CHAPTER 143: CHAPTER 143: WE CAN BE FRIENDS, RIGHT?

In the coffee shop, Clara Sterling and Julian Hawthorne sat facing each other.

The man was dressed in a white shirt, his features gentle, and a faint smile lingered at the corners of his lips, giving off an impression as gentle and calm as ever, like a soft breeze.

"I didn’t expect you to be President Sheffield’s wife," Julian Hawthorne spoke first.

The man’s voice carried a trace of bitterness that was hard to notice.

Clara gently stirred the coffee before her and smiled slightly, "Sorry, I didn’t want to make it public before due to work reasons."

"There’s no need to apologize to me, you did nothing wrong," Julian Hawthorne gazed quietly at the woman in front of him with his beautiful peach blossom eyes, his voice gentle.

Clara pursed her lips, momentarily unsure of what to say.

Should she ask him why he resigned?

Her intuition told her it was related to last night’s official announcement, but she found it hard to ask.

If Julian really said it was because of the announcement, it would be awkward for her.

Better not to ask.

Clara found a topic, "I didn’t know President Hawthorne is also from Ardendale."

"Didn’t you know already?" Julian replied warmly, "Anabelle Spencer should have told you, right?"

Clara was momentarily surprised.

"You know Anabelle is..."

"I only found out not long ago."

"Then did you return to Ardendale to prepare for an alliance with the Spencer Family?"

Julian gently shook his head, "No, I went back to take over the family business."

The company he referred to was the one founded by his mother, Catherine Montague, not the Hawthorne Family’s company.

His relationship with the Hawthorne family still hadn’t improved.

The head of the Hawthorne family was a tough nut to crack, a patriarchal enforcer who couldn’t tolerate his grandson not listening to him, never willing to compromise.

Yet Julian wasn’t the kind to be manipulated, appearing gentle and cultured, with a calm demeanor as if he had no temper.

But in truth, his character was similar to Silas Sheffield’s in some ways, having his ideas and wouldn’t easily change his decisions.

Similarly, once he liked someone, he wouldn’t easily change his heart.

He liked Clara Sterling but wouldn’t ignore morality to break her marriage.

But staying at Sheffield to work for his rival in love, he couldn’t do that.

So leaving was the best choice.

Clara nodded gently, "That’s also good, I wish you all the best in the future."

These were words of farewell.

Clara thought they probably wouldn’t meet again in the future, treating it as saying goodbye to a friend.

However, Julian didn’t see it that way.

After taking over the family business, he was bound to engage with the Sheffield Group.

Clara, now openly acknowledged as the wife of the Sheffield president, would frequently attend banquets and receptions with Silas Sheffield.

They were likely to meet often in the future.

Julian asked, "How are things between you and him... are they good?"

He could see Thea Tate’s feelings for Silas Sheffield.

At the mention of Silas, Clara’s eyes softened with affection, and her smile turned sweet.

"We’re very good together."

Julian’s fingers curled slightly.

The image of Silas holding Clara in the hallway kissing suddenly flashed into his mind.

His breath slightly halted, and he spoke softly, "That’s good."

After a moment’s silence, Julian gathered himself, smiled slightly, and said, "If you ever need help from me in the future, feel free to ask. We can be friends, right?"

Julian said this mainly considering Thea Tate and Isaac Sutton.

Thea’s feelings for Silas were well known.

The Tate family in Crestwood, backing her, if Thea were to go against Clara, would Silas truly be able to protect her completely?

Julian said these words with utmost sincerity.

He was genuinely concerned that Thea might bully Clara in the future and worried that Silas might not wholly be on Clara’s side.

After all, in his position, Silas had a lot to consider, and the Sheffield and Tate families had a long-standing relationship.

Clara wasn’t aware that Julian was serious, thinking he was just being polite, she smiled and nodded, "Yes, we are friends."

They chatted like friends, not noticing someone on the street outside raising a phone to take pictures of them.

The coffee shop was located on the first floor of a bustling commercial area.

Julian and Clara were seated by the window.

Thea Tate, after work, came by to shop and happened to see them.

...

On the way back, Julian received a call from his friend Ian Kane.

As soon as he connected, Ian’s incredibly shocked voice came through the phone.

"The announcement of the Sheffield president last night went viral online. I saw the live footage, wasn’t that girl the one you liked? She’s actually the wife of Silas Sheffield?"

Julian frowned slightly and gave a response.

"That’s too outrageous! You have such bad luck, finally liking a girl, and it turns out she’s already taken, and she’s the wife of Sheffield’s president no less."

Julian was driving and didn’t respond.

Ian continued jabbering, "I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that video. I’d never even heard that Silas Sheffield was married, how did he suddenly announce a wife..."

Julian still didn’t say anything.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Ian asked, "Is there no signal on your end, hello?"

"I can hear you," Julian replied helplessly, "I’ve already resigned from Sheffield, heading back to Ardendale tomorrow."

"Huh? So sudden." After a pause, Ian added, "Well, I almost forgot you are the fourth young master of the Hawthorne family, not an ordinary worker. I happen to be heading to Ardendale in a few days too, let’s catch up then."

"Okay." Julian replied calmly, "If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up first, I’m driving."

"Alright." Before hanging up, Ian still comforted Julian, "Buddy, keep your mind open, there are plenty of fish in the sea. With a face like yours and such a good family background, there’s no woman you can’t find."

Julian didn’t waste words with him, "Hanging up."

...

Returning home, Clara pushed open the door, and the air was filled with a faint scent of tobacco.

Clara slightly furrowed her brows.

Silas smoked?

In her memory, Silas rarely smoked; the last time she caught him smoking was months ago.

Clara walked in to see a man standing by the floor-to-ceiling window with his back to her, holding a cigarette with glowing embers between his long fingers.

"I’m back," Clara stepped forward, "Why are you smoking? Are you in a bad mood?"

Silas turned around, two buttons undone on his black shirt collar, looking relaxed yet somewhat unruly, and his deep, narrow eyes under gold-rimmed glasses showed no emotion.

"Where did you go?" His voice was cold, revealing no hint of happiness or anger.