After Divorcing the Tycoon, I Married into a Wealthy Family Again Chapter 115: Memory Episode (15)

Florence Fuller was still worried that her issues might cause trouble for Abigail Monrose. Ethan Harper’s unexpected voice startled her.

She clutched her backpack tightly: "It’s nothing...it’s nothing."

Seeing her frightened by him and her pale complexion, Ethan reached out and touched her forehead.

The warmth of his palm on her forehead made Florence look up at him. The man’s unsurpassed handso face and gentle manner made her clutch her bag even tighter.

He definitely wasn’t any cripple.

Ethan had already recovered.

"Give the bag." Not realizing she was ill, Ethan reached for her bag.

Florence released her grip.

Ethan’s phone rang.

It was Abigail.

"Have you t up with Florence?"

"Yes, I just did." He stepped a few paces away: "What happened? She doesn’t look well."

Abigail sighed and explained: "I even asked the principal for the surveillance video. I’ll send it to you later."

Ethan understood: "Was it resolved?"

"It’s resolved," Abigail said. "Luckily, the Fuller Family didn’t find out, otherwise, Florence would have suffered again."

"I noticed she doesn’t seem to be in a good state." Ethan glanced back at Florence and saw her lips turned down, looking listless.

"Stay with her," Abigail suggested. "Alright, I have to get to class now. Bye."

Ethan walked over to Florence, who looked at him: "Was that Aunt Monrose? Did I cause trouble?"

"No, everything has been settled, don’t worry."

Hearing this, Florence breathed a sigh of relief.

She had been ready for Michael Fuller’s arrival and his anger, but who knew that Abigail ca instead.

Shielding her securely, reassuring her, not blaming her at all—just the thought of it made her want to cry.

"Let’s go ho," he said, taking Florence’s wrist. "Did you get hurt in the fight?"

"No." Florence shook her head, her eyes unfocused as she looked ahead: "I don’t really want to go back right now."

Ethan considered: "How about we go for a walk sowhere else?"

Florence glanced at him, and after a silent exchange, she averted her gaze: "Never mind, let’s just go back."

She walked to the car and opened the door.

Ethan stepped forward and grabbed her wrist: "Since we’re out, it would be a sha to just go back."

Florence: "..."

Ethan pulled her to his side, closed the car door, then knocked on the front window, gesturing for the driver to leave.

Florence watched the car drive away in bewildernt: "Where are we going?"

A smile appeared in Ethan’s eyes as he looked at Florence: "Wherever you want to go."

Florence dazedly followed him.

The two strolled slowly along the sidewalk, and Florence’s gaze repeatedly fell on his feet, her head lowered, seeming absent-minded.

She wondered whether to ask or not.

It was rare for Ethan to co out, and with her no less.

"Are you studying the road so intently?"

His gentle voice sounded above: "Or are you looking at my leg?"

Upon hearing this, Florence looked at him: "Are you really alright?"

Ethan replied: "You might not know, but I’ve recovered quite well."

Florence’s gaze once again lingered on him.

He wore a white casual sweater and black trousers. His tall, slender figure had her backpack slung over one shoulder. The handso face was adorned with a dazzling smile, and his shining star-like eyes were filled with infinite gentle indulgence.

A clean yet noble feeling.

Florence’s heart skipped a few beats excitedly. She averted her gaze and silently continued walking.

Ethan quickly caught up with her: "What’s up?"

"I’m hungry."

"I want seafood," she added.

Ethan looked around and spotted the subway sign: "How about we get a drink to tide us over, then have a al?"

Ten minutes later, carrying a cup of milk tea, Florence entered the subway station with Ethan.

Ethan had just found a seafood restaurant with good reviews online. He studied the route and went to buy tickets.

Judging by his deanor, Florence could tell it was his first ti taking the subway. She thought of ntioning that he could use his phone but swallowed her words, sipping her milk tea as they headed to the ticket machine.

Ethan pondered as he watched, and Florence nudged him aside, skillfully handling the transaction, then swallowed her milk tea: "Pay."

She finished speaking only to choke on the milk tea she hadn’t swallowed, coughing violently.

Ethan patted her back to help her catch her breath. Florence’s face turned red from coughing, and she didn’t want to drink the remaining half cup, handing it to Ethan as she caught her breath.

"Let’s go."

The subway wasn’t crowded; they had only a fifteen-minute journey.

After exiting the subway, Ethan casually tossed the milk tea cup into the trash. Florence glancing sideways, noticed that when the half-full cup was tossed, it was empty.

Florence: "...!"

When did he drink it?

"What’s wrong?" He paused, sensing her gaze: "Still want more? We can get another outside."

"Did you... finish it?"

Ethan nodded, candidly: "Yeah, it was pretty sweet."

Florence inexplicably recalled the kiss in the study that day.

She turned her gaze back, silently walking ahead.

The two reached the seafood restaurant smoothly and got a private room.

Florence quite liked eating shrimp, but she disliked peeling them.

When she was at the Shaw Family, Alia Linney and Henry Shaw would peel them for her. After returning to the Fuller Family, it had been a while since she had spicy stir-fried seafood. This ti she intended to peel and eat to her heart’s content.

But after peeling two shrimp, her enthusiasm wavered. She planned to ask the waiter to peel them, but they never ca in.

"Start with the fish." Ethan placed a clean small plate in front of her. The fish was in pieces, and Florence saw bones in the empty plate in front of him.

He had just deboned it.

Even in the Shaw Family, where she was doted on by the Shaw parents, she had never been served such thoroughly deboned fish.

Wasn’t this a bit much?

But as the deliciousness hit her tongue, Florence thought, who cares, eat first.

After finishing the fish, the shrimp at was placed in her bowl.

Florence was a bit flustered: "You... you eat too."

"I am eating."

Ethan smiled.

It was killing her.

Florence ate several more bites of rice.

"If you like shrimp, why not ntion it? The cook at ho can prepare it," Ethan said.

"They do sotis," Florence replied. "If you eat it all the ti, wouldn’t it beco boring?"

Ethan nodded in agreent.

After finishing the al, Florence felt a bit stuffed.

Ethan noticed and, after settling the bill, said, "Let’s take a walk to digest."

Florence nodded.

Different colored small flowers were planted in the sidewalks’ greenery, and a gentle breeze carried their fragrance.

The mory of the dinner celebrating Eleanor Lane surfaced in her mind.

In the next mont, failing to lift her foot, she tripped herself, and Ethan caught her securely in his arms.

She got a fright.

She hadn’t gotten hurt in the fight, but nearly tripped and fell over herself.