CHAPTER 176: CHAPTER 176: HOW CAN YOU BE SURE THEY’RE THE SAME

Jean Ellison stood in front of the elevator, the numbers on the display remained unchanged.

She glanced at the time and decided to take the stairs.

Pushing open the heavy fire door, the stairwell was dimly lit, with a cool breeze coming through the window.

She had just descended half a flight when she stopped.

At the corner of the next flight, someone was standing.

Wearing a pristine white lab coat, standing tall and straight.

It was Simon Sterling.

He had his back to her, talking on the phone.

His figure was slender, shoulder line straight, the white coat spotless, exuding a doctor’s unique sense of cleanliness and detachment.

His voice was magnetic in the vast stairwell, each word clear and resonant.

"Dad, I’ve said it, I won’t marry Miss Ford."

His tone was cold and unwavering.

The voice on the other end of the phone was indistinct, but anger could be sensed.

Simon Sterling listened silently. After a few seconds, he spoke again, his voice deeper.

"I have someone I like, you know that, other than her, I won’t marry anyone else."

The voice on the phone seemed more agitated.

Simon Sterling hadn’t been home for half a month. The last time he went back, he had a big argument with his father at the dinner table.

The voice on the phone was aged, strong-willed, and even somewhat mocking.

"What on earth attracts you to a divorced woman? Our family can’t afford this embarrassment. You only have two options: either accept my decision or cut ties, there’s no third option."

Simon Sterling paused, listening to the roaring on the phone, and said coldly, "Yes, I know you prefer Dean Ford’s daughter. Marrying her would save me a decade of struggle. Once he retires, the dean’s position might be mine, but so what? I don’t need it."

After he finished speaking, he hung up the phone before the other party could respond.

He stood still, his fingers gripping the phone so tightly they turned slightly pale.

He took a deep breath, seemingly to calm his emotions, then turned around.

As soon as he turned, his gaze met Jean Ellison, standing on the landing of the upper stairs, watching him.

They locked eyes across a few steps, the air in the stairwell seemingly stagnant.

A flash of surprise quickly streaked across Simon Sterling’s face, which he then masked with his usual calm, though his gaze was deeper than before.

Jean Ellison looked at him, not avoiding his gaze.

She walked down a few steps, coming to the platform in front of him, blocking his way.

"Doctor Sterling." She spoke, her voice echoing slightly in the stairwell, "Care to talk?"

Simon Sterling glanced at the watch on his wrist, his movements mechanical, his voice steady.

"Okay, I have a twenty-minute break, then I need to make my rounds."

He looked up at her, "Down to the café?"

"No need." Jean shook her head, her gaze sweeping across the empty surroundings, "Here is fine, there’s no one around, it’s convenient for talking."

She paused for a moment, then went straight to the point: "I heard your phone conversation, and I also know about your marriage plans."

Simon Sterling immediately interrupted her, his tone urgent, emotions unhidden.

"I won’t get married, unless it’s to the person I like, otherwise, I’d rather not marry for life."

Jean shook her head, her expression was very calm, out of courtesy.

"I don’t care who you’re going to marry, what I want to say is, there’s no possibility between us, and I don’t want to delay you."

She looked into his eyes, her words clear, each one distinct.

"If you consider me a friend, I’d be glad."

"But if you see me as a crush, I can’t accept that, nor can I give you any response."

She slightly turned her head, avoiding his suddenly sharp gaze, and continued.

"I have a daughter, and a husband."

"Doctor Sterling, you’re already twenty-eight; it’s indeed time to consider marriage."

"Maybe that Miss Ford is a very nice person, perhaps a good match for you?"

Simon Sterling’s lips pressed into a thin line, he looked at Jean Ellison, his eyes stubborn.

"No, I never liked these so-called noble ladies."

"They’re all like carbon copies, rigid, dull, either into foreign literature or involved in the arts."

His voice lowered, suppressing inner emotions.

"The one I like is..."

"I’m also the kind of noble lady you mentioned."

Jean interrupted his unfinished words.

Simon Sterling’s words came to an abrupt halt, he looked at Jean Ellison, obvious astonishment in his eyes.

Facing his gaze, Jean’s tone was calm, yet carried the weight of revealing a truth.

"I’m Claire Caldwell, the biological daughter of Susan Kingston, the eldest daughter of the Caldwell family."

"I used to like foreign literature, particularly Volsk literature. I think Volsk literature gives a sense of warmth, people gathered by the fire in winter, with thick stone walls and heavy snow."

She slightly tilted her head, looking at the stunned Simon Sterling, and asked, "Was Doctor Sterling just about to say he likes me?"

Simon Sterling was rendered speechless.

He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to utter a single word.

He had indeed investigated Jean Ellison’s background, aware it was possibly complicated, but he hadn’t anticipated her being so direct, and being Claire Caldwell. The once illustrious eldest daughter of the Caldwell family.

After several seconds, he found his voice, somewhat dryly defending.

"You’re different from them."

"You said it yourself, I’m different." Jean picked up where he left, her logic clear, "So how can you be sure that Miss Ford is the same as the rigid, boring noble ladies you mentioned?"

Seeing Simon Sterling’s slightly confused expression, her tone softened, with a touch of persuasion.

"Why not go meet her? Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised."

After speaking, she didn’t stay, turning around and continuing down the stairs.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell.

As she reached the door, her hand grasped the cold metal handle, her movement pausing for a moment. She didn’t look back, only leaving a light remark.

"I’m sorry."

Then, she pushed open the door and walked out.

The door to the stairwell closed slowly behind her, sealing off the space inside from the outside.

Simon Sterling stood alone, dressed in a pristine, clean white lab coat, his figure tall and lean, to be precise, athletically lean, like an ice sculpture that wouldn’t melt away.

He slowly raised his hand, pressing hard on his brow.

Sorry...

That was all she wanted to say to him, just a sorry.

He didn’t want to hear that, he wanted to hear that she was willing to be with him, even if it meant running away, wandering the world.

He took out his phone from his pocket, in his email was a draft letter.

Dear Dean Ford:

I am applying to go to the University of Michigan Medical Center for study, with no definite return date, I hope you will approve.

The letter hadn’t been sent.

The woman he loved had returned, so he no longer needed to find an excuse to leave Kingswell City.