The study door was knocked.
She looked up and saw Christopher co in.
"The surveillance from the garage and the recorder from your car have all been taken care of. I’ve directly handed them over to the police. It’s most appropriate for the police to clarify the rumors and publish the truth." Christopher’s low and captivating voice slowly said as he wheeled towards the desk.
——This also saves her from being attacked by those trolls and haters again.
Alia nodded, sowhat unconvinced, and said, "You, Mr. Hart, have quite the influence. There’s nothing that can stump you."
"Did I hear that right? In this lifeti, I actually got praised by soone. I could die without regrets now." He smiled roguishly, his tone laced with mockery.
The woman rolled her eyes at him, her gaze returning to her phone, only to suddenly find sothing that made her frown.
"This reply... Why do I feel it’s kind of strange?" She turned the phone towards him, the screen paused on the book review section. There was a comnt flaring with praise for the male protagonist, and the reply below read: "Exactly right! You understand the male protagonist even better than the author!"
Christopher glanced at it, appearing unfazed, "Is that so? What’s strange about it?"
Alia looked at his expression, suddenly reached out, and snatched the phone from his palm, simultaneously getting up to walk around the other side of the desk.
"What are you doing!" Christopher, sitting in the wheelchair, couldn’t act quickly and could only watch helplessly.
"Just verifying my suspicion!"
The unlock password for his phone was her own birthday. Alia easily unlocked it, found the app, and upon entering, saw his ID account—indeed it was the account that had replied to the comnt.
"Christopher, you’re... you’ve truly made see you in a new light!" Alia was shocked, her beautiful eyes nearly popping out.
As she scrolled down through the comnts, she was even more moved to laughter, unable to hold back her amusent.
Soone had liked all the comnts praising him and begging to get back together and had replied to quite a few—while also fiercely rebutting all the comnts calling him a jerk.
Mr. Hart couldn’t maintain his composure, reaching out with a somber face, ordering, "Give back the phone! I deserve at least so privacy. Is it polite of you to look at my phone without permission?!"
Alia wasn’t afraid of him at all, continuing to scroll while teasing, "You must be really bored, huh? Shall I tell Young Master Palr to send so work your way tomorrow?"
"..." Mr. Hart was speechless.
Are there really won like this in the world?
He thought about nothing but how to treat her well every day, how to pamper her and love her—yet she only thought about how to make his life difficult!
He must have been out of his mind, falling for such a carefree and heartless woman.
Seeing he didn’t respond, Alia was content, scrolling down several more pages, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she read.
"Christopher, do you have dissociative identity disorder? How could these words co from you?"
"Actually, the author’s description isn’t precise enough; the male protagonist’s prototype is even more handso than this..."
"The male protagonist is the one who loves the female lead the most in the world, with no exception..."
"Male—hey what are you doing? I haven’t finished reading yet!" She was reading aloud line by line from the screen, not expecting Christopher to co forward and snatch the phone.
On looking at that face again, usually cold and arrogant beyond belief, it was now red as a monkey’s bottom.
Alia suddenly felt cheerful, no longer bothered by being publicly exposed and slandered online. She seriously looked at him, curiously asking, "What was your mindset at the ti—thinking of finding a writer to write down our story?"
Soone coldly replied, "I lost my mory. I don’t rember. Probably had a brain short-circuit at the ti."
Ignoring him, she continued, "Lucas King said you wanted to clarify those online rumors, directing the focus to yourself. Actually, those things are in the past, and I haven’t really cared much. They’re insignificant people. Why should I care about their opinions?"
Soone lifted his gaze, "You an, I was being overly sentintal?"
Indeed, it felt that way.
However, while Alia thought this way, she dared not say it out loud, seeing his ominous face threatening to unleash hail.
So, upon her conscience, the woman sincerely said, "It’s not being overly sentintal but rather foresighted—you see, now all the netizens have changed their views about . They all sympathize with my background and experience, believing in my character and morality, and voluntarily speaking up for . This is all thanks to you."
Christopher pursed his lips, pulled her hand, drawing her closer, "So, does that an you should thank ?"
Knowing what he was about to say next, the woman played along, "So how do you want to thank you?"
He lifted his gaze, with a half-smile, and the atmosphere around them suddenly changed, "What do you think? You’re so smart, don’t you know what I’m thinking?"
"No matter how smart I am, I’m not a worm in your stomach." She responded wittily, raised her wrist to check her watch, and suddenly exclaid, "Oh, it’s already past nine! I should be going back! Last night you said it was too much for to enjoy alone and leave the kids with you—so tonight I’ll take the kids with . Tomorrow, you can have Fuller and Aunt Harper pick them up from preschool."
"Alia!" He suddenly grabbed her hand tightly.
"What?"
"..." The man glared at her, his handso face gloomy.
This woman, when did she beco so mischievous?
She knew he wanted her to stay the night, yet she deliberately said these annoying things!
"If you leave tonight, then don’t co back ever again." Mr. Hart, too, had his pride.
He had taken the initiative ti and again, shalessly tossing aside all pride and respect, and this is what he got?
He was already quite annoyed about her teasing him over replying to book reviews, but he had to endure it and pretend not to care.
Now she was adding fuel to the fire!
After dropping this, seeing the woman remain silent, he slightly lifted his gaze to give her a sidelong glance, deliberately provoking, "Leave, why aren’t you leaving?"
She pressed her lips together, her expression frozen, and muttered, "I’ll go check if the kids are asleep." She stomped off, bypassing him.
Mr. Hart’s face suddenly blossod into a smile, his heart filled with warmth.
This little bickering and mutual teasing seed to return them to a state where they were ambiguously close but not quite lovers, sothing that he found nostalgic.
To be exact, though they had been childhood sweethearts growing up together without any reservations, they never actually dated, nor had they experienced a fiery, inseparable love.
Back in the day, when they confird their feelings, they were young and prioritized their studies.
Even the occasional "dates" were really them studying and reading together. Rarely did he muster the courage to hold her hand or steal a kiss.
Even then, such kisses were restrained and reverent, barely more than lips touching, lingering for no more than three seconds.
They assud they had a long future, plenty of ti for passionate love, but who knew those events would happen before they could experience it.
Their relationship quickly plunged to a freezing point.
Later, Grandpa took charge, and they were forced to marry, entering straight into a marital status.
During that ti, their relationship had already broken down, so although they were the closest of spouses, they spent the whole day in almost complete silence.
Eventually, either due to day-to-day interactions or daily intimate contact, he gradually forgot those cracks caused by past events and more than once wanted to talk to her, to start anew, to truly beco husband and wife.
Yet she would, now and then, ntion the three-year agreent, always counting the days, eager to break free.
He thought Alia had already lost all feelings for him, so he felt that holding on stubbornly would be pointless.
When the three years were up, she proactively filed for divorce, confirming his belief that this woman had completely let go of him and had enough of him.
In a fit of pique, he agreed to the divorce, thinking that no one in this world couldn’t live without soone else.
But when the divorce was finalized and she disappeared completely from his world, he only then realized how foolish it was to pretend to be magnanimous. He regretted it, felt sad, pain, and sorrow, while also harboring hatred.
He hated her for appearing so gentle and amiable yet having such a ruthless heart, able to cast aside so many years of feelings and end a three-year marriage so cleanly and decisively.
As love and hate intertwined, he began to punish himself.
Despite yearning for her deeply, he refused to seek her out; though his heart had room for no one but her, he passively consented to his family arranging for Lily Garcia to stay by his side.
Until over six months later, news of her death ca.
He felt like the sky had fallen.
Christopher sat in his wheelchair, his mind inexplicably sinking into a void, and suddenly, he felt a splitting headache, couldn’t help but raise his hand and tapped his head.
But that pain intensified, so intense that it made him dizzy, and he began to hear things.
"Brother Christopher, I said it wasn’t . If you don’t believe , I can’t help it..."
"I didn’t think even you wouldn’t believe ..."
"Fine! If you say it was, then it was who pushed her into the sea, okay? She was so annoying, always targeting . I hated her to death!"
"The three-year marriage has ended, let’s divorce..."
"Christopher, your ex-wife is dead. She left behind a daughter for you. If you still have any regard for your past relationship, raise the child well..."
"Daddy, daddy, where’s my mommy? Why do other kids have mommies, but I don’t? I want a mommy too. Hurry, make a mommy..."
Many voices filled his ears, like a scrambled television continuously switching channels; the words and scenes surged toward him like a tide.
"Daddy, mommy said she’ll stay tonight... Daddy, daddy, what’s wrong? Mommy, co quickly! Daddy is sick! Wahh, daddy, what’s wrong with you?"
Hope ran into the study, intending to tell her father that mommy was staying to sleep with her tonight. But upon entering, she saw her dad sitting in the wheelchair, hitting his own head fiercely with his hands.
Hope was terrified and imdiately started crying and shouting.
The next second, Alia burst through the door.
Seeing him in this state, she too was frightened, quickly grabbing his arm and calling out worriedly, "Christopher... Christopher, what’s wrong? Does your head hurt? Don’t do that; you’ll hurt yourself!"
The doctor had previously said that his injuries from falling were too severe. Even though a miracle allowed him to survive, there would be many aftereffects.
For instance, headaches, insomnia, or other bodily discomforts.
Over this period, he had suffered a few headaches, but dication had always provided relief.
Yet today...
"Hope, quickly go and get Aunt Harper to bring the dicine, the ones for daddy!"
"Alright, alright..." The little girl turned and ran.
Alia looked at him, seeing his face contorted with pain, she simply hugged his head tightly to her chest, soothing endlessly, "It’s okay, Hope went to get the dicine, you’ll feel better after taking it."
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