Today Ian Shelby encountered an ergency, and by the ti he got off work, it was already eleven at night. Fortunately, the patient’s condition was stable, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Recently, he’s been thinking about getting so exercise, so he didn’t drive today and walked five thousand steps to the hospital in the morning.
On the way ho, he walked alone under the moonlight, facing the evening breeze, emptying his thoughts, which felt quite pleasant.
"Ian?"
Vera Ford stopped her car beside him, lowering the driver’s window, "What’s going on? Where’s your car?" She had just gotten off work after eting a friend nearby.
Ian stopped and turned his gaze, looking handso and gentle, "I didn’t drive today."
"Get in, I’ll drive you ho!" Vera was quite happy; perhaps it was fate.
But he shook his head, "No need, I’m just getting so exercise and clearing my mind." After speaking, Ian nodded politely at her and stepped away.
Vera was stunned for a mont, preferring to walk rather than ride in her car—was that what he ant?
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, and a sense of loss flashed deep within her heart.
Watching the back of the man she adored fade away, Vera slowly started her car and followed him, maintaining a respectful distance.
She didn’t want to disturb him but didn’t want to leave.
In the car, a song played, the lyrics perfectly fitting the mont, carrying a faint sense of lancholy.
"I give you my plain and simple wait and watch, I give you my passionate yearning and gentleness, I give you my endless joy and sorrow, I give you all my humble everything..."
As she listened, tears unknowingly filled her eyes, and they began to ache with an intense sting.
Ian didn’t pay attention to her; he walked briskly, understanding that only a fast walk counted as exercise.
Usually, he spent a lot of ti in the lab and operating room, but actually, he also valued exercise.
Under the moonlight.
Vera sat in the driver’s seat, gently tapping the brakes, and the car ca to a halt.
She watched Ian walk into the yard, seeing him enter the living room without looking back, seeing the lights turn on in the villa...
Once, she lived there and had dinner with him.
She used to see him in his pajamas.
Now, she didn’t even have the right to speak more than a few words, only limited to work-related exchanges.
The feeling of unrequited love was truly painful.
Eleven at night.
Trevor’s car was parked in the Dalton family villa’s yard; he had been staying here recently.
With Joan Graham incarcerated and Ethan receiving treatnt in the hospital, the house seed cold and deserted.
"Young master."
Butler Warren, dressed in pajamas, appeared outside the second-floor living room, asking quietly with confusion, "Why not asleep yet?"
Trevor looked up at her, his deanor gentle, "Hmm."
"Would you like to make you so late-night snacks?"
"No need, you can rest," he wanted to be alone quietly, as his father hadn’t returned yet.
Butler Warren glanced at him, then turned to leave, encountering David Dalton, who had just returned from the company, at the stairs, "Good evening, Mr. Dalton."
"Still awake?" the middle-aged man asked softly.
Butler Warren respectfully bowed and then glanced towards the living room, reporting softly, "The young master hasn’t slept either; maybe he’s waiting for you."
David Dalton followed her gaze, "You rest early." He then stepped up the last step.
Footsteps echoed, and Trevor looked up, eting his father’s gaze.
After David Dalton entered, noticing his son’s mood, he walked to the wine cabinet, taking out two wine glasses and a bottle of Lafite.
Skillfully opening the bottle, he poured so wine into the glasses, gently swirled them, and walked over to his son.
"Dad." Trevor, sitting on the sofa, reached out to take the glass his father handed him.
David sat down across from his son.
The night was silent.
Trevor took a sip of wine, looking towards the curtains stirred by the night breeze, which stirred his faint lancholy, "I got a call from her today."
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