CHAPTER 101: CHAPTER 101: DECLAN HAWTHORNE, LOVING YOU IS EXHAUSTING

Looking at the tombstone, Poppy Hale spoke softly.

"I’m sorry, it’s been a long time since I came to see you."

The photo of Mr. Hale still smiled lovingly at her, with gentle, starry eyes.

As if forever, he would look at her this way.

Since Florence was born, Poppy seldom came here.

After Mr. Hale passed away, she cried until she fainted, even suffered from alkaline poisoning several times, and the doctor warned her that if she continued like this, she would have to terminate the pregnancy.

Poppy Hale then realized that Declan Hawthorne had also bought a small bottle of wine.

"I don’t know what uncle liked to drink, is this okay?"

Mr. Hale, being a businessman, wouldn’t refuse drinks at social gatherings, but after he got sick, Poppy surely wouldn’t allow him to drink.

So besides flowers and some snacks, Declan also brought a bottle of wine.

Poppy Hale was a bit surprised.

Declan Hawthorne bent down, half-kneeling, and pulled out the weeds in front of the tombstone with his hands, not feeling the slightest bit that he was lowering himself.

The dust on the tombstone was also wiped clean by him with the tissues from his pocket.

Mr. Hale’s face was spotless.

Poppy Hale tugged on Declan Hawthorne’s arm, "You don’t have to do this, I brought you here because I’m afraid to come alone."

She feared that coming here would fill her mind with all the images of her father when he was alive.

Declan quickly cleared the weeds in front of the tombstone.

He stood up and casually brushed the dust from his hands.

Poppy Hale saw that his palms were scratched by the weeds, leaving many tiny cuts mixed with dust, which made people frown.

It must have hurt.

Yet he didn’t even frown.

Standing beside Poppy Hale, Declan Hawthorne bowed to the tombstone.

He was stopped by Poppy Hale.

"You don’t have to do this, my dad was a very easygoing person, you’d scare him like this."

Her fingers rested on Declan Hawthorne’s wrist, feeling the strong pulse beating under her fingers, a bit erratic.

"With the expression you have now, uncle would be the one who’s scared."

Wanting to cry but couldn’t, with a somber face, looking icy.

Declan Hawthorne would rather Poppy Hale vent her anger at him, say anything she wishes.

She could hit him as many times as she wants, as long as she could let out the breath in her heart.

Poppy Hale tried to smile, but tears slid down her cheeks.

She turned her head to wipe the tears from her face.

She looked at the tombstone, her voice very soft.

"I was hard to raise as a child, a high-demand kid."

"My dad always... spoiled me. I didn’t want to walk on the ground, so he always kept me on his shoulders."

That day at the restaurant.

Declan Hawthorne lifted Florence in such a way that she could sit on his shoulders and view the world from a higher place.

Little Poppy was the same way.

"Back then, I thought my dad had the hardest bones in the world. But when he was cremated, I realized his bones were so soft."

Soft enough to be reduced to ashes in an hour.

Poppy Hale let go of Declan Hawthorne’s wrist, but he noticed something, and he held her hand in return.

His palm was very warm.

Poppy Hale’s tears welled up from the bottom of her eyes and fell on Declan Hawthorne’s hand.

"I love my dad very much, so I won’t stop you from spending time with Florence, rest assured."

She also hoped.

Her daughter could receive the same love from her father as she had.

Declan Hawthorne’s voice was hoarse as he tightened his grip on Poppy Hale’s hand.

"What I want is not just Florence."

Beside them, the wind from the cemetery blew in from all directions, ruffling Poppy Hale’s hair.

Poppy Hale struggled to pull her hand from his palm, but after trying for a while, it would not budge.

She bit her lip and looked up at Declan Hawthorne, "You’re hurting me."

Her eyes were misty, making Declan Hawthorne’s heart ache.

He reflexively loosened his hand.

Poppy Hale pulled her hand back.

"Let’s go, thank you for coming with me today."

There were not many people in the cemetery.

They descended the steps and returned to the car.

Poppy Hale looked out the window at the trees swaying in the wind.

The leaves fluttered, scattered and fell.

She reached out to catch a leaf, remembering what Eugene Lynch had said.

She was given this name simply because her dad wished for her to be free-spirited and carefree.

The other car door closed, Poppy Hale was suddenly pulled back, embraced from behind.

The leaf in her hand fell.

Declan Hawthorne’s lips rested on the back of Poppy Hale’s neck, unmoving.

His arms wrapped strongly around her from behind, the veins on his arms pulsing, as if struggling to suppress some emotion.

"That day, when I said I wanted to break up with you, it was because I received a call from my grandfather."

"He wanted me to return to the Hawthorne Family. I thought I’d break up with you first, then come clean with you."

Poppy Hale calmly said, "You were with me for three years, almost four, you had countless chances to tell me about your identity, but you didn’t."

She didn’t care at all about what Declan Hawthorne’s status was.

A penniless pauper, or the proud and noble eldest son of the Hawthorne Family.

But he cared.

"Declan Hawthorne, I used to like you a lot, it was me who pursued you, it’s normal for you to ignore me. I went abroad because I wanted to take my dad for medical treatment, and at that time, I also found out I was pregnant."

Declan Hawthorne never directly asked whether the child was his.

Poppy Hale told him the answer in other ways.

At this moment, hearing her speak like this, Declan Hawthorne felt as if his heart was being cut by a knife.

The pain was intense.

"Recently, the company wanted to issue childcare allowance, actually I... wanted to find out Florence’s birth date."

"Florence was born prematurely, the due date was in January, but she was born in December. I had her report the birth date as May."

Declan Hawthorne closed his eyes.

"Why didn’t you find me."

"At graduation, I went back once. You just didn’t see me."

This embrace posture was not very comfortable.

Neither of them had the mood to adjust.

The whistling wind blew outside, and Poppy Hale softly said, "You were taking pictures with someone else, with Rachel Rivers."

Declan Hawthorne’s hand suddenly tightened.

On graduation day.

Rachel came to find Mason Rivers, pestering everyone in Mason’s dorm to take photos.

Declan Hawthorne didn’t agree to it, he was standing there looking at his phone.

Rachel stood next to him, taking selfies on her own without him saying anything.

That day, Declan Hawthorne always felt that someone was watching him, but when he looked up, he never captured any shadow.

It turned out to be her, it was her.

"That day, I was thinking if you’d text me. But you had already blocked me."

"I asked your roommates, they said they hadn’t seen you."

Poppy Hale nodded.

"I just went back to get my graduation certificate, I didn’t tell them."

Nearly four years, in Poppy’s life, there were not many friends.

Almost all of it was filled with Declan Hawthorne, fully packed.

The relationship with her roommates was just average.

Declan Hawthorne couldn’t see Poppy Hale’s eyes.

But he knew she must be calm yet sorrowful.

He didn’t dare to look either.

Poppy Hale closed her eyes, her vision blurry, the salty and sour taste making her nasal passages uncomfortable.

"Declan Hawthorne, loving you is a very tiring thing."

"Please let me go."

Declan Hawthorne didn’t speak.

He just didn’t lessen the strength of his arms.

Poppy Hale’s voice, one after another, cutting through his heart.

So painfully he couldn’t breathe.

He originally thought, when Poppy Hale first broke up with him, she married a stranger and had a child.

He was madly jealous of that man, wanting to take revenge on Poppy Hale.

Yet never thought.

The person he wanted revenge on was himself.