CHAPTER 197: CHAPTER 197: THIS RELATIONSHIP FEELS SO SUFFOCATING

As soon as Director Lennon and Teacher Crowe walked in, they saw Holly standing with her back to them at the room entrance.

Upon hearing the noise, she turned around, her body trembling slightly as if startled, appearing somewhat flustered.

"Dad, Mom, you’re back?" Holly greeted them, pretending to be calm.

"Mhm," Director Lennon responded, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before shifting to the slightly messy sofa, his tone revealing no emotion.

Whenever Holly felt guilty, she couldn’t help but fiddle with her hair or clothes.

Teacher Crowe headed to the balcony to collect the laundry upon entering, "I knew Holly would gather the clothes; look, she’s even mopped the balcony floor."

"Didn’t go to the studio today?"

"Yeah, I got back late last night; I’ll go in the afternoon."

"Just got up, right? Have you had breakfast? Should Dad make you something to eat?"

Saying this, he started towards the kitchen.

Holly laughed awkwardly, her guilt evident, "No need, I already ate."

After speaking, she felt as if something was amiss, like she had overlooked something.

And sure enough, the next second, Teacher Crowe pointed at the soup bowl on the table, exclaiming, "Oh my!"

"Our Holly knows how to make noodles now! With shredded meat and eggs too, and it looks pretty good! Our family might actually produce a chef! This bowl of noodles must make it to the New Year’s Eve dinner table, let your dad have a proper taste!"

He showered the bowl of vegetable and shredded meat noodle soup with utterly unprincipled praise.

Holly’s heart instantly leaped into her throat.

Oh no, she forgot to destroy the evidence.

She darted forward, grabbing the noodle bowl before Director Lennon could see it, stuffing it into the sink, turning on the tap for an intense rinse.

"I learned it from a video online. It’s my first time making it; the taste is just so-so, haha, look, my hand even got scalded!"

Quick on her feet, she held out the finger with the burn ointment to shift the focus.

"Oh dear, didn’t get burned, did you? Better not cook next time, just order takeout." Teacher Crowe felt a pang of pity.

Just then, a sharp "clang" echoed from Holly’s bedroom.

All three in the living room turned to look at the firmly closed bedroom door.

Director Lennon appeared intrigued, Teacher Crowe clueless, while Holly felt a chill run down her spine.

"It... it must’ve been the wind just now, I didn’t close the window tightly, and something fell over. I’ll check it out; you do your thing!"

Finishing her sentence, without waiting for their reaction, she twisted the door knob, slipped inside, and shut the door with another "bang."

Once inside, she saw Blake Sinclair standing by her vanity.

At his feet lay a fallen plastic mask storage box, its contents scattered all over.

Seething with annoyance, Holly approached and jabbed his arm, whispering, "You did it on purpose, didn’t you?"

Blake spread his hands, utterly sincere, "I just wanted to help tidy your table and accidentally knocked it over."

"Oh, thank you very much!" Holly gritted her teeth, wishing she could toss him out the window.

Outside the door, Teacher Crowe’s voice rang out, "Holly, your mom and I are heading back to school; the clothes are in the dryer, remember to take them out before you go out."

"Got it!" Holly quickly replied.

Then, the sound of a door opening and closing followed.

Holly exhaled in relief.

Upon hearing the noises of the door opening and closing outside, she turned to push Blake Sinclair, "Alright, time for you to go."

Blake Sinclair sighed silently in his heart.

He wanted a straightforward, open relationship with his wife, yet she was determined to keep it undercover.

This romance was seriously stifling.

With less than three days remaining until the Blue Orchid Cup finals, Holly had almost entirely dedicated her energy to the artwork for the Corinium application exhibition.

Spending her days at Lunar Lotus Studio.

Meanwhile, Blake Sinclair had transformed into a dedicated chauffeur, braving all weather to shuttle her between Glynmere and the studio.

Though this "exclusive car" recently gained an unexpected item.

On the front dashboard lay a ripped-off countdown calendar.

Seven thin pages.

On the top page, large words were written in bright red: Countdown to return to The Grandflora Gardens.

Next to it was a poor stick figure drawing of a man in a suit crouching outside a house.

This evening, the Rolls-Royce pulled up under the Glynmere building.

Blake Sinclair parked the car, reaching for the calendar, ripping off another page with a "tear."

On the calendar, a red number "4" was displayed.

Watching his focused expression, Holly couldn’t help but burst into laughter, "The great President Sinclair, your countdown is more intense than my finals, and quite ceremonial, huh?"

Blake Sinclair turned his head.

The dim streetlamp outside cast a glow across his brows, adding a touch of melancholy.

He pinched her cheek, mock sorrow in his tone, "This is called hope."

"Just a reminder to a certain designer obsessed with art, that in The Grandflora Gardens, there’s a young, vigorous, yet forcibly solitary, legal husband."

"Pfft..."

Holly, amused by his melancholy tone and wording, laughed heartily.

It took her a while to recover, leaning against the seat.

She leaned closer, quickly pecking his lips, "Just a little longer alright, sweetie? Once the Blue Orchid Cup finals results are out, I promise, I will immediately, right away, confess to Auntie Lennon, okay?"

Blake Sinclair took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her waist, preventing her from pulling away.

Forehead resting against hers, voice low, "Holly, why do I feel like you’re one of those ancient scholars; never settling personal matters until you’ve achieved acclaim? So, Top Scholar Crowe, when will you finally let me become official?"

Amused by his comparison, Holly mimicked his usual dignified composure, shaking her head, responding in a pretentious tone, "Sir, do not hurry, all will be revealed in time～"

Before she could finish her sentence, he silenced all her teasing with a punishing kiss.

The kiss was deep and lingering, thickening the air in the car until Holly struggled for breath, gently pushing him away before he reluctantly let go.

He rested his forehead against hers, voice husky, "Shall I walk you upstairs?"

"No way!"

Holly sat up straight immediately, "If my mom catches us, all the effort will be for nothing. You don’t want to fumble at the finish line, do you?"

She pushed open the car door, winking at him as she turned back, "See you tomorrow, Scholar Sinclair."

Watching her retreating figure, Blake Sinclair sighed in resignation, finger brushing over the "4," practically dripping melancholy from his eyes.

Feeling inexplicably restless, he rolled down the car window halfway.

The night breeze swept up the ripped calendar page from the dashboard, landing on his knee.

Just four days left until the title of "Holly’s husband."

Returning home, Holly had just finished typing in the password to open the door when she heard familiar voices coming from the kitchen.

Entering, she noticed an extra pair of men’s leather shoes by the door.

She froze briefly, walking in, only to see Aiden Jenson in a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, helping Teacher Crowe pick celery.

His motions were deft, fingers pinching a celery leaf, snapping it cleanly.

"You’re back?"

Director Lennon approached from the living room, "Perfect timing, go help Aiden with the vegetables in the kitchen; we’re about to eat."

Holly, thoroughly confused, still obediently walked over.

Aiden Jenson smiled gently at her.

He handed her the basket of vegetables, "Just hold the basket, I’ll handle the vegetables."

Holly took the basket, glancing at her parents bustling in the kitchen, then at Aiden focused on his task, feeling something was amiss.

She leaned close to Aiden, lowering her voice, "Aiden, why did you suddenly come over today? Did you need something from me?"

Aiden paused briefly, lifting his head, "Auntie Lennon called me over for dinner this afternoon."

"What?"

Holly was even more bewildered.

So sudden? Why would Director Lennon invite Aiden for dinner without a reason?

During dinner, Director Lennon cleared the seat opposite her, usually occupied by Teacher Crowe, for Aiden to sit.

Throughout the meal, Director Lennon uncharacteristically reminisced about the past.

He spoke of the fun she and Aiden had in childhood, climbing trees for bird nests, catching fish by the river, playing with clay at the ceramics factory, how Aiden took care of and protected her...