CHAPTER 87: CHAPTER 87: IS THIS... REKINDLING OLD FLAMES?

Ding dong!

Ding dong ding dong!

"Coming..."

Wyatt Hawthorne texted half an hour ago saying he was on his way.

But the noodles were almost overcooked, and still no sign of him.

Serena Sinclair responded and went to open the door, "Anyway, you have..."

As the words fell, Serena stopped.

Standing outside the door wasn’t Wyatt.

It was Adrian Lockwood.

The lead-gray suit’s buttons undone.

The tie hung loosely on the chest.

Adrian Lockwood looked weary and disheveled, his eyes filled with loss, as if he’d suffered a great grievance.

"You..."

"Serena!"

As the door opened, the familiar aroma of noodle soup wafted in.

Adrian Lockwood’s gloomy expression brightened, "Serena, I knew you would remember today is my birthday, I just knew..."

Serena was stunned.

Adrian Lockwood had already stepped inside.

Serena saw Adrian’s back as the door closed behind him.

Wyatt Hawthorne’s steps halted as he exited the elevator.

At the dining table, Adrian Lockwood looked at the birthday noodles, surprised, "Serena, you’ve been waiting for a long time, haven’t you?"

Thin chicken soup noodles, with some green vegetables placed like a crescent on the bowl’s edge.

It seemed they had been waiting for a while, and the noodles appeared a bit overcooked.

Chilled cucumbers.

Spicy beef.

Old vinegar wood ears.

Sour and spicy chicken giblets.

Four small dishes with refreshing colors, making one instantly feel hungry with just a look.

The day’s neglect was soothed at this moment.

Adrian Lockwood reached out to grab the chopsticks.

Stopped by Serena Sinclair.

"Adrian Lockwood, I don’t know who gave you the confidence to think that after a divorce, your ex-wife would still remember your birthday and prepare long life noodles for you."

"But let me responsibly tell you, this isn’t prepared for you."

Serena Sinclair took back Adrian’s chopsticks and put them back on the table, gesturing toward the door, "Can you leave now?"

"Not for me, then for whom?"

Adrian Lockwood asked.

Serena remained silent.

The next step, Adrian approached.

Close enough that he could lean forward, his chin almost touching her nose.

Serena instinctively stepped back.

Adrian Lockwood softly said, "Serena, I know you’re still mad at me. I realize my mistakes; we’re even now, aren’t we?"

"Serena, it’s my birthday today. You said it before, the birthday person’s the most important, and that even if the sky falls, everyone has to be happy today."

"I don’t expect you to coax me, but please, don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?"

The tone was filled with humility.

Adrian Lockwood looked at Serena with pitiful eyes and said, "I’ll leave after eating the birthday noodles, okay?"

The phone dinged.

Serena glanced down.

It was Wyatt Hawthorne.

[Pour it out!]

Before that, she had sent him a picture of the dinner table.

Unclear what Wyatt was up to again.

While Serena was clueless, Adrian began eating the noodles he opened the chair for.

The chicken soup noodles were still warm, the thick soup base.

The originally springy noodles fell softly into the stomach, smoothing out all irritations.

The stress and annoyance of the past few days seemed all diluted by the bowl of noodles.

Before Adrian Lockwood finished the bowl, his phone rang with a demanding tone.

A few friends on the other end asked if he returned from his trip, opened a bottle to celebrate his birthday, and asked when he’d arrive.

Everything seemed back on familiar ground.

"Okay, you guys start drinking... I’ll be there soon!"

Hanging up the phone, Adrian Lockwood looked at Serena Sinclair, "Serena, Brooks and the rest invited me to drink."

Serena had an expression of indifference, "That’s unrelated to me... Can you leave now?"

Adrian Lockwood finished the noodles in a few bites, stood up, went to Serena, and reached to hold her hand, "I brought you a gift, it’s in the car trunk, would you come down with me to get it?"

Bought at a Brackton counter, a crocodile leather bag.

Chloe Lynch sent black and white photos, asking him which color suited her better.

He said white.

But when he went to collect it, seeing the actual black item, his mind instantly went to Serena.

After several extras, he eventually got both in black and white.

Adrian decided that Serena could choose the color she liked to keep.

The other would be Zoe Lockwood’s.

If Serena wanted both, then...

"No need!"

Serena’s rejection interrupted Adrian’s imagination, "Adrian Lockwood, as a couple, let’s part peacefully. Consider this meal as making up for the farewell meal. Please don’t come to my house again!"

Embracing 2S, Serena opened the door, "Please..."

Adrian Lockwood wasn’t angry at all.

He understood Serena.

Serena has a strong personality, particularly prideful.

They’ve known each other from childhood, walked from school uniforms to wedding gowns, with countless tender moments.

But this past half-year, she was hurt by him!

The fact that she still remembered his birthday and was willing to make long life noodles for him was already a huge concession from her.

Expecting her to be gentle and call him ’husband’ again, reminding him to drive slowly and drink less? Impossible.

At least not now.

"Alright!"

Adrian Lockwood said, "Then I’ll have the driver bring it up."

"Adrian, do you not understand human language?"

Serena lashed out angrily.

Adrian’s phone buzzed with constant sound.

As he passed the door, he even reached to touch her face, trying to give her a kiss like he used to, before leaving.

Serena stepped back, looking disgusted.

2S hissed with puffed-up fur.

Adrian retreated, nodded slightly, and strode away while answering calls.

Bang!

As the door closed, the house returned to silence.

Patting 2S’s fur, Serena put it down, moving forward expressionlessly.

Each dish had been touched by chopsticks, but the other bowl of noodles remained untouched.

Serena no longer had the mood to eat, took them to the kitchen, and dumped them into the trash.

In the living room on the 20th floor, Wyatt Hawthorne stood by the window, his face shrouded in darkness.

minutes had passed, and the chat box showed no activity.

Had Adrian Lockwood not left yet?

Or was Serena too busy to respond?

Images in his mind filled with Serena and Adrian sitting opposite each other, Adrian eating noodles with 2S circling them, while Serena nearby laughed with joy.

Wyatt regretted it.

The moment Adrian stepped inside, he should have followed.

Facial recognition opened the door.

Sat at the table before Adrian and ate.

Using actions to show him.

The food on the table was his.

The cat was his.

The woman who cooked was also his.

A momentary lapse missed the best opportunity.

He could only watch Adrian eating the noodles meant for him, petting his kitten, and chatting gaily with his woman.

Time ticked by, Wyatt couldn’t sit still.

Lacking the patience to wait for the elevator, Wyatt took the safe passage, heading straight down to the 19th floor.

Ding dong!

Ding dong ding dong!

The doorbell rang for a long time but no one answered.

Various images filled his mind.

The password lock was only 20 cm away.

He knew the password.

The fingerprints were entered.

The face had been recognized.

If he wanted, he could easily open the door.

But...

Ring ring!

The phone suddenly rang, Wyatt felt like a thief caught red-handed.

Turned away quickly.

Walked to the elevator, the door opened, a man in a black suit and white gloves holding two H-brand gift boxes headed straight toward Serena’s door.

The doorbell rang, after a short wait, the door opened.

With a face as dark as the night outside the window, Wyatt stepped straight into the elevator.

A few minutes later, watched the driver exit empty-handed.

Watched the black Mercedes disappear from view.

Wyatt looked at the soft orange light emanating from the 19th-floor bedroom, his face dark enough to drip water.

What does this mean?

Is this... rekindling an old flame?