"It's fine. If we're seen together, it might as well be official," he replied.
Gathering my things, I balanced the bag in one hand and leaned on my crutch with the other.
"No need, I've already arranged for a ride," I insisted.
He remained silent but took the bag from me.
"I'll walk you to the car," he said.
I wanted to refuse, but seeing his somber expression, I swallowed my objection.
What was the point of arguing over trivial matters when we were about to part ways?
As we approached the car, the driver, noticing my condition, courteously stepped out and opened the door for me.
"Is this your boyfriend, miss? He seems really caring," the driver remarked.
I smiled at the driver's assumption.
"We're just neighbors. He's lending a hand out of kindness," I clarified.
Chandler froze, staring at me in disbelief.
He always said to keep a low profile when in public.
There was a lot of work to be done, especially the front-line experimental data - a headache.
I worked day and night in the laboratory and slept in the company dormitory at night.
Time passed quickly as I was immersed in the ocean of data, with no time to pay attention to the outside world.