CHAPTER 44: CHAPTER 44: CONSIDERING DIVORCE?

Poppy Hale picked up on it.

What Declan Hawthorne implied.

But she pretended not to understand, just smiled.

She transferred half of the money to Declan Hawthorne via her phone.

Feeling a bit of heartache.

This meal cost her several days’ wages.

But fortunately, the recent projects were progressing well, and if everything went smoothly, she could receive quite a bit of final payment this month.

Poppy Hale really liked drawing.

She put all her effort into every picture, using her inspiration and ingenuity.

Each time, she would make several sketches for the client to choose from.

Sometimes, when encountering generous clients, they would buy them all, allowing Poppy Hale to finish them when she had time, for the same price.

She named Florence Lynch after drawing because she was happy when doing it.

She could construct and control her own world alone.

Drawing was also her source of happiness.

Previously, the gas at home broke, and halfway through Poppy Hale’s shower, the hot water stopped.

She finished her shower, enduring the cold, and caught a cold afterward.

Florence felt very distressed.

While Mrs. Hale wasn’t paying attention, the small child actually stood on a stool and used an electric kettle to boil water for Poppy Hale and made her some cold medicine.

She held it up to her, blowing on it.

"Mom, drink, don’t catch a cold, cold is bad."

"In the future, drawing will definitely make money, and I’ll buy a big train for you, Mom!"

Poppy Hale held the warm cup, watching the steam rise, and said with a smile, "Why a big train?"

"The teacher said coal is transported by train. I want to buy a train full of coal for Mom."

Childish words.

Made one burst out laughing.

Poppy Hale couldn’t help but laugh as well.

But inside, she felt especially warm.

-

Declan Hawthorne finished eating.

Looking at Poppy Hale.

"Your husband didn’t come to pick you up, yet he shows up here."

The matter Allen Shaw was investigating for him was still ongoing, but he did receive news that Sean Lynch had booked a table at this restaurant for tonight.

After picking up the child, Iris Quill suggested Declan bring Florence along.

It started raining heavily again.

He thought Poppy Hale must be alone.

After all, that man still needed to make time to date other women.

It was exactly as he thought.

Declan Hawthorne leaned back, giving Poppy Hale a sidelong glance.

"Not planning to divorce?"

Poppy Hale bit the straw in her drink cup.

Watching Florence play.

Poppy Hale’s lips were full of gentle affection.

"Depends on Florence. Whoever she likes, that’s who it is."

Declan Hawthorne’s gaze shifted momentarily to Florence.

The man’s fingers were long and slender, with pronounced joints; each finger looked like a piece of art meticulously crafted by God.

Even holding a cup of drink seemed like he was holding expensive liquor.

Strangely, it made others’ ears feel hot.

Declan spoke nonchalantly, "When is your daughter’s birthday?"

Poppy Hale was momentarily stunned.

Then she replied, "May."

Declan Hawthorne smiled, that smile seemed to see through a clumsy lie.

Causing cold sweat to break out on Poppy Hale’s back.

Declan Hawthorne took a sip of ice water.

The ice cubes crunched noisily in his mouth.

Last time, Florence said she was born in May, but her birthday was in winter.

Declan Hawthorne found Mrs. Hawthorne’s childhood photos.

To say Florence resembled them was an understatement.

To be precise, they were almost identical.

Declan Hawthorne believed that no coincidence in the world could be this exact.

Poppy Hale’s palms began to sweat.

"What’s wrong?"

She tentatively asked.

Declan Hawthorne shook his head, "Nothing, just seeing who is older, her or Iris."

"Oh, well, Iris Quill is a bit older."

The man across suddenly spoke.

"How’s your father doing?"

Poppy Hale bit her lip, didn’t speak.

The restaurant’s lights changed to a warmer tone, enhancing appetite.

On Declan Hawthorne, it added a faint, hazy mood.

The man chuckled softly.

"I thought, besides a superior-subordinate relationship, we could at least be considered as classmates."

Poppy Hale felt a bit of bitterness inside.

Indeed.

Their relationship was nothing more than classmates and superior-subordinate.

She looked down at her plate in front of her.

"He passed away."

She didn’t say more.

She didn’t want to bring up Mr. Hale’s passing with anyone.

The departure of a relative is a lifelong, unrelenting sorrow.

Mr. Hale was the person who loved her most in the world.

Throughout her life, she received Mr. Hale’s unreserved, wholehearted love.

When she was little, Mr. Hale would learn to braid hair just so Poppy Hale could be the best-looking princess in kindergarten.

A burly man who learned to braid hair.

He even learned to do cross-stitch and design little girls’ dresses.

He started a toy factory for Poppy Hale.

Whenever Poppy Hale was sick, Mr. Hale would stay up all night by her bedside.

Ensuring that when she woke up, she would see him.

When Poppy Hale got into fights, Mr. Hale’s first reaction was to ask if she won.

If she won, he’d praise her, then happily negotiate compensation.

If she lost, he’d go to the other parents’ house and make trouble.

The clearest thing Poppy Hale remembers him saying is that other kids weren’t as great as his little princess.

She thought Mr. Hale and Mrs. Hale didn’t get along.

As a child, she asked why she didn’t carry the surname Lynch but Hale.

Mr. Hale said it was because he loved Poppy and her mom.

The two women he loved most in the world sharing the same surname made him feel more fulfilled.

Back then, Poppy Hale thought it would be great if she could find a man as good as Mr. Hale in the future.

After bringing up Mr. Hale, she became somewhat sad.

Declan Hawthorne instinctively leaned in closer.

Indeed, tears stained the corner of her eyes.

Suddenly being looked at that way, Poppy Hale was startled.

She scooted back a bit, almost hitting the wall behind.

The man’s hand cushioned the back of her head, and a deep voice came from above, "Be careful."

Poppy Hale quickly thanked him, "Thank you."

Until after dinner, Declan Hawthorne didn’t say anything further.

He first took Poppy and Florence home.

Both kids had already fallen asleep.

In the car, Poppy glanced at her phone.

The meal payment she transferred, Declan Hawthorne hadn’t accepted.

Poppy Hale put her phone away, thinking it was probably because he hadn’t seen it; she’d remind him later.

Declan Hawthorne turned the steering wheel.

"How did you and your husband meet?"

"...We’re mutual acquaintances through patients."

Poppy Hale quickly searched her mind for a reason.

Praying Declan Hawthorne wouldn’t ask further.

Unexpectedly, he continued, "When did you get married?"

Poppy Hale’s face gradually turned pale.

Partly because of carsickness.

Declan Hawthorne was driving a bit fast, and combined with the fact that she hadn’t eaten much that night, her stomach churned.

She forcefully held back a rising wave of nausea.

Poppy Hale clutched her bag.

Feigning a smile, "Is President Hawthorne so interested in the details of others’ love?"

As soon as they arrived at the entrance of the community, Poppy Hale got out of the car with her sleeping daughter and left.

Declan Hawthorne watched her back.

Delicate and slender, holding Florence as if she were a doll.

She avoided him whenever possible.