Thinking about being dead drunk and being taken back to her old ho by Tristan Lockwood.
Claire Hale couldn’t help but feel complicated emotions.
When she got up and dressed, she habitually opened the wardrobe to look for clothes, and was stunned to see not only her old clothes but also a lot of n’s suits inside.
In the past, she used to live alone in this room, so everything inside belonged solely to her.
Tristan Lockwood’s clothes were never supposed to appear here.
Could it be that after their divorce, he moved into this bedroom?
The decor and arrangent of the bedroom were almost identical to how it was before she left, even the small ornants on the bedside table were the style she loved.
It seed like nothing had changed.
But everything, indeed, was no longer the sa.
After Claire Hale finished washing up, she went down to the first floor and saw Tristan Lockwood’s assistant coming out of the kitchen.
He was carrying a prepared breakfast.
Seeing her, the assistant smiled and said, "Madam, you’re awake. Mr. Lockwood specially prepared breakfast for you this morning. Would you like to try it?"
Claire Hale was taken aback, "He cooked breakfast?"
"Yes, indeed. Mr. Lockwood had surgery to rush to the hospital for, otherwise he would definitely have breakfast with you."
The assistant placed the tableware in front of her, looking like he wanted to say more.
Claire Hale asked, "What else do you want to say?"
Assistant: "Madam, about the matter between you and Mr. Lockwood, it’s really not my place to speak. But the incident at your firm last ti was truly not Mr. Lockwood’s doing. He’s been extrely busy with surgeries back to back, without even a mont to breathe, let alone ti to deal with sothing like that."
The assistant stopped there.
In truth, he hadn’t finished, and that was since getting divorced from Claire Hale, Tristan Lockwood had beco even more quiet and reticent than before.
Every day after finishing at the hospital, he’d go straight ho, seldom attending social events.
Claire Hale lowered her gaze to the sandwich on her plate and said, "I misunderstood him. I’ll find a chance to apologize to him. But for now, you don’t need to call Madam, you should know I’m divorced from Tristan Lockwood."
"Yes, Mrs..."
Claire Hale gave him a cool glance.
The assistant imdiately corrected himself, "Okay, Miss Hale."
He couldn’t help but sigh inside, thinking Mr. Lockwood didn’t actually mind him calling her Madam.
The assistant paused, then said in a lower voice, "Although Mr. Lockwood has been busy these past few days, he still specifically instructed to sort out those connections for you. I checked, and it appears to have been Miss Quinn causing trouble."
Hearing Luna Quinn’s na, Claire Hale wasn’t really surprised but was sowhat taken aback.
When at the hot springs last ti, Luna was already quite hostile towards her, but Claire Hale didn’t expect this hostility to escalate to such an extent, even dragging Dean Dawson out just to make things difficult for her.
"And last night, Mr. Lockwood was actually in the middle of a business deal with a very important client, but he left the client for you."
The assistant added this, though there was a bit of exaggeration.
Last night, although Tristan Lockwood did leave first, that dinner was nearing its end, and both parties had already talked quite well. He even sent so compensation gifts early this morning, clearly showing sincerity.
Claire Hale’s eyes flickered, but she gave no response.
After breakfast, she left the villa.
When she was leaving, the assistant ntioned one more thing: "Since you left, Mr. Lockwood has been sleeping in your original bedroom."
Claire Hale didn’t know how to respond, said nothing, and drove away.
In the car, she sent a ssage to Tristan Lockwood, apologizing for the previous misunderstanding and thanking him for his later help.
Tristan Lockwood called her directly.
"Sobered up?" His cold voice ca through the phone, "Does your head still hurt?"
"No, it doesn’t hurt."
"Really doesn’t hurt?"
Claire Hale paused, as the hangover headache hadn’t completely faded, but she’s accustod to keeping such discomfort to herself.
"Thanks for what you did yesterday," she said, "and sorry for the earlier misunderstanding."
"You already told those words yesterday," Tristan Lockwood paused before continuing, "and quite sincerely, too."
Claire Hale was startled, having no mory of this incident.
So, she must have said those things to Tristan Lockwood after she’d blacked out.
"Did I say anything else?" She felt a bit anxious, worried she had blurted sothing foolish while drunk.
"No."
Claire Hale let out a sigh of relief.
"You just said that you like very much."
That light remark from Tristan Lockwood raised Claire Hale’s heart.
Did she really confess the truth while drunk?
On the other end, Tristan Lockwood seed patient, waiting to see what her reaction would be, so he stayed silent.
Claire Hale sighed wearily and rubbed her temples, coming up with a clumsy, cliché excuse, "I drank too much, don’t take it seriously."
"Is that so?" Tristan Lockwood said slowly, "Crying while hugging , begging not to leave you, complaining that I didn’t want you, saying you want to stay with , all just drunken babble?"
The more Tristan Lockwood spoke, the more Claire Hale wished for a hole to crawl into.
He sounded as though he planted a cara in her car, his voice carried a trace of amusent: "Claire Hale, there’s an old saying, ’A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ It’s not just idle talk."
Claire Hale hung up the phone.
She was afraid that if he kept talking, he’d expose all of her feelings.
What people fear most isn’t baseless speculation, but when soone accurately nas what you hold in your heart.
The fact that she got drunk last night and spoke her mind was probably sothing Claire Hale truly might have done.
After all, on her eighteenth birthday, she dared to embrace a stranger and confess; embracing Tristan Lockwood last night, what else would she dare not say?
When Claire Hale arrived at the office, Joy Sharp handed her a bag of dicine and said, "President Hale, it was delivered by sa-city courier this morning. It’s for you."
Claire Hale glanced at it, seeing it was dication for headaches.
No need to think hard to know it was from Tristan Lockwood.
The more he was like this, the more likely it was that she had said those things to him last night. Claire Hale rubbed her temples, took the dicine from Joy Sharp, and decided to play dead for now.
After all, such unexpected incidents do not happen often.
With ti, they can pretend it never occurred.
Nonetheless, Claire Hale didn’t expect that Tristan Lockwood seed to have truly taken those words to heart.
That evening, just as she arrived downstairs at her apartnt, she spotted a familiar car.
That car was one Byron Lockwood had gifted to her and Tristan after their marriage, insistently getting them to choose the license plate together.
Tristan Lockwood gracefully stepped out of the car.
With spring in full bloom, he wore a trench coat, the hem fluttering in the spring breeze, his tall and handso figure attracting the attention of many passersby.
Claire Hale wanted to pretend not to see him and continued going ho.
Tristan Lockwood walked over with his long legs, catching her just as the elevator was about to close.
"You..."
Before she could drive him out, Tristan Lockwood tilted her chin up, bent down, and covered her lips with his, silencing her words.
Reviews
All reviews (0)