Gazing at Arabella Vanderbilt's slender and stubborn figure as it disappeared from view.
Joel Russo didn't move.
Unexpectedly, the Old Madam slapped him on the butt!
His tall figure stiffened sharply, a trace of gloomy darkness twisting in his calm, indifferent eyes.
Joel Russo, who had always disliked being touched, found himself at the age of twenty-eight, having his butt slapped at such a moment!
Leila, standing behind him, failed to hide her low laughter.
"Hurry up and go! Are you trying to infuriate me?"
The Old Madam clearly didn't care about him and urged him again.
Joel Russo raised his slender fingers and pressed against his temple with a bit of a headache, utterly helpless.
"Yes, Grandma!"
-
When Arabella Vanderbilt walked into the ward alone, Oliver Timmerman was already there.
He stood by the window, his back to the door, presumably in a high-end grey suit, though now missing the jacket, leaving him in a white shirt.
His clean and handsome appearance reminded Arabella of their college days, of the gentle man in the white shirt.
It's just a pity that times had changed, and the boy was no longer the boy he used to be.
Arabella didn't look at him, walking into the ward, her entire demeanor calm and detached to the point of being terrifying.
Sensing someone entering, Oliver Timmerman turned around.
"Where did you go?"
Arabella didn't answer but walked straight to the bedside and sat down.
Oliver continued, "I pushed you in a moment of panic just now, sorry."
His voice was very gentle, as if the man who had just been stern and hostile toward her, brooding to the extreme, was a figment of her dreams.
"None of what happened just now was my fault."
Regardless, she needed to clear her name.
Oliver Timmerman looked down at her, his eyes originally filled with apology and struggle now held a trace of mockery.
"Do you know what Juliana said?"
The gaze from above was so intense; Arabella looked up and saw Oliver's eyes brimming with disappointment.
"She said that it was her who didn't hold the cup steady, that it was all her fault, that she was trying to clear your name. And you, right now, are still here shirking responsibility. Arabella, it shouldn't have come to this."
Arabella looked at him for a long while, her eyes moving from shock, to disappointment, to indifference.
She looked out the window with a faint cold smile on her lips.
A light, misty laugh full of irony.
"Oliver, how many years have we known each other?"
Oliver paused, but still said, "Eight years."
"Hah—" Arabella laughed.
Eight years, huh!
In all that time, she had never imagined!
That Oliver's trust in her was so fragile it couldn't withstand a single blow.
Such a man, Arabella Vanderbilt didn't want!
Arabella stood up, looking at him coldly.
"Oliver, let's call off our engagement."
Her cool voice resounded decisively, leaving no room for argument.
Shock flashed across Oliver's eyes.
"Why do you look so surprised? From the moment you saved Juliana, or perhaps even earlier, hadn't you already made your choice?"
Oliver remained shocked for a long time, his eyes complex as he looked at Arabella. But in a moment, they filled with a sense of relief.
"Arabella, I'm sorry. Perhaps it's better we part ways. If we continue, I fear I won't be able to help myself from hurting you deeper to protect Juliana."
Arabella's hands curled slightly as she looked up at him with icy eyes.
"To protect Juliana Vanderbilt? Oliver, does that mean you never believed me at all about any of the things that happened before?!"
Struggle flashed in Oliver's eyes, "Juliana is too innocent and fragile, Arabella you... you're too cold and strong."