Yvonne Lewis slid a bank card over. "This is a little something from your Uncle Vance and me. There's two hundred thousand in it, and the PIN is your birthday."
"I don't want it."
Holly Winslow looked her straight in the eye. There was no hint of sadness on the other woman's beautiful, mature face.
'I knew this would happen. What was I even hoping for?'
Holly Winslow suddenly linked her arm through Wyatt Winslow's, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Dad can support me just fine," she said affectionately.
"Right, Dad?"
She grinned at Wyatt Winslow, revealing a set of neat, white teeth.
Wyatt Winslow froze, completely taken aback. He had thought she would blame him when she found out.
He looked at Yvonne Lewis. "Take it back. Holly is my daughter. I won't let her want for anything."
Hearing his words, Holly felt her eyes start to sting. In her past life, when she'd learned Yvonne Lewis was going abroad, she'd flown into a rage and screamed at him, blaming him for everything, blaming him for the divorce.
In her previous, smooth-sailing life, Wyatt Winslow was the only person she had truly let down.
...
After leaving the café, Wyatt and Holly Winslow started the drive home. Partway there, Wyatt, who was driving, suddenly reached for the pack of cigarettes in the car. He had a cigarette halfway out when he caught sight of Holly in his peripheral vision and put it back.
Wyatt Winslow never smoked in front of her. He wouldn't even take out the pack.
'He must be in a really bad mood.'
A lump formed in Holly's throat. Pretending not to notice, she picked up the cigarette pack and the lighter, smiling. "Dad, let me light it for you. I've never done it before."
With a CLICK, the cigarette lit. The smell of tobacco immediately filled the air, acrid and overpowering.
It made her eyes water.
She handed it to Wyatt. "Here, Dad. But don't smoke too much. It's bad for you."
Wyatt saw her red-rimmed eyes, pulled the car over to the shoulder, took the lit cigarette from her hand, opened his door, and stepped out.
He was back a moment later. As he started driving again, he said in a scolding tone, "Girls shouldn't be touching cigarettes." His breath didn't smell of tobacco.
'He clearly hadn't smoked it.'
Holly chuckled. "I know, Dad."
As they passed a local market, Holly asked Wyatt to stop. "Dad, let's buy a fish to take home. I'll make you some braised fish."
She rarely cooked. When she was little, her family had a housekeeper who did the cooking. In high school, Wyatt was usually the one who cooked. After she got married, Mortimer Quincy had done the cooking.
Wyatt didn't say anything. He found a nearby parking spot, and the two of them began to wander through the market, one walking in front of the other.
Wyatt was walking a little ahead, so Holly quickened her pace, caught up, and linked her arm through his. "Dad, you're walking too fast," she complained. "You didn't even wait for me."
Wyatt froze for a second. When he recovered, he didn't say anything, but he did slow his pace.
When they left the market, their hands were full of groceries and fruit.
...
On the table was a plate of braised fish, a dish of green vegetables, and a large bowl of soup.
Holly picked up a piece of the braised fish with her chopsticks. It tasted pretty good. She then picked out a choice piece of fish for Wyatt.
"Dad, come on, try the fish I made. It's really good."
Seeing the expectant look in her eyes, Wyatt gave a faint smile. He ate the piece of fish. "It's alright."
"Dad, can't you praise me a little more than that?" Holly pouted.
Wyatt uttered a single, emotionless word. "Delicious."
Holly immediately burst out laughing. "Dad, that's not how you praise someone! It's so half-hearted."
Seeing her laughing so happily, Wyatt's expression softened. "Hurry and eat. It won't be good if it gets cold."
...
After dinner, Holly went back to her room and worked on her homework for a while before getting a call from Iris Kensington.
"Hello? Ellie."
"Holly, let's go to the amusement park tomorrow!"
"What made you think of going to the amusement park?"
"Oh, I just feel like it."
Holly thought for a moment. She remembered that Mortimer Quincy was supposed to go over her test with her tomorrow.
Ahem... 'Truth be told, she just wanted to spend time with Mortimer.'
"I can't go. I still have homework to finish."
"Aww, come on, Holly! It's no fun if we're missing someone."
Worn down by Iris's pleading, Holly finally agreed. Then she asked tentatively, "Can I invite my cousin?"
She quickly added an explanation. "I was originally supposed to do homework with my cousin. It wouldn't be right to just ditch him to go have fun." She felt her own conviction waver as she spoke.
'If I'd known other people were coming, I would never in a million years have suggested bringing Mortimer.'
The other end of the line went quiet for a few seconds. "That makes sense," Iris said. "In that case, I'll dress up tomorrow. Maybe I can even get a picture with your cousin, hehe."
"In your dreams," Holly huffed, not feeling the least bit jealous. Nope, not at all.
After hanging up, Holly called Mortimer Quincy.
"Hey, wifey." The young man's voice was low and raspy, in that phase of breaking. It wasn't unpleasant; on the contrary, it had a captivating, magnetic quality.
Through the phone, Holly thought she could hear the sound of running water. "Are you taking a shower?"
"Mhm."
"You finish up first. Call me back when you're done."
"What is it, wifey?"
"I'm going to the amusement park with Ellie tomorrow. Do you want to come?"
"I'll go."
With his confirmation, Holly hung up and went back to her homework.
After finishing her homework, she pulled out her freshman textbooks and began studying them earnestly. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, she yawned. A glance at the little yellow clock on her desk showed the hour hand pointing to one.
She tidied up her books and went to bed.
She was jolted awake by her phone ringing at eight or nine the next morning. Her hair a tangled mess, she answered, "Hello?"
"Holly, I'm at your front door."
Hearing Holly yawn, Iris pouted. "Holly, don't tell me you're not even up yet?"
"Come on up and wait a few minutes. I'll be ready really quick."
Holly hung up, yawned again, and got up to find an outfit: a white sweatshirt and black pants.
Her closet was full of these kinds of casual sweatsuits. Wyatt had bought them all, probably because he didn't know how to pick out clothes and just bought complete sets.
Just as she stepped out of her bedroom, she heard a knock. Wyatt, who was on the sofa reading the newspaper, got up to open the door.
Seeing it was Wyatt, Iris greeted him meekly, "Uncle Winslow."
"Mhm, come in." After she stepped inside, Wyatt closed the door and returned to the sofa.
"Ellie, have a seat. I'm just going to brush my teeth," Holly said before disappearing into the bathroom to get ready.
Iris, terrified of being left alone with Wyatt, quickly followed her. "Holly," she whispered with a pained expression, "Uncle Winslow is home and you still told me to come up!"
She kept her voice to a whisper.
Holly smiled and spit out a mouthful of toothpaste foam. "He's not going to eat you," she joked.
Wyatt always wore a stern expression. Pretty much every kid who'd ever met him was afraid of him.
After coming over once or twice, Iris and Anna Willow didn't dare visit again unless they knew for sure Wyatt wasn't home.
"Holly, is Uncle Winslow going to let you go out?" Iris thought of another potential problem.
She and Anna both knew that Holly and Wyatt didn't have a good relationship.
Holly nodded. Wyatt was strict with her, but he never restricted her from going out to have fun.
A few minutes later, Holly and Iris went out to the living room. "Dad, I'm going out," Holly said, tying her hair up. "I won't be back for lunch."
"Mhm."
Wyatt put down his newspaper, took out his wallet, and pulled out three hundred yuan for her. "Be back early this afternoon. And buy yourself some breakfast while you're out."
Holly took it without hesitation, grinning. "Thanks, Dad! You're the best."
In the past, when Holly talked back, Wyatt would get angry and scold her. But now that she was acting like this, he didn't know what to say. He just picked up his newspaper again without a word.
The atmosphere suddenly turned a little awkward.
Iris stood to the side, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Holly knew her father's personality, so she didn't mind. "We're leaving, Dad. Remember to eat lunch, and don't smoke."
"Mhm."
Wyatt didn't even look up.
Once they were down the stairs, Iris took two deep breaths, patting her chest. "That scared me to death."
"What's there to be scared of? My dad just looks intimidating."
Holly made a quick phone call. A few seconds later, she said, "Cousin, I'm waiting for you at the community gate."
After she hung up, Iris replied to her earlier comment, "Well, I was scared."
"Alright, alright," Holly said, poking her friend playfully.
At the community gate, they saw Xavier Jennings holding bubble tea. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and army-green pants, his choppy, medium-length hair styled in a side part.
Holly froze for a second, then turned to look at Iris. Seeing her friend's mischievous grin, she understood everything.
"..."
'Is it too late to call Mortimer and tell him not to come?'
"Holly, this is for you. Low sugar."
Xavier Jennings flashed a bright, white smile, handing the bubble tea to her before giving another cup to Iris.
Iris saw the logo of her favorite brand on her cup and shot Holly a meaningful wink, as if to say, *See how thoughtful Xavier is? He even bought your favorite kind.*
'I ought to knock her out with this bubble tea,' Holly thought. 'Why didn't she tell me Xavier was coming?'
"Where's your cousin? Is he not coming?" Xavier suddenly asked.
Holly: "..."
She was just about to pull out her phone and tell Mortimer not to come when Xavier waved toward the gate. "Cousin! Over here!"
Holly turned her head. Her eyes landed on Mortimer Quincy, who was wearing a black sweater over a light blue collared shirt and light-wash jeans.
She saw him falter for a second. The next moment, their eyes met, and she offered him an innocent smile.
"..."
'I wish the ground would swallow me whole.'