CHAPTER 167: CHAPTER 167: A LITTLE THING CALLED FIRST LOVE

These past few days, the temperature in Beldon has been dropping, and weather forecasts indicate a new typhoon is forming.

The osmanthus flowers in the yard have fallen all over the ground.

Holly Crowe decided to move back to The Grandflora Gardens.

Since she decided to reconnect with Blake Sinclair and experience their past life again, living in Port Kallow was indeed inconvenient.

She used the excuse that something urgent needed her attention at the Lunar Lotus Studio and packed her luggage early the next morning.

Director Lennon didn’t say a word, but the glance he cast before she left was too meaningful, as if he had already seen through her little plan.

Returning to The Grandflora Gardens, her mindset was completely different from when she had left.

The items in the house remained untouched, just as they were when she had left.

It was as if she had only been on a brief trip these past days.

Blake Sinclair took her luggage into the master bedroom, while Holly leaned against the door, watching him take out her clothes piece by piece, hanging them in the wardrobe.

Most of her dresses were bright colors, hanging among his uniformly deep gray suits and shirts. The vibrant colors clashed, evoking a sense of nostalgia.

Everything seemed to have returned to the old days.

After arranging her clothes, Blake received a work call and went to the study to handle it.

Holly changed her clothes and curled up on the bed to have a voice chat with Celia Stiles.

Their conversation shifted from trivial matters at the Lunar Lotus Studio to the time she recently spent back in Port Kallow.

When Celia heard that Holly had met Blake Sinclair when she was five, she exclaimed on the phone, with a few excited dog barks audible in the background.

Holly moved the phone farther away, puzzled, "Since when did you have a dog?"

Celia brushed it off, "It’s my neighbor’s, just helping to look after it for a few days."

She quickly steered the conversation back, her tone full of gossip and excitement, "I never expected this, senior! Your marriage to President Sinclair wasn’t just love after marriage; it was childhood sweethearts turning true love! Let me calculate... from five years old to now, that’s a full twenty-two years!"

"That’s not exactly true,"

Holly instinctively retorted, her cheeks flushed, "I was just graduating from kindergarten at that time, and we only spent one summer together, where’s the secret crush in that?"

"But what about the second meeting?"

"You were sixteen when you saw him again! President Sinclair was already an adult by then! That’s ten years of a secret crush!"

Celia became more and more certain.

"Senior, think about it! President Sinclair said the safe holds profound significance for him, it’s filled with things you gave him. Doesn’t that mean you’re even more important than the safe? The key password is the day you first met! If that’s not a secret crush, then what is it? It’s blatant affection!"

Holly was stunned by her analysis, and pondering over it, she found it somewhat plausible.

All along, she could find no reason for Blake’s kindness and favoritism toward her.

She could never guess why he treated her so differently; perhaps Celia was right after all?

"But why would he keep such a secret?" she muttered quietly, yet there was an expectation she wasn’t even aware of.

"Oh, probably out of shyness! After all, a man with President Sinclair’s status and personality must find it awkward."

Celia spoke with a tone of certainty, "Now, all you two need is a chance to break the ice! Let me give you some advice..."

.....

The night was deep, enveloping The Grandflora Gardens.

Holly sat on the soft living room sofa, eyes on the screen before her, yet her mind was entirely in the bathroom.

Hearing the water stop, she quickly pressed the remote for the projector, pretending to watch a movie, her heart racing.

Blake Sinclair came out after his shower, noticing her nestled in the living room, bringing with him the faint scent of jasmine body wash.

"What made you suddenly decide to watch a movie?"

Holly picked up a cup of water, sipped to mask her nervousness, "Wasn’t it Grandpa Irving who suggested revisiting old activities? I just remembered we haven’t watched a movie together in a long time, thought we’d watch one, want to join?"

She patted the spot beside her.

Blake sat next to her, casually picking a pomelo from the fruit plate and began peeling it.

"What are you watching? A Thai movie?" he asked, his hands peeling the fruit, placing the segments neatly into a small dish.

"Yes, ’First Love,’ have you seen it?"

Holly asked casually, subtly observing his reaction.

"No, I haven’t watched many movies these years."

He pushed the peeled pomelo segments toward her.

Holly took a segment and popped it into her mouth, the sweet and refreshing taste spreading.

As she chewed, she explained the plot, "The movie is about the main characters who secretly liked each other but missed their chance because they didn’t confess in time, and ended up missing out on many years."

She slowed her speech, watching Blake Sinclair’s expression, "In the movie, the male lead secretly made a photo album for the female lead, filled with her photos at different times. Eventually, she discovered it and realized he had liked her all along."

However, Blake merely kept his head down, focusing on peeling the pomelo, occasionally glancing up at the screen, his expression calm.

Holly felt somewhat dejected, thinking she might have been foolish to believe in Celia’s harebrained idea, testing him in this manner.

Just when she was about to give up, Blake turned his head suddenly, his calm eyes fixed on her, "Holly."

Holly’s heart skipped, her anticipation soaring, "What’s wrong?"

Blake looked at her deeply, then glanced at the screen.

The movie had reached its end, where the main characters confessed to each other in a live interview, accompanied by poignant background music.

He turned back to her, his words precise, "I love you."

"Huh?" Holly was stunned; this wasn’t how she envisioned a secret confession unfolding.

"I am grateful you appeared at seven, eighteen, and again at thirty."

He paused, his voice carrying a barely noticeable tremor.

"Over all these years, I’ve carefully kept every gift you gave me so that if I ever saw you again, I’d tell you this in person. Thank you, Holly, for being there in those dark days without light."

"Grateful?"

Holly was bewildered.

So everything was just gratitude?

Blake added, "I had the yarrow bird embroidered on my tie to remind myself not to forget those times, but thankfully, we met again. I didn’t expect Shannon Yarrow to make a big deal out of it, causing your misunderstanding. That’s why I got rid of those ties."

Holly’s spark of hope for a secret crush was instantly extinguished.

"So, even our marriage was because...?"

Blake noticed her somber eyes, playfully tapping her forehead, "What’s on your mind? The gratitude is real, and so is the love. The two aren’t mutually exclusive."

Holly covered her forehead, which didn’t hurt, and lowered her head, hiding her disappointment and embarrassment.

"What are you doing! That hurt!"

The emotions she’d carefully crafted throughout the evening, playing countless scenarios of a secret crush coming true in her mind, ended up just being a matter of gratitude?

Reality, it turns out, isn’t a novel; there’s no intricate and romantic secret crush narrative.

Blame Celia!

The movie finished, and the credits started to roll on the screen, listing the cast and crew.

Afraid he’d notice more of her embarrassment, Holly decided not to linger and, under the pretext of being angry over the tap on her forehead, retreated to the bedroom.

Blake watched as the bedroom door closed, the smile on his face gradually fading.

His eyes turned toward the final frame on the projection screen, but his thoughts drifted back to when Grandpa Irving asked him after Holly had been sent away for the test.

"Do you really want her to remember?"

He remained silent for a long time, before he could answer, Grandpa Irving’s next sentence hit home.

"She says her dreams have become more frequent and vivid lately. In my experience, her memories might very well return soon."

At that moment, Blake felt as if the world tilted.

Grandpa Irving shook his head, his gaze compassionate, "Whether she recalls on her own or you tell her yourself, that choice is yours alone."

After a heavy silence, Blake finally spoke with difficulty, "Grandpa Irving, I will tell her. But before that, I’d like to ask for one more favor."