CHAPTER 155: CHAPTER 155: EVEN A STRONG-WILLED WOMAN YIELDS TO PERSISTENT PURSUIT

The procedure for obtaining the marriage certificate was much simpler than Poppy Hale had imagined.

Morgan Sloan even brought along a professional photographer.

He captured a photo of Poppy Hale and Declan Hawthorne’s hands placed on the marriage certificate.

Their faces were not visible, only their overlapping hands.

The lighting effect in the entire photo was handled very well.

Under the Tyndall effect, the shapes of the sunlight became distinct.

Falling on the intertwined hands of Poppy Hale and Declan Hawthorne, the photo seemed to have warmth.

Poppy Hale looked at it and thought it was very good.

She flipped back a few pages.

And saw a photo of their backs taken by the photographer.

Everything was fine except for the part at the back of Declan Hawthorne’s head where she accidentally shaved his hair, which was very conspicuous.

Poppy Hale quickly swiped past it.

Fearing that Declan Hawthorne would see it.

Luckily, Declan’s mind was completely occupied by Poppy Hale just calling him "husband," diverting his attention from other places.

Poppy Hale thought about Declan Hawthorne’s hair.

Feeling a bit guilty.

She nudged his chest with her elbow, cautiously suggesting, "Why don’t you wear a hat to work?"

"Wear a hat?"

Meeting Poppy Hale’s gaze, Declan Hawthorne instinctively reached out and touched the back of his head.

There seemed to be a gap somewhere.

He realized Poppy Hale’s guilty look from last night and her recent intention to carefully cover the photo to prevent him from seeing it.

He burst into laughter.

"It’s okay, it’s fine like this."

"Just... like this? Don’t you still have a meeting?"

Declan Hawthorne hummed, "By then, I’ll say my daughter shaved it off, the shareholders will understand."

Is it appropriate to shift the blame onto Florence like this?

Poppy Hale felt it wasn’t quite right, yet Declan Hawthorne thought it was fine.

Declan Hawthorne squeezed Poppy Hale’s hand.

"Let’s visit the cemetery; this news should be shared with dad."

Poppy Hale side-glanced at Declan Hawthorne.

She had considered telling dad, originally planning to bring Florence over the weekend, but did not expect him to mention it now.

The car they took today was that Jeep Wrangler.

Declan Hawthorne calmly said, "When I was eighteen, I already wanted to marry you."

"Over the years, sometimes I dreamed that I married you while still in college."

Poppy Hale was somewhat surprised and raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

"Back then, you did say you might not necessarily marry me."

Does this count as a slap in the face now?

Declan Hawthorne pinched her hand.

He candidly said, "Yes, because I wasn’t sure grandpa would approve."

"Wanting to marry you, I also didn’t know if your family would be willing, after all, the Hawthorne Family... your family might not like it."

Poppy Hale was taken aback.

When he said this back then, he was actually denying himself, not her.

At that time, he hadn’t gained power, barely having any say within the Hawthorne Group, not even considered a young master worth mentioning.

Naturally, it was also the one-man rule of Old Master Hawthorne.

From Jackie Barrett’s mouth, one could depict him to some extent.

An obstinate and stubborn old conservative.

Declan Hawthorne thought that Connor Lynch and Truth Hale might not like the Hawthorne Family.

It wasn’t an impossibility.

Connor Lynch and Truth Hale just wished for Poppy Hale to marry someone who loved her and whose family relationships weren’t so complicated.

The Hawthorne family is complex.

Such a prestigious family is not Connor Lynch’s first choice for a son-in-law.

Poppy Hale nodded, "You’re right, my dad wouldn’t like your family, but as long as I like you, dad will respect me."

She made a joking remark.

"Back then, I even thought about making you marry into our family."

Declan Hawthorne was slightly stunned, then held Poppy Hale’s hand, pressed it to his lips, and kissed it.

"Even now, I can marry in. I’ll earn the money, and you use my money to support me."

Poppy Hale withdrew her hand.

This man, is he shameless now?

If Old Master Hawthorne heard this, who knows if he’d be infuriated to the point of collapse.

Upon arriving at the cemetery.

Today, Poppy Hale wore a floor-length cheongsam, paired with a pair of thin high heels, making it a bit challenging to climb the stairs.

Declan Hawthorne held her hand, and they slowly walked up the stairs together.

Finding Connor Lynch’s tombstone, they placed the marriage certificate in front of it.

The light filtered through the tree branches, falling on the tombstone, and the cold stone bore Connor Lynch’s name. The photo of the little old man dressed in a suit was also hung there, as if participating in Poppy Hale and Declan Hawthorne’s marriage registration.

In his final moments, Connor Lynch was emaciated beyond recognition, reduced to just skin and bones.

But in Poppy Hale’s eyes, he had always been the most handsome little old man.

Declan Hawthorne knelt down, carefully wiping the dust off the tombstone with a handkerchief.

Poppy Hale looked at the tombstone, "Have you been here before?"

In front of Connor Lynch’s tombstone, there was a bouquet of flowers, and the dust on the tombstone was much cleaner compared to the adjacent tombstones.

The weeds were cleaned out meticulously, even including the little dog tombstone next to it, wiped clean as well.

She hadn’t been here for a while, nor had Truth Hale.

Naturally, it was only Declan Hawthorne.

This was just a guess.

Declan Hawthorne gave a light hum.

"I came to ask uncle for help, to let him consent to giving his precious jewel to me."

"Old Man Shaw told me to pester you relentlessly, saying that even a chaste woman fears a persistent suitor."

"I was worried you’d be annoyed with me."

Pestering might have its effect, but he feared Poppy Hale would grow weary of him.

He also feared that if absent from her life, she would forget him.

Afraid she might regret, worried she’d become indifferent. For a woman, he had internally exhausted himself, a first in Declan Hawthorne’s life.

Simpler to just bring a bottle of wine to the cemetery, visiting Connor Lynch a few times.

By looking at the person in the photo and those pasts Declan Hawthorne investigated, he knew Connor Lynch was a very gentle elder.

When employees fell ill, representing the company to offer condolences, upon seeing the suffering of employees, he even shed tears.

Later, he specifically set up a program to aid employees of the company suffering from serious illnesses.

The Hawthorne Group also had such initiatives,

But the offerings were not as generous as Connor Lynch’s.

He gave almost selflessly to treat his employees kindly.

It was also this kind of person who raised a brilliant and passionate Poppy Hale, like the sunshine.

Who entered his life.

Declan Hawthorne begged him, in his spirit in the heavens, to let Poppy Hale look at him once more.

He swore to do his utmost to bring back the cheerful Poppy Hale.

He hadn’t mentioned these expressions to Poppy Hale.

But seeing the marriage certificate placed on the ground.

Perhaps, Connor Lynch had also heard his plea.

Seen his sincerity.

Poppy Hale’s eyes felt warm.

She lowered her head, using the back of her hand to wipe the corners of her eyes, blinking softly.

"What good does it do you to seek my dad, I’m the one who chose you, not my dad."

"But it was dad’s spirit in the sky that helped me."

He spoke earnestly, as if Connor Lynch was truly before him.

"Dad, I will take good care of Poppy and Florence, you can be at ease."

As they walked out of the cemetery, Poppy Hale always felt someone was watching them from behind.

Turning back for a look, at the end of the long steps, a smiling little old man wore a loving face, waving at them.

With a blink, he was gone.

As though everything just now was an illusion.

The wind rustled the treetops.

The fallen leaves twirled in the air several times, finally flying down into Poppy Hale’s hand.

The red leaves from the top of the Lucas Lowe tree descended, reminiscent of when Connor Lynch lifted Poppy Hale as a child, or when Declan Hawthorne lifted Florence earlier to pluck them.

Tears, sour and salty in Poppy Hale’s eyes, rolled down like tree leaves.