CHAPTER 113: CHAPTER 113: I LIKE YOU, BUT I CAN’T MOVE ON

Mrs. Hawthorne was suddenly anxious.

Helpless, her delicate makeup was smudged.

"Why? If there’s something about Declan you don’t like, tell me, and I’ll make him change!"

Poppy Hale’s eyes darkened.

"No need, President Hawthorne and I aren’t meant to be. There’s also something else I want to tell you."

"You can see Florence anytime you want."

This was all she was willing to say aloud.

She didn’t dare to gamble.

If she told Mrs. Hawthorne the truth, would a family like the Hawthornes fight her for her child?

Declan Hawthorne’s upbringing wasn’t happy.

She hadn’t expected him to have lived like that.

Suppressing a child’s nature, forcing him to bear the burden of an heir, every step was so exhausting, so arduous.

She didn’t want her daughter to live such a life.

She absolutely couldn’t lose Florence.

Allowing Mrs. Hawthorne to see Florence whenever she wanted was the biggest compromise Poppy was willing to make.

Mrs. Hawthorne was delighted, even forgetting about everything that had happened earlier.

She was completely absorbed in spending time with Florence.

In the evening, after several reminders from Heather Underwood, Mrs. Hawthorne reluctantly left.

"Rest well, Florence. Grandma Big Bear will come to see you again tomorrow."

"Okay, Grandma Big Bear must sleep well, and don’t stay up secretly reading novels."

The last time she stayed at the Hawthorne Family’s house, Florence saw Mrs. Hawthorne staying up late, engrossed in her novels.

Her face was full of auntie-like smiles.

Caught by Hugo Hawthorne, he scolded her, but she refused to put her phone down.

Florence then knew.

Mrs. Hawthorne liked reading novels at night and didn’t like sleeping.

Mrs. Hawthorne blushed, quickly making an excuse for herself, "Grandma just read that one time!"

Heather Underwood and Mrs. Hawthorne took Iris Quill and left.

Poppy Hale sat back down.

She asked Florence, "Florence, do you like Grandma Big Bear?"

"Yes, I do, but the person I like the most will always be Mom."

Poppy Hale’s heart was instantly filled.

People are emotional creatures.

Mrs. Hawthorne was good to Florence, so, of course, Florence would like her.

Poppy Hale asked again, "Florence, would you like Grandma Big Bear to be your grandma?"

Florence didn’t understand what the difference was.

"Isn’t it the same? They’re both grandmas. Grandma Big Bear, Grandma Little Bear, they’re all grandmas. Grandmother is different. Florence only has one grandmother, there won’t be another grandmother!"

"Florence, Mom, and Grandmother are special; we’re a family!"

Poppy Hale also laughed along.

Florence was right.

The three of them were a family.

"Mom’s company has an island trip, would you like to go? At that time, Aunt Amber’s sister and Aunt Janine’s brother will also go."

Florence’s eyes lit up.

"Will Iris Quill go too? I want to tell Jessica that I have a good friend now!"

"I’ll ask his mom."

Heather Underwood is also considered an employee of the Hawthorne Group.

She should be able to bring Iris Quill along.

Florence talked all evening and soon got tired. After Poppy Hale helped her wash up, she fell asleep.

Laying Florence on the bed, she tucked her in.

Poppy Hale turned on a night lamp.

The door of the hospital room opened and closed.

Declan Hawthorne walked in from outside.

Poppy Hale asked in surprise, "You didn’t leave?"

"I just sent my mom home. She was talking the whole way about what food to bring for Florence tomorrow."

"Why don’t you go back? I can stay here tonight."

In the hospital room, there was a small bed for parents to stay overnight, very small, just enough for one person to lie down.

If Declan stayed here, it probably wouldn’t be enough space for him to lie down.

Besides, Poppy Hale was more familiar with Florence’s health condition.

Declan Hawthorne sat down beside Poppy Hale.

He stretched his arm, placing it on the back of Poppy’s chair.

He still had a faint smell of smoke, presumably having smoked outside and then stood in the wind, dispersing the scent before coming in.

Before Poppy Hale could react,

he pulled her into his arms with his arm.

His hand pressed firmly on the back of her head, leaving her with no room to struggle.

"Don’t move, be good, let me hold you."

Declan Hawthorne’s hoarse, low voice resonated in Poppy Hale’s ear.

He sounded tired.

Or perhaps he simply wanted a hug.

Poppy Hale was tightly embraced by him, her face pressed against his pulsating pulse, feeling his strong heartbeat.

She didn’t rush to push him away.

"Poppy."

He called her name, but she didn’t respond.

He called her again.

His voice was very soft, afraid of waking the sleeping Florence, also because it was inappropriate to be loud in a hospital.

Poppy Hale was tickled by his voice, instinctively trying to avoid it but was held tighter by him.

"Why are you calling me?"

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to treat you back then."

Declan’s lips, pressed against Poppy Hale’s neck, trembled slightly.

His breath landed on Poppy Hale’s ear, on her neck, hot and scorching.

She wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to avoid.

"I... my psychologist says I have a little emotional avoidance disorder. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before."

Poppy Hale’s eyelashes quivered.

"Why didn’t you tell me back then?"

"I was afraid you’d despise me. Although at that time my grandfather wouldn’t let me say I was part of the Hawthorne Family, for me, it was actually a very happy period."

Declan Hawthorne’s chest rose and fell, the hands on Poppy Hale’s shoulders gripping tighter.

Wanting to hold her, as if wanting to press her into his body with that tightness.

"Back then, I didn’t really want to be part of the Hawthorne Family. I was afraid to tell you that you’d break up with me."

It was also because of his arrogance.

He thought Poppy Hale loved him enough.

As long as he told her and pursued her after, with all the love he had, and all the money he had, she would want to be with him.

But the current Poppy Hale didn’t want his love, didn’t want his money.

Didn’t want him.

What Declan Hawthorne said was somewhat incoherent, yet Poppy Hale understood it all.

To say her heart wasn’t stirred at all would also be a lie.

She opened her mouth to speak but then felt a slight dampness on her neck.

Warm liquid from another’s eyes slid down her neck, leaving a circular stain on her shirt.

Poppy Hale reached out and wrapped her arms around Declan Hawthorne’s back.

Gently patting it.

"It’s all in the past. Let’s both look forward to the future."

"I don’t want the past to be over."

Declan insisted, "I like you, I don’t want the past to leave, I can’t get over it."

It was the first time she heard from his mouth a complete, "I like you."

Poppy Hale’s heart felt like it was also burnt by his tears, her body trembling slightly.

She held her breath, her elbow crooked in front of her chest, trying to push him away.

But she didn’t move an inch.

"Declan, you don’t really like me."

Poppy Hale sighed, her voice calm and composed.

"You just lost the complete control in that relationship, you don’t like me, but you liked the state you were in then. You feel I don’t like you now, and you lost that control over me, so it’s hard to accept."

"There’s nothing you can’t get over, I can get over it, and you can too."

Declan’s eyes were filled with a bleakness like dead stillness.

No,

he truly liked Poppy Hale.

No one liked him as fervently as Poppy Hale did, running to him under the hot sun every time, with undivided love in her eyes, which always moved Declan Hawthorne.

For the first time, someone liked him, not because his last name was Hawthorne.

But because he was himself.