Chapter 85 Tony and I Both Hope You Can Witness Our Happiness
Arabella casually asked, "How are things between you and Mr. White lately?"
Alexander visibly froze at her words.
What did she mean by how things were between him and Blake? They'd been friends for years, so naturally they got along well, but it wasn't like they contacted each other constantly.
A horrifying thought suddenly struck him—did she think... he and Blake were...?
Disgusting.
His expression shifted several times before he finally managed to squeeze out, "...Pretty good."
Arabella relaxed, smiling as she said, "Mr. White seems like a nice guy. I'm sure you two will make it work this time."
Alexander was a seasoned player in the business world, capable of executing all kinds of schemes and strategies, but when it came to romance, he was genuinely a novice. Seeing the concern in Arabella's eyes, he suddenly had an epiphany.
He instinctively started playing the victim. "Actually, whether we end up together doesn't matter anymore. As long as I can say I gave my heart honestly, even if we don't make it, I'll wish him nothing but happiness."
Hearing this, Arabella immediately tensed up. She left the shrimp simmering in the pot and turned to him. "Why are you suddenly saying this? Are you two facing some kind of difficulty?"
When Alexander and Blake helped her with the Watson family lawsuit, they seemed perfectly fine together!
How could things have changed in less than a month?
Alexander caught the worry in her eyes and suddenly cracked the code of love. He lowered his head, his usually magnetic voice sounding dejected.
"Maybe this kind of love that breaks social conventions is still too difficult for him. But I don't blame him—society is what it is. I shouldn't dare hope for real happiness."
Seeing his dejected state, Arabella's maternal instincts kicked into overdrive. Her heart ached for him as she quickly comforted him. "He doesn't know how to appreciate someone as wonderful as you. That's his fault, not yours. You're amazing—you'll definitely find happiness."
Alexander responded with a sad murmur.
He usually carried himself with confidence, and combined with his good looks and impeccable style, he looked like a movie star just standing there. But today, with his head down and that dejected expression, he radiated such profound sadness that any woman would find it unbearable.
Arabella couldn't help herself—she reached out and pulled him into a hug, gently patting his back as she said in a tender voice, "I understand, I get it. Don't be sad anymore. Time heals everything. You deserve so much better."
Alexander restrained the urge to wrap his arms around her, resting against her soft, petite shoulder for a moment before pulling away with admirable self-control. He understood the principle of not overdoing it.
He smiled at Arabella with forced cheerfulness. "It's all in the past. Let's not talk about it anymore. People need to look forward. Let's cook dinner first."
Watching him force that smile, Arabella felt even worse. Such a wonderful man like Alexander—why did he keep running into jerks?
It was bad enough that she'd encountered scumbags, but male relationships were supposed to be so pure. How was Alexander also stuck dealing with terrible men?
Apparently, love really had nothing to do with gender.
Alexander's manipulation was clearly working. Arabella's entire attitude toward him changed—not only did her voice become much gentler, but she was also especially attentive during dinner.
Worried that Alexander might lose his appetite from heartbreak, Arabella kept piling food into his bowl and racked her brains for conversation topics to distract him.
Fortunately, it worked well. Alexander quickly returned to his usual self while chatting and eating with her, which finally put Arabella at ease.
To comfort Alexander, Arabella—who normally wasn't much of a drinker—even opened a bottle of red wine. The two sat by the window with their glasses, chatting random topics while enjoying the night breeze.
Arabella talked about her childhood, her eyes holding a hint of nostalgia. "I remember when Majestic City wasn't nearly this developed. Back in middle school, we'd get out early on Friday afternoons, and my parents would pick me up together. We'd go to this little restaurant a few blocks away for fried crickets. Have you ever had fried crickets?"
Alexander looked down at the red wine in his hand, the deep crimson liquid catching the warm lamplight and refracting beautiful colors through the glass. He suddenly remembered a long time ago when a little girl had stood before him just as enthusiastically, holding a big plate of fried crickets and asking, "Have you ever had fried crickets?"
He hadn't eaten them then—a whole plate of dark brown, fragrant insects had made him somewhat resistant, and he couldn't bring himself to take the plate.
How had he come to love that food later? It seemed like after leaving Majestic City, when no one was chasing after him, urging him to "try just one bite, just one more," he'd started craving them desperately.
Fried crickets were hard to find abroad. Those two years, he'd gone to great lengths to get them, but when he finally did, they never tasted as good as the ones that little girl had forced into his mouth.
His stubborn persistence in eating them again and again was probably just so he could remember that bright, cheerful face while eating.
Seeing his silence, Arabella assumed he'd never tried them and comforted him. "That's okay. Cricket season is coming up soon—I'll buy some for you to try."
Alexander looked up, his deep eyes meeting hers as the corner of his mouth curved slightly. "I have tried them."
Arabella laughed in surprise. "You've actually had them?"
But then she thought about it and understood. "Right, you're from Majestic City. Of course you'd have tried them."
Alexander looked at her. They sat close together, the lamplight illuminating even the freckles on her face clearly.
She looked exactly the same, yet everything had changed.
He'd come too late after all.
Alexander raised his glass with double meaning. "The future is long. Here's to our future."
Thinking he'd finally moved on from Blake, Arabella happily clinked glasses with him. "To our future!"
The open window made it a bit chilly, so they moved to the living room with lingering conversation. The apartment wasn't large—just two bedrooms and a living room, maybe six hundred square feet—so naturally the living room wasn't spacious either. The sofa certainly couldn't be very big.
Sitting together on the sofa, they nearly filled it completely, bringing them quite close.
Arabella had no guard up whatsoever. After all, in her mind, Alexander was gay and wouldn't be interested in women—plus he was a recently heartbroken gay man. What was there to be cautious about?
She brought up another matter. "The orphanage director called me. The adoption paperwork is almost complete, so I can start preparing. I estimate I'll be able to bring the child home in about a month."
Alexander's relaxed posture stiffened slightly at these words.
Adoption procedures were complicated—he'd thought it would take much longer. He hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
But thinking it over, she'd been divorced for almost three months now, and she'd started the process before the divorce. It really hadn't been that short.
It was just that he felt it was short—like there was never enough time.
He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but ultimately didn't voice them. Instead, he just asked, "What are your plans?"
Arabella had actually planned this out long ago and had been looking for a chance to tell him. "I'm planning to buy a small house nearby. I have over eight million dollars now, which should be enough for a house in this area. Molly is already eight years old—it's not convenient for her to stay at your place."
Molly was the child she wanted to adopt.
After moving out, she'd also take care of the divorce paperwork.
This marriage that had come about through a series of misunderstandings would finally come to an end.
But Arabella had long considered Alexander a friend, so ending the marriage didn't affect her feelings much. They could always get together from time to time afterward.
Alexander's heart sank, though. She wanted to move out, she wanted to divorce—everything he'd schemed for was about to fall apart.
An unprecedented panic rose in his chest. Without the advantage of proximity, what if she fell for another man? What if she started keeping her distance from him?
His palms grew sweaty as Alexander's mind raced, though his expression remained perfectly composed. He smiled and said, "That works. Houses aren't easy to find though. You can stay here until you find one."
After a pause, he added seemingly casually, "Molly is a girl who's just recovering from losing her family. You need to pay attention to her mental health too. The absence of a father figure has a big impact on girls, especially when she's approaching puberty."
Hearing this, Arabella immediately became concerned. Right—how had she forgotten? When she'd visited Molly before, the girl had revealed her longing for a happy family, asking about adoptive fathers more than once when Anthony was still in the picture.
Molly definitely wanted to live in a complete family.
Thinking it over, she felt somewhat ashamed as she said to Alexander, "You're right to remind me. I probably can't divorce you right now—at least not until the child feels settled in a home with both parents present. Alex, would that cause you trouble?"
Alexander struggled to suppress the smile tugging at his lips, maintaining a serious expression. "How would that cause me trouble? You know my sexual orientation—I might never get to experience family happiness. I'm grateful you're giving me this opportunity."
He was getting quite skilled at claiming to be gay.
Arabella still felt embarrassed. "We'll see how it goes. If Molly can accept it, I'll still move out with her. If her emotions are unstable, we'll stay a bit longer. I'll pay extra rent."
Alexander nodded calmly on the surface while secretly texting Roy to keep tabs on all nearby property listings.
No matter what, he couldn't let her move out. He'd finally gotten close to her—he'd have to be crazy to voluntarily push her away.
Though she had no interest in romance right now, he had to ensure that when she was ready to date again someday, he'd be the first candidate.
Arabella had no idea about Alexander's thoughts. She felt quite guilty toward him and texted Philip that night while lying in bed. "Philip, are you free this weekend? I want to visit the orphanage."
Philip replied quickly. "Sure! I wanted to go last week, but you'd just returned to work and were swamped, so I didn't mention it. I thought you'd need more time!"
Arabella smiled as she typed back. "You've already established yourself. You don't need to work overtime so frantically anymore."
After a while, Philip called her directly, opening with, "Arabella, I need to tell you something. Don't cry, okay?"
Arabella was confused. "Why would I cry? What's going on?"
Philip was quiet for a moment. "Anthony is marrying Cassidy at the end of this month. My dad received an invitation."
He quickly added, "But don't worry—I definitely won't go with my dad. I absolutely won't betray you!"
Arabella was initially stunned, then laughed softly. "What does his marriage have to do with me?"
Hearing her indifference, Philip relaxed. "That's good. I was worried you'd take it hard."
He'd been agonizing all day about whether to tell her.
Arabella laughed genuinely. "I'm already divorced from him. His business has nothing to do with me. He can marry whoever he wants. Besides, I got married before he did—we didn't lose this round."
Philip laughed too. "I'm relieved you see it that way."
After hanging up, Arabella lay in bed looking dazed, but not from lingering feelings for Anthony. She just felt like she was finally saying goodbye to that part of her past.
Whatever. He was irrelevant now—no point thinking about him.
Arabella wanted nothing more to do with the Watson family, but they kept inexplicably seeking her out. The night after learning about Anthony and Cassidy's wedding, Cassidy actually came looking for her.
Arabella ran into Cassidy when she went downstairs for lunch. She'd planned to ignore her and walk away, but Cassidy blocked her path, smiling sweetly. "Arabella, Tony and I are getting married. Here's the invitation."
She pulled an exquisite, ornate red invitation from her expensive purse and held it out. "You'll come, won't you, Arabella?"
Arabella didn't reach for it, looking at her instead. "Ms. Sanders, do you really want me there?"
Cassidy's face stiffened, her smile nearly faltering.
Anthony had been very cold toward her lately. Those photos of her with Sawyer remained a thorn in his heart. Though he'd decided to marry her because of the baby, she knew everything was quietly changing.
Since that incident, Anthony hadn't made any intimate gestures toward her. He not only rejected her advances but wouldn't even eat the meals she personally cooked for him.
Jennifer also looked down on her, complaining that she didn't do housework or cook. The family had hired several new servants because of this, and Jennifer blamed it all on her.
But she felt wronged too. The Watson family had such a massive fortune—why should she do housework? Jennifer could drop hundreds of thousands at auction houses without blinking, yet begrudged hiring help?
But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst was discovering that Anthony had been going into his study late at night recently.
She didn't know what was in there, but once she'd seen Anthony looking at photos of Arabella.
She'd never considered Arabella a threat before, but now she felt an unprecedented sense of crisis.
So she'd taken it upon herself to seek out Arabella.
But she hadn't expected Arabella to show no distress whatsoever upon seeing the invitation.
How was that possible? Having missed out on someone as outstanding as Anthony, how could Arabella be unmoved?
Cassidy bit her lip, speaking softly. "Arabella, this was Tony's idea too. We both hope you'll witness our happiness in person."