CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER 59: STEALING SOMEONE’S GIRL

A few minutes later, the door to Declan Hawthorne’s hospital room was pushed open.

Mason Rivers came in carrying some fruit, and slapped his forehead.

"I forgot that Declan can’t eat fruit because of his stomach ulcer, I bought the wrong thing."

"Declan, are you okay now?"

Declan Hawthorne looked at the fruit basket in Mason’s hand.

He raised his eyebrows and gave a cold glance, "Where did you go?"

Mason paused.

Then he smiled and said, "I just happened to think that Poppy is also in this hospital, so I went upstairs to see her mom, and bought some fruit together on the way?"

Anyone with eyes could see it.

Mason went to see Poppy Hale’s mother, and incidentally, to see Declan Hawthorne.

The two of them locked eyes.

Mason felt a bit guilty inside, but still maintained a composed smile toward Declan.

He had no intention of backing down.

Declan’s expression was visibly unpleasant.

"Stay away from her."

Mason rubbed his nose and placed the fruit beside the bed.

He said frankly, "Declan, you have no right to tell me to stay away from her."

There were words Mason never spoke out loud.

Initially, when he first entered college, he planned to pursue Poppy Hale.

That question about whether Poppy wanted to date him wasn’t a joke.

How genuine he was, only he knew.

They had broken up now.

Declan had no right to make him stay away from Poppy.

In this world, only one person had the right to refuse him.

It was in her hands.

Declan placed a hand over his stomach.

As an emotional organ, it was affected by its owner’s current displeased mood.

A spasm of pain came from his stomach.

The area around his heart felt like it was being gripped, making it hard to breathe, blood flow constricted, forcing Declan to close his eyes as cold sweat poured down.

Allen Shaw opened the bowl of congee on the bedside table.

He lifted the lid, offering it to Declan.

Jokingly, he said, "Miss Hale is really thoughtful. Where could we have thought to get you something like this? Only Miss Hale knows you love this."

Poppy Hale had bought him a bowl of millet congee.

The shop near the hospital added dates to their millet congee, knowing Declan didn’t like dates, she got them to take it out.

You could still smell the dates in the congee, but there was no trace of them.

Declan’s expression softened, Mason’s lips twitched.

He didn’t show much emotion, just forced a smile.

Declan drank a mouthful from the bowl, and with something in his stomach, he felt a lot better.

Without looking at Mason, Declan spoke with a steady voice, "She’s not right for you."

"Declan, this isn’t something you can control..."

Before Mason could finish his sentence, he saw Declan place the plastic bowl aside, take a picture of the congee with his phone, open a pinned conversation on WeChat, and sent it over.

After doing all this, he put his phone away.

He looked at Mason.

"I can’t control it. But Poppy Hale won’t like a playboy."

Mason’s private life wasn’t exactly clean.

In social circles, among rich second generations, whether for entertainment or on a whim, there were always many women around.

Even if those women were just a temporary diversion for Mason.

Nevertheless, it was an undeniable fact that they existed.

The phone screen lit up, and Declan picked it up, looking at the latest message received.

He sent a picture of the finished bowl of congee over.

Poppy Hale: "OK."

Indifferent.

Not even an emoji.

The stomach that had just settled down seemed to twist in pain again, more of a wave-like helplessness.

He opened another, showing the other party had logged out of WeChat.

When replacing his phone, he chose to migrate the data, keeping some chat history for a while.

But because so much time had passed, there wasn’t much there.

Only a few pages.

Flipping through, it was almost entirely Poppy talking, and he selected a few replies in between.

She seemed tireless, always chirping away like a passionate little bird by his ear.

Now, compared to before.

The sense of disparity hung there, leaving Declan momentarily speechless.

He locked the phone screen, seeing that Mason hadn’t left yet, Declan looked at him.

"Go home. If you can’t figure it out later, don’t cooperate with the Hawthorne Group anymore."

The tone was overtly threatening.

Mason smiled bitterly.

As long as Declan wanted, he wouldn’t need to say a word to make the Rivers Family have no place to stand in the entire Arvum.

Yet, he was still unwilling to accept it.

Back then, Poppy chose Declan.

Why now, didn’t he even have a chance to try?

"Declan, what if I change?"

He had no feelings for those models or minor celebrities; it didn’t even count as a show for him.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he got what he wanted, and the other party took resources and money.

Declan gazed at Mason with a light, albeit indifferent smile on his handsome face.

"When I say this, it’s not meddling, it’s not wanting you to disturb her."

"Mason, if you’re really so confident in yourself, why wait until now?"

The blood gradually drained from Mason’s face, turning it ashen in front of Declan.

He gritted his teeth, gave a dejected smile, and looked down at his shoes, with a sighing laugh.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he had to concede.

Declan was right.

Allen found this a bit interesting.

"Didn’t you say anything before because you thought Miss Hale wasn’t divorced yet?"

Mason tugged at the corner of his mouth, smiling a little self-deprecatingly.

The despicable, unseen corners of his mind now had an indifferent clarity.

Frankly, "No, I’m not that moralistic. Whether Poppy has a husband or not doesn’t matter much to me, as long as she’s not Declan’s, it’s all the same."

He just didn’t dare say it.

He knew that once spoken, not only would he be rejected, but it would also tear apart whatever was left of their civility, destroying any chance as friends.

Mason hesitated for a moment.

"Declan, there’s something I have to tell you. Yes, I’ve always liked Poppy, but why was it that although I knew her first, she found you as soon as the school year began?"

"After that, you dated, and I waited. Every time I asked if you liked Poppy, and you denied it..."

Declan suddenly seemed to realize something, abruptly lifting his head to look at Mason.

Mason resisted the pressure and said the second half of the sentence, "I told Poppy every time you said you didn’t like her."

"How many times you said you didn’t like her, I told her just as many times."

Mason knew.

He was despicable, like a creepy rat hiding in the shadows, peering at others’ happiness, wanting to destroy that happiness.

"Back then, I really thought you didn’t like her, I wanted her to see clearly..."

The voice grew smaller.

Declan restrained his urge to burst out in rage, and veins bulged on the back of his hand, like a range of trembling peaks.

"Get out."

He gritted his teeth and repeated, "Mason Rivers, get out!"

The fruit basket Mason brought was thrown to his feet by Declan.

Fortunately, the fruits were bound together and didn’t roll out.

Even when it hit Mason’s foot, he didn’t flinch.

Mason took one last look at Declan.

He left the hospital room, and before leaving, casually placed the fruit basket at the nurse’s station.

Inside the hospital room, Declan’s chest heaved up and down.

Declan didn’t even know how many times he had said he didn’t like her during those years.

But he knew.

Poppy Hale remembered for sure.