"Don’t take it off anymore." Henry Dales spoke as he brushed the snow off her shoulders and opened the umbrella once again.
The two of them walked slowly along the street.
Behind them was a series of footprints, varying in depth.
The shoes crunched in the snow, making a sizzling sound.
The large umbrella shielded the drifting snowflakes from above, while the handso man in a black coat held the umbrella, tilting most of it toward the woman beside him, thus snow settled on his half-shouldered.
The man was strikingly handso, the kind that captivates you at first glance, and makes it hard to look away.
Compared to the man’s striking appearance, the woman’s looks were less remarkable, but although she wasn’t a stunning beauty, she was quite pleasing to the eye and grew more likable the longer you looked at her.
The combination of a handso man and a beautiful woman is always a delightful sight, no matter the ti or place.
As they passed a wedding photos studio, a photographer erged to ask if they would be willing to model for so wedding photo shoots.
The photographer was the boss of the studio and offered generous terms.
Henry politely declined, and the studio boss looked very disappointed, but before he left, he offered them free photo shoots if they ever decided to take wedding photos there.
Wedding photos? If it were to be with Scarlett Yates, Henry would be willing.
But he knew that even as a model, Scarlett wouldn’t be willing, so he declined the studio boss.
The only person who could make her agree to take wedding photos together was likely Matthew Saxon.
A hint of bitterness arose in Henry’s heart again.
If he had insisted on choosing his love back then, what kind of life would he and Scarlett have now?
But there is no dicine for regret in this world, no matter how many hypotheses there are, they won’t beco reality.
The sudden ring of the phone interrupted his contemplation.
The mont he heard the ringtone, Henry’s brow furrowed.
"Darling, it’s , pick up the phone~~ Darling, it’s , pick up the phone~" a soft and coquettish female voice played repeatedly.
Scarlett imdiately recognized whose voice it was in the incoming call ringtone.
It was Rosie Wood’s voice.
She thought the ringtone was likely sothing Rosie had recorded and intentionally set as her ringtone.
The ringtone kept repeating, and Henry furrowed his brow, not answering.
Scarlett hesitated for a few seconds, then gently reminded him, "Senior Brother Dales, is it Senior Sister Wood calling?"
Henry’s fingers tightened around the umbrella handle, his expression beca stiff, and he nodded, taking his phone from his bag.
He grasped the phone tightly, waited for the ringtone to play a few more tis, then pursed his lips and said, "Scarlett, I’m going to take a call."
"Should I avoid it?" Scarlett asked earnestly.
Henry’s expression stiffened again, and he shook his head, "No need, you stay right here."
He answered the phone, turned his back, and lowered his voice.
"Don’t let your imagination run wild, the news is all made-up."
"I have sothing to do today, I’ll attend class tomorrow instead."
"Rosie, I’ve already told you, the news reports are all false, what will it take for you to believe ?"
"Do you have to make a fuss with ?"
"I said there was nothing, and there really is nothing."
Henry’s lowered voice carried a hint of anger, and from his phone, Scarlett heard a sharp, shrill female voice.
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