Dating the Bossy CEO Next Door
Chapter 38- Break up

Chapter 38: Chapter 38- Break up

Morrison eventually drove Lilian to a seaside plaza, one of the few designated spots for firework displays.

Lilian had assumed that it would be deserted at this hour of the night, but to her surprise, the place was buzzing with life—grandparents with their grandchildren, couples young and old, families huddled close, all wearing joyful smiles under the winter sky.

They found a quieter corner off to the side.

Morrison popped open the trunk and began unloading an impressive stash of fireworks.

Curious, Lilian peeked over his shoulder and began inspecting the various shapes and colors of the fireworks he’d bought.

She couldn’t help but ask,

"What made you think to buy all these?"

Morrison glanced at her, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

"When your girlfriend is basically a kid, you have to plan accordingly."

Lilian puffed her cheeks in protest.

"Hmph, you make it sound like I’m twelve."

But her heart was warm.

Truth be told, she hadn’t had many chances like this.

Back home, her family was always cautious—fireworks were deemed dangerous, especially for girls.

Dave had zero interest in "childish" things like that.

No matter how much she begged or pouted, he would never give in.

Dangerous, pointless, he’d say.

And now, standing here in the winter chill, watching Morrison light the fuses with steady hands,

Lilian felt a small piece of her younger self be healed—something Dave never did for her, Morrison had done without even needing to be asked.

Fireworks bloomed, one after another.

She stood back and watched, a soft smile playing on her lips.

He looked almost silly, this grown man lighting up the sky like a teenage boy—but to her, it was the sweetest sight in the world.

Morrison saved the biggest, most dazzling one for last.

When it burst into brilliant light overhead, Lilian gasped and instinctively ran into his arms.

He pulled her close, holding her tightly as they tilted their heads up together, watching the night sky come alive in a thousand sparks.

Overwhelmed by the moment, Lilian turned in his arms and looped her hands around Morrison’s neck, pressing her lips against his in a sudden, tender kiss.

He responded without hesitation, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her back with deep, unrestrained warmth.

With her eyes closed, lost in the kiss, a quiet thought emerged in Lilian’s mind— _{f.re(e) w.e(b)nov el.c.om}

It’s time to end this.

She had tasted the many flavors of love.

Sweet, thrilling, all-consuming.

She had no regrets.

But if she went any further, she would lose her heart—completely.

And that was something she must never allow.

To fall in love with a man like him—a notorious playboy—would only bring her pain in the end.

She wasn’t naïve.

Though her heart was simple, she understood clearly:

A man like Morrison was poison.

The kind that tasted like honey going down, and left nothing but ruin behind.

Now she finally understood why Morrison was the unshakable fantasy of so many women in Burg Eltz.

Why none of his exes had ever spoken a single bad word about him.

Because when he loved, even if only briefly, he loved with everything he had.

And when he loved you, there was simply no room for blame.

He made you feel like the only one in the world.

That was both his gift—and his curse.

Since she’d snuck out tonight, they didn’t stay long.

After the last spark of their own fireworks faded, they lingered a while watching others light up the sky.

Then he drove her back.

Morrison watched her small figure dash up the stairs to her building, bundled up tight, cheeks still glowing from the cold and the kiss.

His heart softened as he smiled to himself, completely unaware that she was already planning their goodbye.

Back in her room, Lilian tiptoed inside and slipped beneath the covers, wide awake.

There was no sleep in her tonight.

Only the echo of his kiss—and the quiet ache of her resolve.

Snuggled under the warm blanket, Lilian pulled out her phone and opened Twitter. She scrolled through her past posts—mostly memories of moments with Morrison. On social media, she always called him "Mr. M," using the first letter of his last name.

After reading through her timeline, she closed her eyes for a moment, calming her emotions. Then, carefully, she typed a new tweet:

"Fireworks are beautiful, but fleeting—just like love. I only wanted to taste it once. Now, with no regrets, it’s time to let go."

She hit send and felt a pang of sadness in her chest.

But then she thought, He probably doesn’t care. He’s too free-spirited to be bothered by a breakup. So why should I be the one hurting?

It was New Year’s Eve—the perfect time to say goodbye to the past and start fresh.

With that decision in mind, the following days became awkward. Lilian found herself distracted whenever she was with Morrison, sometimes distant and uneasy. She’d planned to break up with him right after the holidays, but with everyone so busy at work, and it still being the festive season, it felt like a bad time to stir trouble.

So she postponed.

Weeks passed. The early January rush faded away, and both of them got caught up in their hectic schedules—especially Morrison, who was tied up with after-work parties and networking dinners most nights.

One evening, Lilian finally mustered the courage to call him.

"Hey, do you have time for dinner tonight?" she asked.

To her surprise, Morrison had just cleared his calendar and was actually hoping to ask her out. He smiled on the phone. "Yeah, I’m free. I was actually thinking of asking you."

They agreed to meet at a restaurant—not at his place. Lilian knew better than to ask him to cook these days; he was way too busy, and it wouldn’t have been smart.

But this dinner wasn’t about catching up—it was about ending things.

Throughout the meal, Lilian barely touched her food.

Morrison raised an eyebrow. "Not hungry? Didn’t like anything?"

Lilian stiffened but forced a laugh. "I’m trying to lose some weight... ate way too much during the holidays."

Morrison glanced down subtly, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Lose weight? If you get any thinner, there won’t be anything left where it counts."

Lilian instinctively covered her chest, blushing as she shot him a sharp glare. He always said things like that—totally shameless.

Still, she ate a little, since Morrison kept pushing food onto her plate, insisting she eat.

After they finally finished and she felt full, Lilian hesitated but then blurted out,

"Um... I..."

She just couldn’t get the words out. When she first came to him to learn how to date, she didn’t know where her courage came from. But now, saying it was over? That felt impossible.

"What is it?" Morrison leaned back lazily, looking at her. Lately, she seemed to get more and more beautiful.

"We should break up."

Those words hit Morrison like a punch. Just when he was thinking maybe he’d finally introduce her to his family like Linda wanted, she dropped this bombshell, and he was stunned, convinced he’d misheard.

He’d said "break up" plenty of times before—but never heard it from anyone else directed at him.

For a moment, he was shocked and furious—angry and humiliated.

When he finally snapped back, his eyes narrowed and he glared at her coldly.

"Say that again."

Once the first words were out, the rest were easier for Lilian. She met his fierce gaze head-on.

"I said, we should break up. I think I’ve learned enough about love now. I don’t need to keep learning."

Her reason made sense—she originally came to him to learn about relationships, and now she felt her lesson was complete.

But Morrison just felt anger boiling over. He wanted to strangle her with his own hands.

That fury wasn’t just about being blindsided with the breakup or his bruised ego—it was tangled with confusion and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Was it reluctance? Was it regret?

But after the battle inside him, his pride won out. No matter how mad or hurt he felt, he masked it with a calm, indifferent front.

He picked up his half-finished glass of red wine, took a sip to steady himself, then narrowed his eyes and asked again,

"You’re sure about this?"

The moment he said it, he hated himself. Why was he asking again? Once she said "break up," he should’ve just stood up coolly and said,

"Fine. Break up it is. Don’t come crawling back, Lilian."

"Yeah."

Facing his questioning, Lilian nodded firmly, her expression innocent and harmless.

"I’ve learned enough in these six months, Mr. Morrison. Thank you for giving me the feeling of love. But I can’t hold you back any longer. You deserve to start a real relationship—one where you can talk about marriage and the future."

She spoke as if breaking up was for his own good, and that only fueled the fire burning in Morrison’s chest.

Before he could say anything more, his phone rang. It was news that Dave had been stabbed by Clark while shopping with Laurent and was now being rushed to the hospital.

The young woman who had just been talking about breaking up went pale in an instant, frozen in place, unable to move.

Morrison was the first to snap back to reality. Grabbing their things, he took her hand and headed for the door.

"Let’s go. To the hospital—now."