in heartbreak when the boy I loved vanished without a trace. I eventually moved on, building a new life and relationship. However, fate intervenes ten years later when he reappears as my company's highest executive. Now reporting to the man who once abandoned me, I must navigate the professional world while managing old wounds. Facing my past feels impossible, making immediate resignation seem like my only path to peace.
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Chapter 2

Was he just making a drunken scene?

The stench of alcohol wafted from his mouth, and I leaned back in disgust, my brows knitting tightly. People who got drunk weren’t worth arguing with, and I was more concerned about my own safety.

Just as I was about to turn and walk away, a tall figure suddenly approached.

“Mr. Murray, it seems you’ve had quite a bit to drink. It’s best not to drive,” Edward said with a polite smile. He still wore that gentle, considerate demeanor, but his tone carried an undeniable firmness. “Let me arrange for two designated drivers. Miss White, I’ll take you home since it’s on my way.”

He turned to me, his expression and actions remaining polite and courteous. “Miss White, would that be all right with you?”

The moment he got close, I instinctively tensed up. His scent—distinctly masculine—was more assertive than I remembered from high school.

Being caught in this situation by him left me feeling awkward, and the close proximity made me uneasy.

But I knew better than to let pride get in the way of what was best for me. Smiling politely, I nodded. “Then let’s do as you suggest, Mr. Scott. Sorry to trouble you.”

It was obvious Liam was acting out under the pretense of being drunk. The moment Edward arrived, his demeanor shifted entirely. His expression changed in an instant, seamlessly replaced by a polished, ingratiating smile.

“You’re right, Mr. Scott.”

He bowed his head humbly, his expression filled with flattery, as though the man who’d been making a drunken scene moments ago wasn’t him.

Before stepping away, he turned to me with a meaningful look. “Yuna, make sure you send me a message when you get home.”

Suppressing my disgust, I nodded. “Of course.”

With the designated driver taking over, both Edward and I sat in the backseat. After confirming my address, the car settled into an awkward silence.

In the confined space, no matter how much we tried to maintain a respectful distance, it was impossible to avoid the tension.

I turned to the window, pretending to be engrossed in the streetlights and scenery outside, though my mind drifted to the past.

I met Edward in high school.

Unlike the other boys who thrived on attention during those years, he was so quiet he could have been invisible.

However, thanks to his outstanding looks and top-ranking grades, Edward still managed to attract plenty of attention from the girls in our grade.

At that time, I wasn’t interested in him at all. I was too preoccupied with my own academic struggles to care about anything else.

Later, when there was a chance to switch seats, I had a sudden idea and ran to our homeroom teacher to request to sit next to Edward.

And that was how I ended up being Edward’s deskmate for three years.

After spending time with him, I realized his personality wasn’t as introverted as I had imagined. On the contrary, he was even a bit outgoing.

But between the pressures of high school and his family circumstances, he spent most of his free time working part-time jobs to earn money. With little opportunity to socialize, he didn’t have many friends.

When I entered his life, I naturally became his only friend.

We studied together, ate together, and eventually talked about everything.

A handsome teenage boy with top grades and a close bond with me—it was inevitable that my feelings for him would grow over time.

What’s more, as his only friend, I liked to think I held a special place in his heart.

So, after the college entrance exams, I confessed my feelings to him.

I was lost in these thoughts when the car suddenly came to an abrupt stop. The jolt threw me off balance, and I was tossed sideways.

Instinctively, I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, but instead, I felt something warm and soft cushion my forehead.

It was Edward’s palm.

Startled, I quickly pulled back, still trying to process what had happened, when the designated driver spoke with surprise.

“Sir, I’m so sorry. A cat suddenly darted out in front of us.”

We got out to check, and sure enough, there was a tabby cat in the middle of the road.

Its front left paw had been pierced by a nail and was bleeding. It was so thin that its bones were visible beneath its soaked fur, but its belly was swollen, indicating it was pregnant.

The rain falling on its frail body made the poor creature look even more pitiful.

Fortunately, the car hadn’t hit the tabby. It let out a low, warning growl and bared its teeth at us as if trying to intimidate us into leaving.

It seemed to want to escape, but it was too injured and starved to move much, resorting instead to feeble attempts to scare us off.

A pang of sadness welled up in my chest. I wanted to help, but faced with its defensive posture, I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

I glanced at Edward and noticed his expression had turned serious.

“Step back a bit,” he said to me.

Then, in the next moment, he lunged forward, catching the tabby with swift precision.

That was when I noticed he had removed his suit jacket at some point. Now, the expensive fabric was wrapped around the struggling cat, rendering the jacket completely unwearable.

“Yuna, check if there are any nearby pet clinics still open,” he instructed before turning to the driver. “I’ll compensate you for the trouble later.”

About half an hour later, we arrived at a pet clinic. Though it had been closed, the power of money persuaded the owner to come over and open it for us.

By then, the tabby seemed to have realized we meant no harm. It lay quietly, waiting for treatment.

Edward, who had just finished arranging things with the driver, walked into the clinic. I was about to say something to him when my eyes fell on his arm. A large patch of red had seeped through his sleeve. It was obvious he was hurt.

“Your hand…” I blurted instinctively, stepping closer.

As I moved toward him, he looked up at the same time, and at that moment, my forehead brushed against something soft.

I froze, my eyes widening as I realized what it was.

His lips.

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