CHAPTER 81: CHAPTER 81: THE WOMAN WHO BROUGHT ME BACK TO LIFE

Entering the metro station.

Not yet through the security gates.

She took out her phone, preparing to find the QR code page for her metro card, when she saw the message on it.

There was another line following it.

"It’s an urgent order, so more money should do it."

It seemed that Declan Hawthorne had even looked into the commission process.

Poppy Hale roughly calculated the remaining commissions she had recently.

Aside from a few that also used financial persuasion to require scheduling in advance.

Declan Hawthorne’s, on the other hand, was the highest-paying and the simplest to draw.

The commission request from Declan Hawthorne surfaced in her mind.

Poppy Hale’s face flushed red instantly.

She put the phone back in her pocket, turned around into the convenience store at the metro station, bought a bottle of ice water, and pressed it against her face.

Lowering the heated temperature.

Only then did Poppy Hale take out her phone to respond to him.

"I have to go to the hospital today and pick up my daughter. I don’t have time."

Holding his phone, Declan Hawthorne typed on the screen.

"Come out. I’ll give you a lift."

"There’s still time."

Poppy Hale unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water.

The ice water flowed down, thoroughly cooling her down, and the feverish emotion stirred by her imagination improved significantly.

In college, she even sketched nude models.

Since she had already taken this order, she should just finish it quickly.

A moment later, Poppy Hale opened the door of Declan Hawthorne’s car parked by the roadside.

He was wearing a Bluetooth headset, on a call managing work. Seeing Poppy Hale get in the car, he nodded his finger at her.

She was so familiar with him, no need for words, Poppy Hale could understand his meaning with just a small gesture.

She handed him the quality inspection report she picked up from the supplier earlier.

They coordinated seamlessly.

Someone on the other end said something, and Declan Hawthorne glanced at Poppy Hale, replying to them in low Russian.

Poppy Hale couldn’t understand Russian.

But she vaguely sensed that Declan Hawthorne was likely talking about her.

And his mood seemed quite good.

Russian has a few tremolo sounds, spoken well, it sounds like guitar strings being plucked, stirring not just those strings.

Poppy Hale turned her head, pressing the bottle of mineral water in her hand to her face.

She didn’t look at him again.

The partner on the phone teased, "Who has come to your side, reviving your voice all at once?"

Europeans, it’s hard not to be exaggerated.

"Was my voice dead before this?"

The other side didn’t answer directly.

"My businesslike attitude and seeing my charming Takasa are different."

Declan Hawthorne said, "Would you believe it if I said she’s the woman who can bring me back to life?"

"Oh!"

The voice on the other end was extremely astonished, like special effects in a movie.

"Then I won’t disturb you, go live on!"

The call ended quickly.

Poppy Hale saw the man take off his Bluetooth headset, and turned to ask, "Am I affecting your business talks?"

Actually, the work discussion had already wrapped up.

She had arrived when it was nearing the end.

Declan Hawthorne squinted slightly.

"Yes, so you should compensate me."

Poppy Hale was momentarily speechless, raising her eyes to look at him, her slightly frowning brows expressing disbelief.

Wasn’t it him who called her over? She came, and now he said she disturbed his work?

"How do I compensate?"

The corners of his mouth curved up, and the car drove out from the parking spot.

"It’s no trouble, since you interrupted my call, next time I’ll call you, and you can’t hang up for five minutes."

What kind of compensation is that?

The confusion was written on Poppy Hale’s face.

To those not familiar, her demeanor might seem distant and cold, hard to approach, with a detached aura a thousand miles away.

But those who knew her understood that Poppy Hale’s heart was quite simple.

At this moment, looking at him, she seemed dazed.

Declan Hawthorne reached out, tapping her perky nose.

"This is the expression your daughter has when she listens to English picture books."

His action was quick.

Before Poppy Hale could react, he had already retracted his hand.

The car drove for a while.

"By the way," Declan Hawthorne tossed his phone into Poppy Hale’s lap, "Heather Underwood wants to add your WeChat, find her in my list and forward her account to you."

When they chatted briefly last time, Poppy Hale found that Heather Underwood had a good personality, straightforward, without any scheming, a simple and sincere person.

Poppy Hale had no intention of making friends, but knowing one more person wasn’t bad.

Declan Hawthorne focused on driving and couldn’t check his phone conveniently.

His phone had no case, nor any protective film, presumably preferring the feel of a bare phone, not worrying about scratches or dings.

A six-digit password.

Poppy Hale softly said, "President Hawthorne, how about you unlock it yourself for me?"

"It’s the same old password."

Poppy Hale froze for a moment.

The old password was one she had whimsically insisted on changing for Declan Hawthorne.

It was the same as her phone’s unlock code.

She had jokingly named it, saying the passwords should be like a couple’s.

Back then, Declan Hawthorne wasn’t too happy, but he went along with it.

Had he not changed it all these years?

Poppy Hale bit her lower lip, entering the password to unlock the phone.

Opened his WeChat.

Only to see at the top, a pinned WeChat chatbox.

It displayed, the account had been deleted.

Why would he have a pinned chat with a deleted account?

Finding Heather Underwood’s account, Poppy Hale sent her own WeChat to her and was about to put his phone back.

But she accidentally tapped on that pinned WeChat.

The messages inside stopped at the other person recalling a message, and Declan Hawthorne had replied with a question mark.

Above that, there were scattered bits of dialogue.

Not many words, but enough for Poppy Hale to recognize.

It was the WeChat account she deleted, the one she used when dating, pinned on Declan Hawthorne’s phone.

Back then, Declan Hawthorne would casually show her his phone.

She used to see many people messaging him daily, he wouldn’t reply, but also didn’t explain much.

Once, there was a girl who sent too many messages.

Declan Hawthorne replied, "I have a girlfriend."

The other party said, "I know, but you’ve never posted a picture of her, is it because she’s not presentable?"

After that, Declan Hawthorne didn’t reply.

He also deleted the girl.

But Poppy Hale always remembered.

Things she thought she forgot would rush back like a tide, whenever traces of the past appeared.

Enough to overwhelm her.

Exiting WeChat, she locked the phone and put it back.

Someone prone to motion sickness would feel worse using a phone in the car.

Poppy Hale propped up her head, looking out the window, using the wind blowing in to calm her mood.

In her heart, she silently made a decision.

Once Mrs. Hale recovers, she will find a more relaxed job.

At worst, she’ll become a full-time illustrator, able to support her mother and daughter, spending more time together as a family.

The most important thing is.

She needs to distance herself more from Declan Hawthorne.

In the past, Poppy Hale thought seeing him from afar was enough.

But now, his attitude was ambiguous, sometimes making Poppy Hale think he might just be interested for certain reasons, seeking her out because of needs.

She feared staying by his side too long would make her unable to resist falling again.

Unable to refuse him time and again.

Poppy Hale, you need to wake up.