Chapter 61: Chapter 61

On the other end, Daniel Carter’s voice was low: "Have you eaten yet?"

I thought to myself, what’s with the small talk? If I say I haven’t eaten, can you really invite me?

With a smile inside, I answered earnestly, "Not yet, I’m still busy."

"When will you be done?"

This question made me pause my work, frowning slightly—what does it mean?

Could it be that he’s back from his business trip?

A surge of excitement rose within me, and after a moment’s hesitation, I quickly said, "I’m almost done, just some non-urgent matters left, I can handle them in the afternoon."

"Okay, then come out for lunch, at the rooftop garden opposite your office." His tone remained calm, but I sensed a hint of a smile.

Having lunch together?!

I suddenly stood up, and the joy inside me soared.

"You’re back from your trip?"

He only finished work at three a.m. last night and replied to my WeChat message, so how is it that he’s back in Fallhaven by noon?

"Yeah, just got here, thought I’d invite you for lunch since it’s noon now." Official source is n0velfire.net

Gripping my phone, I stood there, completely excited, "Great... I’ll tidy up and head over right away."

After hanging up, I looked down at my outfit.

This morning, anticipating a subway ride, I dressed casually, even wearing sneakers.

Thankfully, I had a couple of pairs of spare red-soled shoes in the office.

Putting on the red-soled shoes and standing in front of the mirror transformed my aura immediately, making my otherwise ordinary outfit look sophisticated and elegant.

No wonder there’s a saying: The hallmark of an elegant woman starts with owning a pair of red-soled shoes...

There wasn’t time for makeup, but my face has always been my most stunning feature since childhood.

A quick swipe of lipstick, a smile, and the flaming red lips perfectly complement the high heels beneath, seemingly simple and casual but with an intricate touch.

As I stepped into the elevator hall of the building across the street, as the car ascended rapidly, my heart couldn’t help but race, and my mind began to wander.

The last time I returned his watch, we met at this place.

Today, he’s back from his trip and immediately came near my company, inviting me to eat at the same old place—what does this all mean?

Carrying various speculations, I entered the venue, and before the waiter approached, I spotted Daniel Carter sitting in the familiar spot.

He straightened up and gave me a slight smile as I walked over quickly.

"You finished work at three a.m. last night, right? How come you’re back so early?" I hadn’t even sat down when I tried to appear casual and began the conversation.

Only by doing this could I hide the chaotic thoughts in my mind.

Daniel Carter nodded: "Yes, last night I had to work extra unexpectedly, completed everything ahead of schedule, and caught an early flight back to Fallhaven."

He answered casually, but his words sparked a new round of imaginations in me.

Unexpected overtime? Finished work early?

Why was he in such a hurry to come back?

I stared at him, my heartbeat chaotic once more, temporarily forgetting how to respond.

Daniel Carter glanced at me, then raised a hand, pointing to my arm: "Which hand got injured? Is it better now?"

This question struck the point I’d been doubting, solidifying my suspicions.

Could it be he rushed back just because I had a conflict with Adrian Gordon last night and got hurt—did he specifically change his work plans for me, ending the trip early?

My mind buzzed, and I was slow to react even to his question.

"What’s wrong? Didn’t you lie last night? Is your arm seriously injured?" Seeing my stiff face and silence, his expression fell, asking three questions in a row.

I snapped back to reality, quickly waving my hand, "No, no, really, it’s just a superficial wound."

The simple gesture of his raised hand carried an undeniable sense of authority.

I swallowed, scooted forward in my seat, and extended my right arm, rolling up the sleeve.

The wound itself wasn’t severe, but my fair skin made the blood-red mark stand out starkly.

The edges were lifted where the skin tightened as it healed, and pulling up the sleeve scraped against it, causing a prickly pain like ants biting, making me unconsciously frown.

This made Daniel Carter’s face instantly serious.

"A cut this long and you didn’t do anything about it?" he remarked, a serious tone in his voice.

I smiled a bit, "It’s not bleeding anymore, it’s fine."

He didn’t respond, face taut, brow furrowed, naturally holding my hand and pulling my arm slightly towards him.

He examined the wound carefully, "Have you disinfected and applied ointment?"

"I disinfected it as soon as I got hurt last night."

He remained frowning, "Did you get a tetanus shot?"

"Huh?" I was startled, worried he’d drag me to the hospital for a tetanus shot, so I quickly explained, "No need, the wound isn’t deep, and my scissors weren’t rusty, there’s no risk of infection."

He looked up at me, "Are you very afraid of shots?"

I nodded honestly, "Yes, I am quite afraid."

"But when you were with Adrian Gordon, you kept donating blood to him, weren’t you afraid of the syringe for drawing blood?" He brought up the topic naturally, his words filled with genuine pity.

My heart skipped a beat, and I stared at him, a strong sense of grievance surging inside me.

I’ve always been terrified of needles, even when Jason Miller and the others abused me with slaps and kicks, I could endure that pain, yet I feared the pain from needles.

But during those years, to treat Adrian Gordon, I forced myself to endure it every time, refusing to watch the needle pierce a vein, tightly closing my eyes, turning my face away.

That’s why they called me a top-notch love-struck fool back then.

For love, I risked everything, strong and brave to the point of absurdity.

But despite everything I gave, no one ever wondered if it hurt me, not even Adrian Gordon knew how afraid I was of needles.

Yet now a recently acquainted outsider sensed my inner fear with sensitivity and empathy, feeling sorry for me.

I sat there blankly, my eyes slightly wet and red, throat clogged with words, yet it didn’t seem right to speak.

Instead, Daniel Carter, noticing my emotional shift, sighed helplessly, "Silly girl..."

He understood, understood my grievances, the pain I endured, how my sincere heart was fed to the dogs.

Daniel Carter gently straightened my sleeve, and I snapped back, blinking away the redness in my eyes, pulling back my arm.

The spot on my hand where he had held felt warm, as if the sensation traveled through my veins back to my heart, stirring it even more.

"Thank you, Mr. Carter, for your concern, I just got a little... carried away, sorry." I laughed awkwardly, not hiding my slight emotional breakdown.

Daniel Carter didn’t reply directly but instead took out his phone to make a call.

When I heard him mentioning some ointment, I was suddenly alarmed, quickly saying, "Mr. Carter, no need, I have ointment in my office."

He cast a glance at me, ignored it, and finished the call.

Once he put the phone down, he explained, "If you have ointment, why don’t you apply it? The skin around the wound is too dry, it’s wrinkled. Also, the raised skin might hurt with the sleeve’s friction, but you can’t trim it away, it protects the wound, and once new skin grows, it’ll naturally fall off."