Christine White didn’t dare to jump to the conclusion that she had just misheard, so she only held her breath and asked tentatively, “What exactly did you just mean when you said that I shouldn’t even have to care about Molly Bort in the future?”
Baird Lane’s eyelids opened slightly, his deep pupils revealed some killing intent, “She already has a boyfriend abroad, and her relationship is very good, so naturally Molly Bort and I won’t have any entanglements in the future, and you naturally don’t have to care about her anymore.”
“You … What did you just say, Molly Bort has a boyfriend?” Christine White was sure she had heard him right this time, and that he had indeed called Molly Bort by her full name, but that didn’t surprise her much.
The real surprise is still the fact that Molly Bort has a boyfriend.
“Good, she had a boyfriend abroad three years ago named Toby Dean, a jewelry designer, and they’re very much in love.” Baird Lane explained coldly.
Christine White’s mouth was so long you could fit an egg in it, and it took her a long time to find her voice, “Three years ago? And in love? That’s not possible! You’re the one she loves, aren’t you?”
Baird Lane sneered and didn’t say anything.
Last time he’d known that the person Molly Bort really loved wasn’t him, it was that Toby Dean.
The only reason why she said she loved him was because she wanted to use him for what she wanted.
The funny thing was that it had only been a short time since he had seen it all, but he couldn’t say the words, especially not in front of Christine White, and his pride and self-respect wouldn’t allow him to say them.
But Christine White, looking at him like this, vaguely guessed something.
He did not answer, it seems that the person Molly Bort really loves is not really him, but since she does not love him, why did Molly Bort say these words to snatch him back?
Is it really possessiveness, as Aunt Lucy and Ives Norton say? Is it the kind of thing where even though I don’t love, I won’t allow the person who loves me to love someone else?
If that was the case, then she could only lament that there was something really wrong with Molly Bort’s psyche.
“What about you?” Christine White asked suddenly.
Baird Lane opened his eyes, “What happened to me?”
“Wouldn’t you be jealous in your heart if you said Molly Bort was with that Toby Dean?” Christine White met his eyes.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, “Why should I be jealous.”
“You are not …”
“I don’t love her!” Baird Lane, as if he knew what she was going to say, cut her off before she could finish her sentence.
Christine White just had to rephrase, “So you don’t have any feelings for her at all? I don’t believe it.”
“Okay, that’s enough of this conversation, are you done with your meds?” Baird Lane craned his head to glance over his shoulder.
Christine White nodded with some aggravation in her heart, “It’s on and done.”
The fact that he was in such a hurry to get around the subject was enough to show that he didn’t really have no feelings at all for Molly Bort, anymore.
Quite the contrary, he still had some feelings for Molly Bort, maybe they weren’t as deep as they used to be, maybe just a little bit, but they were there in the end, or he wouldn’t have been.
It’s true that the first love is unforgettable.
At the thought, Christine White lowered her eyes, her long, slender lashes spilling down and casting a shadow at her eyelids, making it impossible to see her expression at the moment.
Baird Lane, sensing the sudden silence behind him, sat up propped up under the covers and asked as he dressed, “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.” Christine White put the lid on the ointment and jumped out of bed, saying nothing before leaving the room.
Baird Lane wrinkled his nose at her back, could sense she was a little angry, but had no idea why she was angry.
Without thinking much about it, he reached for his bedside cell phone and made a call out.
Christine White walked out of the room and stood in the doorway waiting for a few seconds and didn’t see anyone come out behind her, making her heart feel even more uncomfortable.
And he’s claiming that she’s the one he loves now.
As a result, it doesn’t even come out to ask her what’s wrong with her.
Sure enough she still couldn’t count on his emotional intelligence.
“Ma’am.” Aunt Lucy came out of the restroom carrying a bag of garbage and softly voiced out when she saw Christine White standing there staring.
Christine White slapped her cheeks and collected her emotions, forcing up a smile, “What’s wrong Aunt Lucy?”
“It’s fine, I just saw you standing there and called out to you, by the way to say goodbye, it’s getting late, I should go back to the villa, you and mister have an early night.” Aunt Lucy said and carried the garbage out the door.
Christine White was left alone in the living room again, the balcony door was left open and a cold breeze blew in, chilling her and making her shiver.
She rubbed her arms together and walked over to close the door behind her and turned the heat on in the living room, the warmth rose and that’s when she felt her body ease up and stop being so cold.
The room she would not go back to for the time being; she had just heard faintly the sound of talking inside when she was at the door, and thought that Baird Lane was then on the telephone again, so she would not go in and disturb him.
With that thought in mind, Christine White walked over to the coffee table and, after settling down on the couch, lifted the bag from the coffee table and began to sort through the balls of thread inside for knitting the scarf.
By the time Baird Lane finishes his phone call and emerges from his room, he sees a scene of her knitting a scarf with two thick wooden sticks.
This was the first time Baird Lane had ever witnessed scarf weaving, and feeling a little fresh for a moment, he walked over and asked, “Scarf weaving?”
“Uh-huh.” Christine White responded without lifting her head, her entire focus on the task at hand, not even sharing a glance.
Baird Lane’s thin lips pursed, a little uncomfortably, “Knitting for who?”
“Myself.” Christine White replied.
It was actually knitted for him, but now that his birthday hadn’t come up yet, she’d held off on telling him.
“Yourself?” Baird Lane narrowed his eyes and stared intently at the black thread in her hand, “Why black?”
“I like it.” Christine White lowered her head and returned with a twinkle in her eye.
Baird Lane raised an eyebrow, “As I recall, you don’t seem to like black.”
Christine White under the hand action a handful, there is a place all of a sudden on the wrong knitting, she also do not know their own at the moment out of shape, there is no give him to see in the eyes so as to guess what, she also can’t think of these, hurried to restore the calm and composed look and said: “Immediately on the winter, winter clothes are more monotonous in color, the black scarf is good with some. ”
“Yeah.” Baird Lane trailed off.
Christine White wasn’t sure if he believed it or not, and didn’t dare look up at him at all.
Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang.
Baird Lane knocked on the coffee table in front of Christine White, “Get the door.”
“Why me?” Christine White finally lifted her head up this time.
Baird Lane sat down with his arms environmentally friendly, “Go!”
“But I have … in my hand.”
“Go!” Baird Lane ordered once more.
Christine White glared at him in exasperation as she put down the scarf she had knitted a little in her hands and got up to go over to the door.
The door opened and outside was a uniformed delivery boy with a huge and bright red bouquet of roses in his arms, the roses were dainty, with a few small silver-white droplets of water on each one, and fragrant.
Christine White looked at the bouquet of roses and instantly averted her eyes a little, forgetting even to speak.
It was the delivery boy who spoke first, “Is this Ms. Christine White, please?”
Christine White came back to her senses with a jolt and nodded her head, “I am!”
Looking for her?
Could this bouquet be for her?
“Right then, here are your flowers.” The delivery boy handed the bouquet to Christine White with both hands.
Christine White froze stupidly.
Even though there was some speculation in her heart just now that this bouquet of flowers was for her, now that it was confirmed that it was indeed for her, her heart still set off shock waves, and it was only after a long time that she came to her senses, but her voice stuttered, “My … My flowers?”
“Yes.” The courier boy smiled and nodded.
Christine White swallows, “But I … I didn’t order flowers?”