CHAPTER 4: CHAPTER 4: WYATT HAWTHORNE, CONGRATULATIONS!

"Serena, you should be thankful for the cooling-off period..."

Exiting the civil affairs bureau, Adrian Lockwood looked at Serena Sinclair with eyes full of coldness and sarcasm. "It gives you a month to reconsider."

So, even at this moment, he still believed she was playing games?

And that she would surely regret in a month’s time?

Serena’s expression was calm, "Adrian, I won’t regret it!"

Unbelieving, Adrian turned around and walked away.

The Mercedes sped past in front of her.

Standing by the roadside, Serena felt a moment of bewilderment in her heart.

No house.

No car.

No luggage either.

Except for the phone in her hand, she hadn’t even brought a change of clothes.

Is this what it truly means to leave with nothing?

Ding!

Her phone chirped softly, and Serena raised her hand to see the bank transaction notification on the screen.

100,000.

During her years at The Lockwood Group as an architect, her monthly salary was 8,000, and the whole year added with a half-month bonus was exactly 100,000.

Pregnant for a year.

Full-time for five years.

In these six years, even as a nanny, she could have saved up 200,000.

But in Adrian’s eyes, she was free labor.

The sadness began to rise in her heart but was quickly suppressed by a soft breath from Serena.

Serena looked up at the blue sky and white clouds overhead.

At this time of day, she would send Miles to kindergarten, then go to the supermarket or the market to shop, just arriving home.

There would be no time to sit down for a rest; she would first head to the bathroom to toss the clothes from the night before into the washing machine, then clean up the dining table and sink.

A robot vacuum would sweep the floors.

A floor cleaner would mop them.

But both required manual operation.

In the midst of operations, she’d still have to organize the toy and picture book shelves in the playroom.

Finally able to rest a bit after drying the clothes, yet it’s already time for lunch.

Cooking for one is a hassle, so she’d nibble on something casually and nap for half an hour, then rise again to start preparing soup and vegetables for dinner.

At five, she’d pick Miles up, accompanied by symphonies of pots and pans, with endless echoes of "Mommy, Mommy" in her ears.

If Adrian came home early, the three of them could dine together.

If he arrived late, she’d read to Miles, bathe him, tuck him in, and still prepare hangover soup for Adrian and wait for him to return.

The last light in the house was always turned off by her.

The one who slept the latest and rose the earliest.

Day after day.

Year after year.

It had been so long since she’d idly paused like this, to truly gaze at the sky above and the streetscape before her.

In just a short moment, the lightness in her heart outweighed the confusion.

Serena walked along with familiar aromas, entering the corner wonton shop.

Thin-skinned, richly stuffed shepherd’s purse and pork wontons.

They were Serena’s favorite.

She often ate them during college, but even after marrying, the alley was too narrow, inconvenient for parking, so Adrian stopped coming after a few visits.

Only when she occasionally missed home did Serena come by for a meal.

"Senior?"

A suspicious voice rang as Serena just received a white porcelain bowl from the gray-haired shop owner.

Turning back, Serena was slightly stunned.

"What are you doing here?"

"What brought you here?"

Both spoke simultaneously.

Serena looked at the handsome man who took a seat across from her, examining him with amusement, "Did you... mistakenly come to the wrong place?"

Every detail of his handmade tailored black suit was immaculate.

The white shirt beneath it shone brightly.

They say clothes make the man, but when Wyatt Hawthorne’s face appeared, everyone had only one word in their minds.

Radiant.

And at this moment, such a dashing man, dressed to the nines, appeared in this cluttered little shop.

Serena only felt a sense of oddity, "You’re not going to tell me you’re here for breakfast."

"If not, then why?"

Wyatt kicked the red plastic stool by the table and directly took a seat, "Coming to a breakfast shop and not eating breakfast, maybe I’m here for work?"

Serena laughed.

Both were Aethelgard University architecture students.

Serena was two years ahead of Wyatt.

Serena hadn’t thought the cool campus heartthrob who once followed her calling her senior would be the Crown Prince of the Hawthorne Family in Aethelgard.

Nor did she expect, years after graduation, they’d meet again in such a simple wonton shop.

She turned to see the black Ferrari at the alley entrance, radiant in the bright morning sun, much like the man himself.

Serena smiled and said, "It’s been years, you seem... unchanged."

Still handsome.

Still cool.

Wyatt’s mood, tense to the extreme, burst like a bubble upon entering the shop and seeing Serena, "You’ve changed quite a lot."

His gaze swept over Serena’s visibly pale face, and Wyatt looked around and furrowed his brows, "Just you?"

"Who else?"

Returning Wyatt’s rhetorical question to him, Serena smiled, "At this time, busy with work or school, everyone has their own tasks. Those who can leisurely sit in a shop having breakfast must be like you, affluent and carefree, or like me, with nothing to do..."

The words ’housewife’ lingered on her lips as she realized she’s about to find work and start anew.

Serena rephrased, "Or just idlers like me."

"But you..."

Wyatt spoke, but was interrupted by the shop owner.

"Coming right up..."

The kind, smiling shop owner placed a white porcelain bowl in front of Wyatt, "Boss, your wontons!"

Serena was taken aback, "Boss?"

"Yes..."

The shop owner smiled gleefully, "The economy hasn’t been great these years. If not for the boss taking a liking to these and buying the shop, I would’ve closed long ago."

The tiny wontons warmed her stomach, comforting her.

The fragrance of shepherd’s purse extended from her mouth to her heart.

Serena suddenly realized she was baffled by the mindset of wealthy people.

Bill Gates wouldn’t pick up a coin at his feet because the time he spends doing so he could earn much more.

The same goes for Wyatt.

Not to mention the vast Hawthorne Corporation.

After nine, when the stock market opens, a mere fingertip in trading could mean millions shifting hands for Wyatt.

Yet he bought such a shop that might not only be unprofitable but possibly cost more.

The initial strangeness of seeing him here surged again, and Serena lowered her head, quietly sipping soup and eating wontons.

Wyatt slowly scooped cilantro from the soup, his first bite of food post-hangover started at the seaweed at the bowl’s bottom, "How have you been recently?"

"Quite good..."

Serena nodded, eating wontons and drinking soup, a gentle smile blossoming on her face, "To be precise... especially good!"

A small tangle of seaweed dangled on the tip of the chopsticks like his current mood.

Wyatt tightened his hold on the chopsticks.

Behind, the shop owner’s cheerful voice rang, "Boss, I saw the news saying you’re getting engaged today! Congratulations!"

He instinctively looked at Serena, seeing the bright smile on her face.

Wyatt’s gaze darkened.

The black haze in his heart pressed down heavily once more.

"Congratulations, Wyatt!"

Serena hesitated for a moment, then said with a smile, "If you don’t mind me being inauspicious, leave me an address and I’ll send my blessings and gift later!"

"Inauspicious?"

Wyatt frowned, "What do you mean?"

She hesitated briefly, thinking it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

Just unsure if Wyatt would mind.

Serena whispered, "Today is my divorce day."

"What?"

Wyatt was stunned, the anxiety and annoyance in his heart froze, coalescing into a volcano ready to erupt in his chest, "Serena, say it again!!!"

Serena.

Serena!!!

Two voices, one from the astonished Wyatt before her.

And the other from the frantic, dying roar.

Serena’s heart skipped, looking at Wyatt in disbelief, "Wyatt..."