The young girl clutched tightly at Arnold’s white shirt, her voice holding a sobbing tone as she accused, "Have you started despising because I don’t have money now?"
Even the seasoned Second Young Master Simmons was taken aback by his sweet girl’s seemingly illogical accusations.
He didn’t quite grasp the aning.
Yet, his delay in reacting was mistaken by Hannah as silent acceptance. She pushed the man away, covering her mouth as she shook her head, "I knew it! You n only care about money. When it cos to everything else, you couldn’t care less."
As she bewailed, her eyes grew red and swollen, evoking pity. "What a waste of my heartfelt love."
Arnold pursed his lips, remaining silent for a while.
If he didn’t realize his sweet girl was putting on a show now, sothing was truly wrong.
Her accusations were insincere, but her tears were real.
Arnold lowered his gaze to his dear girl, "Stop crying, your makeup is smudging."
One sentence instantly stopped Hannah’s crying.
She frantically fumbled for the compact mirror she always carried, but couldn’t find it. Her actions grew more flustered as if a veil of mist had clouded her vision.
Helpless, Arnold sighed and restrained her, coaxing the girl he had upset, "You look pretty even with smudged makeup."
Hannah looked at him, sniffled, "Really?"
Arnold nodded, choosing to appease her with complints, "Of course. There is no one in the world more beautiful than you."
Perhaps "spoiled by complints" was a phrase tailor-made for Hannah.
Even if she could be willful and unreasonable most tis, her mood would always brighten up when told she was beautiful.
Indeed, even the proudest rabbit can be won over by a carrot.
Arnold reached out to wipe the tear-stains from her face, holding her hand, "Alright, let’s go for dinner now that you have stopped crying."
As Hannah followed Arnold, stepping on his shadow, she was having a ball. Her voice still held a hoarse tone from crying, yet it was uniquely soft, "Is it a candlelight dinner?"
Arnold squeezed her soft palm, affirming, "Yes."
Hannah was pleased and laughed through her previously shed tears. She got all clingy, tucking herself into Arnold’s embrace, "Mr. Simmons, you are so wonderful."
He gently moved her to the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt himself.
The car started, taking them far away from the coastline and the rry laughter on the beach. Just the gentle sea breeze remained, brushing against their faces, creating an intoxicating softness.
Hannah leaned on the car window, eyes closed, with her ssy hair dancing in the wind.
Arnold focused on the road ahead.
After a while, the girl’s sweet voice pierced through the cold wind, "Mr. Simmons, why were you upset when I called you earlier?"
She rembered that.
Arnold’s tie had long been disheveled by Hannah’s movents. He removed it completely, throwing it aside, revealing a strip of pale skin around his collar.
Without waiting for a response, Hannah turned her head again, "Mr. Simmons, did soone upset you?"
She seed determined to get to the bottom of it.
With his slender fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, Arnold’s expression remained unchanged.
The traffic light.
Without turning his head, the harsh red glow of the traffic light was reflected in his eyes, adding a touch of fierceness, "No."
Hannah cupped her cheek in one hand, while her other hand fiddled with Arnold’s white shirt, "You weren’t upset?"
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