Forgetting all about her suitcase, Claire Sinclair scampered downstairs to his office and knocked on the door.
"Mr. Quincy, may I co in?"
"Co in."
Claire Sinclair imdiately pushed the door open and walked excitedly up to him. "When are you free? Let’s go get divorced."
"I’m not free this month."
"How about this? When you’re free, have Aiden Howkins give a call. I’ll race over to the Civil Affairs Bureau and wait for you."
Adrian Quincy just nodded without saying a word.
"Well... I’ll be going then."
"Wait."
"What is it?"
"Co here."
As he spoke, Adrian Quincy stood up, turned to open the bookshelf behind him, and began rummaging for sothing.
Curious, Claire Sinclair walked over and waited in front of his desk.
For so reason, Adrian Quincy, who was always so ticulous and careful, accidentally knocked sothing over. A large pile of books and files tumbled out, landing at his feet.
Seeing this, Claire Sinclair hesitated for a long while before walking over to help pick them up.
They both picked up the items with their heads lowered, neither looking at the other.
Before they knew it, only one book was left. Their hands reached for it in unison, and their fingers brushed against the cover at the sa ti.
Claire Sinclair instinctively pulled her hand back. She then placed her stack of books on top of his. "Mr. Quincy, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be—"
"I told you to wait."
Adrian Quincy placed the books on the desk, then went back to the bookshelf. After searching for a long ti, he finally pulled out a notebook.
He handed the notebook to her. "This is your sister’s diary. Take it."
"My sister’s diary?"
Claire Sinclair took the diary in surprise. It was quite old, its pages yellowed with age, but it carried the faint scent of perfu.
"It slls so nice..." She couldn’t resist taking a sniff. The fragrance was very pleasant.
Adrian Quincy said in a low voice, "Yara accidentally spilled perfu on it once. The scent has lingered ever since."
"Have you all read this diary?"
"No one has read it."
"Oh..." She was relieved to hear that.
Claire Sinclair carefully opened the flyleaf and saw a sentence written there: "I’ll handle earning the money, you just handle being gorgeous. We’ve got this!"
That sentence alone was enough to make Claire Sinclair burst into tears.
Others might not have understood her sister, but she did.
’Her sister had written that for her...’
Her sister would send ho every cent of her monthly stipend, without keeping anything for herself. In the end, it was always snatched up by their father, lanie Sinclair, and lanie’s mother. But whenever Claire wrote back to her sister, she would claim she was the one who’d taken the money.
She had also tried to persuade her sister not to send money ho and to keep so for herself, but her sister never listened...
As mories of the past resurfaced, Claire’s heart ached. Her vision blurred, and tears dripped onto the page, smudging the ink.
Her heart clenched. She frantically tried to wipe the teardrops off the paper.
Just then, a large hand snatched the notebook away from her. The man’s low voice sounded by her ear, "It seems you don’t have the ntal fortitude to possess this diary. When you can read it without batting an eye, you can co and get it from ."
After speaking, he locked the notebook in a drawer.
Claire Sinclair: "..."
’Is it wrong to get emotional over sothing that brings back mories?’
’He’s so heartless!’
Claire Sinclair cursed him a few tis in her head, but she chickened out when it ca to saying it aloud. "Then please bring my sister’s diary with you when you et at the Civil Affairs Bureau for our divorce. I’m heading back now."
This ti, Adrian Quincy didn’t try to stop her.
Her departure was so resolute that she missed the flicker of hurt in his eyes. It was as if a sudden downpour had started, the drops falling into the clear, calm depths of his gaze and throwing his heart into complete turmoil.
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