CHAPTER 75: CHAPTER 75: HIS GOAL HAS ALWAYS BEEN CLEAR

On the screen, the man’s face was very close.

It was a bit dark over there.

The video seemed to have a layer of fog.

The originally sharp and cold face now had a few traces of hazy warmth.

The features were even more defined.

Poppy Hale suddenly recalled a popular term online.

The feeling of a married man.

It was fully embodied in him.

Poppy Hale walked over and picked up the sleeping Florence Lynch.

The bed in the bedroom had just been made.

In this house, there happened to be a crib attached to the master bed, perfect for sleeping Florence now.

After covering her daughter with a quilt, Poppy Hale went out to get her phone.

Declan Hawthorne hadn’t hung up yet.

He kept watching Poppy Hale across the screen.

Poppy Hale picked up the phone, "What did you say to Florence?"

"I told her a story, in English. In that way, she’s a lot like you."

He spoke with a hint of laughter.

An indescribable tease.

Poppy Hale even suspected Declan Hawthorne was singing a lullaby.

Perhaps it was the overly romantic atmosphere, or maybe the ambiguous haze added by the video chat.

Poppy Hale was exhausted from the day and her tone carried a hint of playful reproach.

"I didn’t fall asleep on purpose back then. Your subject was too crazy. Who teaches calculus in English?"

It was so crazy.

All-English lessons, and teaching calculus, either one alone could make Poppy Hale doze off.

Piled together, it was a promise to meet Morpheus.

She fell asleep, and coincidentally, the professor called on someone to answer a question.

The professor, knowing she wasn’t a student in the class, only laughed and asked, "How can a college student be so sleepy? Classmate, what were you doing last night?"

"Since you’re Declan Hawthorne’s girlfriend, why don’t you help your partner answer?"

There was a burst of teasing laughter from the people around.

Poppy Hale’s face buried in Declan Hawthorne’s palm.

She dared not make a sound.

Listened to Declan Hawthorne answer fluently in English with the correct answer, and the class returned to its normal course.

Only then did Poppy Hale look up.

Just saw Declan Hawthorne laughing at her.

At Arvum University, big lectures were held in tiered classrooms.

The window next to Declan Hawthorne reflected lush plants, full of vitality.

The smile on his face was even more timeless.

She couldn’t help it and secretly pinched a piece of flesh at Declan Hawthorne’s waist under the table.

His muscles were too hard, she couldn’t pinch it.

Had to give up.

Unexpectedly, he brought up the past.

After Poppy Hale complained, she realized her tone was too intimate.

She coughed, "I’m going to hang up."

Declan Hawthorne suddenly spoke, "Why not apply for the subsidy? Don’t want the money?"

He went back to the company to work overtime.

It was all for this internal policy.

Though not a big deal, many female employees at the group were married or had children, and it wasn’t Declan Hawthorne’s personal say.

With layers of procedures, although it went smoothly, no one knew.

His purpose was secretive yet clear.

Poppy Hale was stunned.

Found an excuse.

"I lost the divorce certificate. President Hawthorne should understand my unwillingness to keep such things, right?"

The man pressed his lips, "It can be reissued."

Poppy Hale refused without ceremony, her attitude firm.

"I don’t want to. That’s it, hanging up, good night, President Hawthorne."

Hung up the phone.

The phone was placed on her chest.

Poppy Hale still felt a little guilty.

Why was Declan Hawthorne so persistent about this?

Thinking it over.

She didn’t take the money, and it wouldn’t harm the company.

-

Hawthorne Family study.

Declan Hawthorne looked at the suddenly disconnected video call.

The study door was pushed open.

As soon as Tristan Hawthorne came in, he saw someone hang up on Declan Hawthorne.

Big brother wasn’t angry, instead, there was a slightly... strange smile on his lips.

Big brother rarely smiled.

Seeing this expression, he still felt uncomfortable.

Tristan Hawthorne couldn’t help but shiver.

"Big brother, you called me."

Declan Hawthorne put down the phone, hands crossed on his knees, his posture composed, still gave Tristan Hawthorne a palpable sense of pressure.

"Tristan, haven’t you dated many times?"

Tristan Hawthorne’s knees instinctively weakened.

Almost wanted to kneel down and admit fault on the spot.

"I, I haven’t."

"Big brother, those were just childish flings, just dating..."

Tristan Hawthorne began to wonder if a former girlfriend had complained to big brother.

Declan Hawthorne said, "Then do you know how to make a woman angry with me?"

Tristan Hawthorne: "..."

Huh?

For a moment, Tristan Hawthorne thought he misheard.

Dared not make a sound.

Big brother had this peculiar interest?

Not noticing Tristan Hawthorne’s rapidly changing expression, Declan Hawthorne continued, "She treats others differently from how she treats me."

Tristan Hawthorne cautiously, "Is it sister-in-law... Miss Hale? That’s normal, she likes you so she’s gentle to you."

Besides, Miss Hale’s cool appearance didn’t seem like a bad-tempered personality.

The sound of a lighter clicked.

Declan Hawthorne bit a cigarette, taking a deep inhale.

"I don’t like it this way."

Tristan Hawthorne calmed his nerves.

"Big brother, I’m different in front of you than in front of dad. Don’t you know why?"

Declan Hawthorne’s eyes flickered.

His breathing also momentarily stopped.

Of course, he knew.

Because Tristan was scared of him, needed to rely on him, afraid to displease him, and knew his patience for his siblings was limited.

Declan Hawthorne wanted to say, how could this be the same?

But the words got stuck there, couldn’t come out.

His voice was hoarse.

"But she had a child with someone else."

Tristan Hawthorne didn’t dare breathe.

But he had seen how big brother treated that child.

Knew big brother didn’t care about the child’s existence.

Summoning the courage, he licked his lips.

"Big brother, last year I didn’t do well on that project, so I started a new one myself. Are you mad?"

Last year, that project was led by Declan Hawthorne.

But he proceeded cautiously and didn’t make much progress.

This year, he built his team, and with only Declan Hawthorne’s remote guidance, everything went smoothly.

The study fell into silence.

Declan Hawthorne’s gaze turned obscure.

Of course, he wasn’t angry, it was good that Tristan had his own ideas and development.

The previous project was doomed to fail, so why couldn’t a new one be started?

Did he hate her for moving on seamlessly?

No.

In all fairness, even if Poppy Hale had remarried and had children years later, he would still feel jealous.

Jealous that another man had possessed her more intimately.

Throughout these years, whenever he thought of Poppy Hale, his heart couldn’t be at peace.

With English so poor, how could she dare to go abroad?

He resented her ruthlessness, resented that she left without a word, resented that she married and bore children with someone else, resented that her love was a lie.

However, he understood how disappointed she was back then.

Declan Hawthorne tiredly closed his eyes again.

Ash fell on his fingers, casually flicked off.

He had put in so much effort, actually, to see Florence’s medical birth certificate.

He wanted to confirm the child’s birth time.

He wasn’t interested in her marriage or divorce certificates.

He feared that even knowing it wasn’t Sean Lynch, he wouldn’t be able to resist the overwhelming bitterness and anger within.

But she still cared about that failed marriage.