Harry Hall heard this, and his heart sank. Just as he was about to comfort her, he heard her continue:
"I guess God must have gathered all the good fortune of this lifeti to et a wonderful man like you, which is why I used up all my luck."
Listening to her unabashed praise, Harry felt both happy and pained, with a lump in his throat.
"From now on, I’ll make sure you have good luck every day."
He held her hand, looked at her with firm eyes, and said seriously.
Helen lendy nodded and said:
"Why not let win five million first."
Harry was amused by her, raised his hand, and gently poked her forehead, saying:
"Why such low ambitions? Can’t you set your sights higher?"
"Start with a small goal, then win a hundred million next ti."
"Sure."
Harry looked at her with eyes full of gentleness and softly agreed, saying, "Sure."
"So, how is it? Have you chosen your wedding dress? Which one do you like?"
Helen pointed at a few wedding dresses she had tried on earlier and said:
"These all look good, which one do you like?"
Harry enjoyed being part of the decision and, hearing her ask, glanced at the dresses and then at Helen, saying earnestly:
"As long as you wear it, I like it."
Suddenly filled with sweet talk, Helen couldn’t help but "blush," holding back a smile, lightly coughed twice, and said:
"I suspect when you were in school, that introverted persona was all an act."
Harry lowered his gaze, feigned a deep silence for a mont, then said:
"Not really."
He suddenly leaned in and, before Helen could react, quickly kissed her lips and then withdrew.
Helen was briefly stunned, then blushed even more deeply. In her feigned angry stare, she heard Harry say:
"I’m reserved in front of others, only playful in front of you."
Helen: "..."
Alright, she misjudged this man. He’s truly playful.
She gave him a sideways glance of pretend annoyance, gently pushed him, "Smooth talker."
Harry quietly accepted his wife’s assessnt and then heard Helen say:
"Ask the staff to help change out of the wedding dress."
"Let help you."
"No need."
Just imagining the scene of him helping her change out of the wedding dress, Helen’s ears began to heat up.
"Go get the staff quickly."
She gently pushed Harry again, urging him with reddened ears.
Harry sighed, still reluctantly got up to call a staff mber.
Watching Harry’s departing figure, Helen’s eyes were filled with laughter.
Suddenly, she realized that even if she forgot everything from her past with him, this naturally close feeling didn’t feel awkward, rather it felt sweet.
Her gaze shifted from Harry, unintentively past the floor-to-ceiling window, when a familiar yet unfamiliar face flashed in front of her, making her pause.
Looking back again, that person was already gone.
Helen recalled the face just now, confident that she had seen it sowhere, but couldn’t rember where.
Perhaps she knew this person before the amnesia, but why couldn’t she rember anyone, yet have such an impression of this face?
Suddenly, a distant and blurry scene flashed across her mind —
Harry sitting in a café with a long-haired woman, the woman holding a napkin wiping his mouth, the two were talking and laughing, and Harry even reached out and held her hand...
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