when she left he went crazy (Hope and Christopher)

CHAPTER 129

When she left, He went crazy

Chapter 129 Once the Arrow is Shot, It Cannot Be Retrieved

Though his words were partially lost to the hum of the hairdryer, I grasped the essence of what Christopher intended. to convey.

Deep inside, emotions long buried theatened to resurface, nearly overwhelming the calm I had steadfastly maintained. I let my fingernails bite into my palm, the sharp sting pulling me back to a clearer state of mind. “Are you done?” I managed to ask.

Christopher’s fingers continued their gentle ministrations a moment longer before he replied, “Yes, almost.”

With a final pass, the hairdryer shut off, plunging the room into a sudden, heavy silence. I nodded curtly. “Thank you.”

But then, unexpectedly, Christopher’s arms encircled me from behind. His lips hovered near my ear, his whisper both tentative and laden with uncertainty. “Did you catch any of what I said?” From NôvelDrama.Org.

For someone as proud as Christopher, this must have been an unprecedented act of contrition. Unlike his habitual, perfunctory apologies, this time he truly swallowed his pride.

I wanted to surrender to the yearning, but fear–fear of repeating past mistakes–held me back.

Suppressing the lingering bitterness, I forced myself to speak with calm and clarity. “I heard you. But, once the arrow leaves the bow, it cannot be returned.”

My words seemed to extinguish the fire of his innate pride, bit by agonizing bit. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper. “Alright. About today…”

Ignoring the knot of heartache tightening within me, I gently extricated myself from his embrace and turned to face him. “Thank you. I’m fine now, you can go.”

He stared at me, eyes filled with a mix of reluctance and disbelief. “Use me and then discard me?”

Feeling a pang of guilt under Christopher’s intense gaze, I mustered the courage to ask, “Then what do you want?”

He said, “I still want to cook a meal for you, as a way to apologize in action.”

“Alright, you cook!” I agreed, walking past him and leaving the bathroom. I buried myself in work, hoping to divert my thoughts.

When Christopher entered the kitchen, he glanced at the documents scattered on my desk. ‘Are you selling the house. to fund a new business venture?”

1 nodded. “Yes.”

Knowing he would eventually find out, there was no sense in hiding it, I elaborated, “However, it seems challenging to sell the house. The agent informed me that potential buyers are very satisfied during viewings, but when he follows up. there’s no subsequent interest.”

Discussing this, I found myself increasingly puzzled. The house had a prime location and an excellent layout, and it

Chapter 129 Once the Arrow is Shot, It Cannot Be Retrieved.

hadn’t been lived in for long. I had maintained it meticulously, so the renovation was practically as good as new.

t be this hard to

Logically, it shouldn’t be this hard to sell.

Christopher touched his nose, averting his gaze. “If that’s the case, why did you return the money I transferred to you?”

“I don’t want to have any ambiguous ties with you. You should focus on Valence Group,” I said candidly. “Besides, Elissa is looking for investors. If she finds someone interested, that would work too.”

“Alright,” Christopher responded thoughtfully. He then turned, picking up a bag of fresh meat and eggs from the dining table, and headed into the kitchen to begin cooking.

Thanks to Evelyn, Christopher had indeed honed his culinary skills to perfection. Soon, the mouthwatering aroma of food wafted through the room. In less than an hour, four dishes and a soup adorned the table.

The unexpected sight of a table full of spicy and flavorful dishes caught me off guard. “All spicy?” I asked, slightly surprised.

Christopher didn’t typically eat spicy food, so these dishes were a first for him.

As he removed his apron, his eyes softened, radiating a gentle warmth. “It’s not just you who has to accommodate me. From now on, I can accommodate you too.”

I was momentarily taken aback, unsure of what to say. Seeing his resolve, I decided to let him be.

Earlier, fear had suppressed my appetite. But now, faced with a table of my favorite dishes, the hunger crept back, and 1 focused on the meal.

Halfway through, I glanced at Christopher. His face was flushed, and beads of sweat lined his nose from the spiciness. “Have some soup,” I advised. “There’s no need to force yourself.”

Christopher took a large gulp of water. “Were you forcing yourself for the past three years?”

“No.” I shook my head.

What was it like to love someone? It was finding contentment in sharing every meal with one’s love. What Christopher cherished, I grew to cherish too. How could I ever see it as a burden?

Christopher’s blue eyes glimmered with sincerity. “Neither do I. Now, eat up.”

I couldn’t help my concern. “Your stomach isn’t in the best condition.”

“You managed for three years; can’t I do it just once? You’re underestimating me,” Christopher spoke earnestly.

I lowered my eyes and murmured,, “Then suit yourself.”

After the meal, Christopher took the initiative to wash the dishes, and I continued my work with a clear conscience.

Unlike with Cecil, where I would have felt embarrassed if he washed the dishes since we were just friends, with Christopher, it felt different. I’d cared for him for three years, so it didn’t seem too much for him to take on the

Chapter 129 Once the Arrow Is Shot, It Cannot Be Retrieved

cooking and dishwashing now.

I was studying the style of the company’s first batch of new products when Christopher, clutching his stomach, sank into the nearby sofa.

“Do you have any stomach medicine?” he asked, wincing.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I handed him a cup of medicine. “Didn’t you say I was underestimating you?”

Christopher had damaged his stomach when he first took over the Group. To quickly gain control over the shareholders and his subordinates, he often worked long hours without eating. Constant social engagements–with frequent drinking on an empty stomach–had only exacerbated the problem.

Christopher stared at me, his expression contemplative. “You’ve changed a lot from before.”

“In what way?” I asked, curious..

Christopher’s thin lips pressed together lightly. “Before, when my stomach hurt, you couldn’t possibly laugh.”

He was right. I would have tried every possible way, researching all kinds of dietary remedies and making nourishing soups every day.

Christopher seized my arm and yanked me toward him. “What about now?”

Caught off guard, I stumbled into Christopher’s embrace, his familiar scent overwhelming my senses. His body heat radiated against my skin, each inch ablaze, causing my heart to flutter. The atmosphere became thick with an unspoken tension.

I quickly disentangled myself. “Look, after you take the medicine, you should probably head out. It’s getting late.”

This couldn’t continue. I reminded myself, ‘Hope, don’t let yourself get ensnared by Christopher’s charms again.”

Christopher’s face fell, his thin lips tightened into a line, remaining silent.

“Drink it, before it gets cold.” I instructed, pointing to the medicine as I turned to retreat to my room.

Just as I reached the doorway, Christopher’s voice, tinged with a rare vulnerability, called out, “Do I really hate to leave tonight?”

“You can crash on the sofa,” I said, heading straight to my room.

Christopher driving with a stomachache wasn’t safe, and if something happened, I’d bear the blame. It was also too much hassle to have Donald come over this late, Right, it wasn’t because I was being soft–hearted.

The next morning, as I walked out of my room, the sight of the large figure on the sofa brought back the previous night’s events.

Winter sunlight streamed through the windows, Illuminating Christopher’s serene form. He lay curled under a blanket, breathing steadily, looking oddly harmless.

Chapter 129 Once the Arrow is Shot, It Cannot Be Retrieved

But that peacefulness was fleeting.

The sudden ring of the phone shattered the calm. Christopher roused groggily, grabbed his phone, glanced at the caller ID, and answered.

It had to be Donald; a few words were exchanged, and the call ended. Christopher checked the time, sat up, and cast a wistful glance my way. “Seems like I can only sleep peacefully when I’m near you.”

I looked at Christopher and responded rather harshly, “But now, I can only feel at ease when I’m far from you.”

Christopher’s fingers curled slightly, his eyes locked onto mine, his voice still heavy with sleep as he whispered, “Do you still hate me?”

“No, not really,” I replied. It wasn’t hatred; I just craved a more peaceful existence.

I pressed my lips together. “Are you free today? We should go finalize the divorce.”

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