Chapter 163

Chapter 163

"What if he wasn't?"

"Either way, calling the police is the better option. They'll investigate and figure out what's going on, then handle it accordingly."

Rebecca shrugged.

Everard reached over and ruffled her hair.

"I thought for sure you'd tell the security guard to let the boy go."

"You think I'm that soft-hearted? Just like—"

Rebecca's reflexive response caught in her throat halfway through. She quickly bit her tongue and swallowed the rest.

"What?"

Everard's eyes narrowed slightly.

Rebecca shook her head.

"Nothing. I thought I would've told the guard to let him go too, honestly. After all, I'm a mother myself. When you see someone else's kid make a mistake, you should be more forgiving."

She didn't quite understand what she was avoiding. She just didn't want to bring up William in front of Everard.

Maybe it wasn't just about not mentioning William to Everard—she didn't want to think about him at all.

The psychological dynamics were incredibly complicated.

It was probably similar to how she didn't want to hear about Everard's ex-girlfriends either.

But what Rebecca didn't realize was that to Everard, her evasion seemed like a cover-up.

William was a complicated presence in Rebecca's life. Everard desperately wanted to accept that reality with grace, but the discomfort in his heart might fool everyone else—it couldn't fool him.

After all, William had truly possessed Rebecca for five years—her youthful innocence and romance, her most genuine love.

Everard stretched, then leaned his head against Rebecca's shoulder.

"I'm going to rest for a bit. Wake me when we get there."

"Okay."

Rebecca responded, straightening her shoulder to support him better.

She clasped Everard's hand and looked out the window.

Time really did change so many things.

The hurdles she once thought she'd never get over were gradually being filled in by the man beside her.

Being able to greet William so calmly was better than meeting him while still carrying past resentment and blame.

...

The car stopped in front of a five-star hotel. Rebecca and Everard got out and walked hand-in-hand into the lobby.

After the staff verified their reservation, the hotel manager personally escorted them to the glass restaurant on the top floor.

The top-floor restaurant had distinctive décor. The transparent glass walls all around made it feel like dining outdoors.

Everard and Rebecca both removed their coats and walked to a relatively secluded spot near the corner.

When the menu arrived, Everard took it and quickly ordered.

Everard had eaten on the plane and wasn't particularly hungry, but Rebecca had barely eaten that morning due to nerves. She'd rushed straight to the airport after the competition, and now she was starving. As soon as the food arrived, she dug in enthusiastically.

Everard drank some red wine, then put on his headphones without saying anything. Rebecca was about halfway through her meal before she had the energy to ask, "What are you watching?"

Everard gestured for her to be quiet.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes, wiped her mouth, and pointed toward the restroom. Everard nodded.

After using the restroom, Rebecca noticed a beautiful young woman touching up her makeup at the vanity.

She looked about the same age as Rebecca, but her features were striking—especially her long lashes, which gave her a doll-like appearance. Her face was delicate and pretty, and somehow familiar.

When Irene noticed Rebecca staring at her, she sized Rebecca up in return, then looked away dismissively.

She tucked her lipstick into her clutch and was about to leave when Rebecca finished washing her hands. After pulling out two paper towels to dry them, she followed Irene out.

Just as Irene pulled the restroom door open, a cleaning woman carrying a bucket of dirty water was about to enter. The sudden opening from inside caught her off guard—the bucket in her hand tilted unsteadily!

The dirty water sloshed out!

It splashed directly onto Rebecca's and Irene's shoes.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Seeing her latest Armani leather boots now covered in dirty water, Irene exploded.

"I'm so sorry!"

The cleaner was a woman in her forties, wearing the hotel's staff uniform. Realizing what she'd done, she apologized profusely.

She knew she'd messed up.

"Sorry? You think sorry fixes this? Is this how your hotel staff cleans? Dumping dirty water on guests' shoes?"

Irene stared at her new boots, then at the middle-aged woman in front of her with disgust.

"I'm so sorry, really. Let me wipe them for you."

The cleaner crouched down to clean Irene's shoes.

When Irene saw the woman approaching her shoes with a dirty rag, she was even more furious!

She jerked her foot away.

"Get away from me! Get your manager over here!"

"What? Ma'am, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Hearing Irene demand the manager—clearly planning to file a complaint—the cleaner's face went pale with panic.

Rebecca, watching Irene's aggressive behavior, frowned and stepped forward to mediate.

"Miss, she's already apologized. Can't you just let it go?"

Hearing someone take the cleaner's side made Irene even angrier. She turned to look at Rebecca.

"She apologizes and I'm supposed to let it go? Why should I?"

"No, I just mean she didn't do it on purpose. You're threatening to complain to the manager and she's terrified. Can't you be gracious and settle this privately without filing a complaint?"

Rebecca said.

Looking at the panicked forty-something cleaning woman who clearly didn't know what to do, Rebecca felt sympathy.

No matter how expensive the shoes were, they were just shoes. She'd been right behind Irene—the collision was pure accident. No one was really at fault.

The cleaner had immediately apologized and shown remorse. It was Irene who seemed to be overreacting, jumping straight to filing a complaint. It showed a lack of grace.

Rebecca usually preferred to mind her own business, but Irene was different—she was spoiled and willful.

If someone ruined her things, they had to pay. Period.

Originally, if the cleaner had offered to replace the shoes, Irene might have let it go.

But this woman who'd appeared out of nowhere, lecturing her like some moral authority, really got under Irene's skin.

After looking Rebecca up and down again, Irene's lips curled into a sneer.

"Playing the saint, are we? Those aren't your shoes that got ruined, so of course you can stand there making snide remarks!"

At that comment, Rebecca quickly pointed to her own feet.

"My shoes got wet too."

Irene let out an even louder snort of derision.

"Your cheap shoes and mine are supposed to be comparable? Do you have any idea these are Armani?"

"Stop right there."