Julian Ford’s dark eyes deepened.
A father knows his son best.
Ezra Ford saw the answer he wanted in Julian Ford’s eyes.
"You are the son I’ve raised single-handedly, sharing the sa blood with ; how could you possibly be a hopeless romantic? When all is said and done, Scarlett Shaw is just an excuse you use to rebel against the family’s arrangents over the years, isn’t she?"
A desperate dog will bite its owner.
Not to ntion humans.
Upon realizing this was the real reason Julian Ford was so firmly against them, Ezra Ford suddenly felt relieved and stopped talking.
He walked to the door, and as he opened the door handle, he said with a aningful smile, "As expected from my son, knowing how to use everything available."
The conversation at this stage was more of a ga rather than an argunt between father and son.
Ezra Ford’s resolute assertion did not cause Julian Ford’s expression to change a bit; he rely cast a glance at his father and stepped into the adjacent Freya Pierce’s ward.
Stayed there all night.
In the middle of the night, Scarlett Shaw sent a ssage asking how Freya Pierce was doing; Julian Ford replied saying no problem, his fingers stayed on the phone keypad for a mont, and added:
-About what happened during the day, it was my oversight, sorry.
Scarlett Shaw replied with a cute hugging emoji.
An indescribable force sprouted montarily from the barren depths of his heart and took root firmly within.
Julian Ford looked down at the phone, and his deep black eyes gradually beca gentle.
...
Freya Pierce woke up the next day; her body was very weak, but her emotions remained unstable. She clutched Julian Ford tightly, not letting him leave even half a step.
Julian Ford accompanied his mother until the nurse ca to administer a sedative; only after she fell asleep did he leave the hospital.
The night was as thick as ink.
The pattering rain remained sticky, dripping from the eaves and splashing small, yet unsettling drops on the concrete ground.
The black umbrella in Julian Ford’s hand opened, its lines stretching from bottom to top, forming a curve in the rain.
While the umbrella stopped overhead, Scarlett Shaw, holding a transparent umbrella, stood alone at the street corner not far away, fixedly watching him.
Before he could step forward, she unhesitantly ran toward him.
As in all those past monts, seemingly he was initiating, but in the background of their relationship, Scarlett Shaw had unknowingly taken ninety-nine steps toward him over a hundred-step distance.
[When all is said and done, Scarlett Shaw is just an excuse you use to rebel against the family’s arrangents over the years.]
As Ezra Ford’s words flashed through his mind, Julian Ford was tightly embraced by Scarlett Shaw.
The transparent umbrella fell to the ground, stirring up splashes.
The rain remained sticky and soaking, yet it seed less stifling.
She held him as if holding the world’s most precious treasure, cautiously yet full of love.
The black umbrella inclined forward, Julian Ford’s gaze landed on the faintly exposed white bandage under her trench coat sleeve.
He caused the wound there himself.
Holding the umbrella with his right hand, his left hand slowly lifted from his side.
Paused for a few seconds.
Eventually, he gently embraced her waist.
"Does the wound still hurt?" Julian Ford’s hand withdrew from Scarlett Shaw’s waist, landed on her shoulder, and after pulling back to create so distance, he asked.
Scarlett Shaw held onto his arm, her palm lightly rubbed against his wound through the fabric, "It doesn’t hurt. Although you’re obviously hurt worse than , I heard from the doctor that you just muddled through and left."
Julian Ford took her hand, "My mother was suddenly sent to the hospital; I was in a hurry to get over there."
Scarlett Shaw asked with concern, "How is she now?"
"It’s nothing serious; she just needs rest."
Scarlett Shaw pursed her lips, tightened her grip on his hand.
Julian Ford noticed the anxiety in her eyes, the slight moisture seeping from her palm, another sign of nervousness.
He thought for a mont and said, "Don’t worry, she won’t be in any danger."
What Scarlett Shaw was most worried and anxious about was actually how to broach the subject of urging Julian Ford to get imdiate treatnt.
This matter, like the scar on Julian Ford’s hand, was a wound he didn’t want touched, and once it was brazenly put on the table, she didn’t know what would beco of them.
Scarlett Shaw lifted her eyes, looking at Julian Ford’s cold, upright side profile, and uttered, "Today, Rhonda drove here. You should co with and stay at my place tonight?"
Both of their hands were injured, so naturally, neither of them could drive.
Anyway, get him to stay.
Then to find an opportunity to talk.
On the way ho, both harbored their own thoughts.
After entering the house, Julian Ford voluntarily lightly pulled Scarlett Shaw’s wrist, saying, "Did you stay up all night? It’s so late, and you still sent a ssage."
Scarlett Shaw touched her nose, "You weren’t asleep either."
Julian Ford’s brows and eyes deeply lowered, he gently kissed her lips, like a feather drop, brief yet tender.
However, tenderness is always distant.
Symbolizing an illusory dream.
Scarlett Shaw’s inherently uneasy heart did not calm because of this kiss; rather, it beca even more frantic.
"Scarlett."
Julian Ford suddenly called her na, his dark eyes gazing at her, seriously asked:
"Is there anything in particular you want to do, or especially want to have? No matter what, I can help you achieve it."
Scarlett Shaw’s heart trembled, she instinctively grasped his hand tightly, as if by doing so she wouldn’t lose him.
"What I want most now is to never be separated from you; just promise that, no matter what happens, let stay by your side."
"Aside from that?"
Julian Ford did not imdiately agree with her.
Looking down at her, his pupils were profound, carrying a calmness that made Scarlett Shaw even more restless.
"Before you knew , you always had dreams you wanted to fulfill, places you wanted to visit, things you wanted to do."
The calr Julian Ford acted, the deeper the sadness that clenched Scarlett Shaw’s heart beca.
She knew he was using the best ans possible to keep her from feeling sad.
But how could she do that, face the issues of life and death with the detachnt he had?
Not only could she not, his indifference even beca a catalyst for her agitated emotions; she grew increasingly unable to control her trembling, her eyes turned red, colored by domineering anger as she questioned:
"Are you planning to break up with ?"
Neither she nor he were people who took relationships lightly; the word breakup was too sensitive and should not be brought up at such a sensitive mont.
Yet Scarlett Shaw still couldn’t help it.
All the self-consolation such as calmly talking things through, considering matters from his perspective, as long as he could undergo proper treatnt, anything would be fine—all were nonsense.
She wanted to keep him by her side; no matter the reason, she didn’t want to let him go.
Scarlett Shaw’s mind had only this single thought left.
Not because of so great reason that despite encountering difficulties, they must persevere together.
It was simply because she didn’t want to lose him now.
Because she would feel terrible.
Julian Ford looked down at Scarlett Shaw’s reddening eyes, while his heart ached, rationality still occupied the greater part.
In her gradually moist gaze, he broke through that layer of tension with the calst tone:
"Now that you know about my illness, you should also realize, parting is inevitable, maybe not today, but eventually."
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