After a while, I said, “Dennis, what does it take to be a good person in our lives?”
He leaned on the steering wheel and looked sideways at me, his eyes deep and dark, “Clara, we don’t have to be good people, we don’t have to live our lives according to anyone’s will, you just have to follow your heart.”
I smiled and stared at the scenery outside the car. Yeah, we just need to live up to our hearts.
We got back to the villa a little late. Probably because I was in a bad mood, I lay in bed for a short time and then fell asleep.
When Dennis came out of the bathroom, he stood by me for what seemed like a long time, and then he lay down next to me. His body was long and slender. He lay down and wrapped me in his arms.
It made me look very small.
I was in a daze, aware that he was lying beside me, close to me, so I said, “I’m on my period. I’m a little tired.”
He said, in a low and subdued voice, “Yeah, I know. Good night.”
He patted me gently on the back.
News about the Georges group was everywhere and he got up early. When I woke up, Dennis wasn’t at the villa.
Finn was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and when she saw me, she smiled and said, “Ma’am, Mr. George left early this morning, and he told me to tell you to eat more later.”
I pressed my lips together and smiled. My eyes rested on the bouquet on the table in the living room. It was a bouquet of roses.
Feeling better, I looked at Finn and asked, “Did you bring that over? Thank you!”
Finn, realizing I meant roses, smiled, “Mr. Toby Rollins dropped them off this morning. Mr. George said you’ve been in a bad mood lately, so putting some flowers around the house would make you feel better.”
I smiled, thinking Dennis was wrong.
Finn made breakfast. I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating porridge, when I saw on my phone the results of the George Group’s response to Sheila Torres falling into the pool.
Because Rose’s push against Sheila Torres in the video was so obvious, she couldn’t explain it anyway. Considering that Rose was a longtime employee of the company, the board ultimately decided to transfer her back to Newton Town and keep her as CFO.
This was a relatively good result for everyone.
After two days in the hospital, Sheila Torres was released, bringing the matter to a close.
How time flied. The holiday was coming soon.
Rose called, but I didn’t answer. I just texted back, “Take care.”
No one could stand to be observed too closely, because we were all half demon.
At noon, Dennis called, his voice warm, “Have you had lunch yet?”
There never seemed to be a burning expression between us. His attention was so absorbed in our trivial life that it seemed to become a habit to ask these questions.
I nodded and sank into the sofa, feeling drowsy. “Yes. I’m the only one in the house. It’s kind of boring.”
I heard his laughter over the phone, “Why don’t you pick me up tonight?”
I was stunned for a while, but nodded and said, “Okay!”
I could imagine his face on the other end of the phone, and I couldn’t help but be happy.
After a pause, he said, “Why didn’t you ask me if I had lunch?”
I was stunned and amused, “Have you had lunch yet?”
“Yes. Very delicious. I’ll cook it for you tonight.”
Grandma said that love at seventeen or eighteen was shy and blushing. In your mid-twenties, love was with vigor and vitality. And after thirty, most people were actually loveless.
But I thought love after thirty was the same as water. They said the greatest thing in the world was like water.
So was love at thirty. The temperature and size of love varied with the people around them.
Love at the age of thirty was like silent rain. It was almost always in the middle of everyday things. As we got older, our bodies became more important.
We were more looking forward to seeing each other through life in good health than to him leaving, leaving half a life of pain and regret for you.
I talked to Dennis for a while and hung up. There was nothing to do at the George Group, so I could take my time.
I lingered in the villa for a while, then took a long sleep, and woke to see that it was dark.
I looked at the time and found it was already eight o’clock. I sat up straight and looked at my phone. There were some missed calls from Dennis on the screen, from around 5 p. m.
I got up and hurried out the door, but caught sight of a piece of white paper on the table, and I froze.
I opened it and saw that Dennis had already returned. He went out again because Marcus wanted to talk to him.
So, he left me a message telling me to wake up for dinner. I looked at the blanket on the sofa, and I couldn’t help lifting my forehead.
I had been getting a lot of sleep lately. I sat back down on the couch and called Dennis again.
“Have you had dinner yet?” No sooner did he get through than his deep, sultry voice came on.
Glancing at the untouched food on the kitchen table, I answered truthfully, “I’m not very hungry! Where are you?”
“The W Town, you want to come over?” With that, my phone vibrated. It was the address he had sent.
After thinking about it, I said, “Give me a minute.”
Since Clariana was not home, it was okay if I went for a walk.
I changed my clothes and drove straight out the door. The villa was not far from the W Town, just half an hour’s drive.
But I was stuck in traffic for a long time because it was rush hour. By the time I got to W Town, it was an hour later.
The manager of the W Town knew me because of Folly had taken me here for several times. So, of their own accord, they took me to the private room where Dennis and the others were.
I was stunned when I went in. It was just two guys, Dennis and Marcus who was drunk.
It had been a long time since we had seen each other. Marcus looked a little ragged and bearded, obviously caused by his own decadence.
Good thing Dennis didn’t seem to be drinking. His slender body sat motionless on the couch in the room, listening to Marcus’s grumbling.
Seeing me, Dennis raised his hand and motioned at me. His voice was deep, and the words in his mouth could still be clearly heard over the loud music, “Come here!”
I walked over to him and looked at Marcus, who was a little drunk. He was lying on the sofa, his clothes messy and still talking drunk, “For ten years! After all I have done for her in ten years, why doesn’t she look back at me?”
Clearly, he was trapped in love.
Dennis ordered me a juice and looked at me, “Do you want to sing a song?”
Shaking my head, I leaned closer and whispered, “Was he lovelorn?”
He looked at the screen and said quietly, “He loves someone but he can’t get her.”
I…
How affectionate he was!