Flash Marriage With Mr. Sheffield: Go Away, Cheap Man!-Chapter 205: From Now On, I’ll Be By Your Side
Grandma and Aunt initially worried that Clara Sterling might be mocked by the Langley Family for her poor embroidery skills.
Who knew Clara Sterling was hiding her talents, pretending to be a fool.
Grandma laughed heartily, "Our Clara is really clever, she learned after just one look."
"Grandma Young, she was obviously pretending not to know how, couldn’t you tell?" Shannon Langley said defiantly.
Grandma chuckled, "I’m old, my eyes aren’t good."
Mrs. Langley sarcastically remarked, "I originally thought she was a simple girl, but turns out she’s quite cunning."
Clara Sterling smiled back sharply, "Yes, I originally thought she was a simple girl too."
That "she" obviously referred to Shannon Langley.
Shannon Langley understood, her eyes turned red again, putting on a pitiful look, "Sister Clara, who are you talking about?"
"No one," Clara Sterling smiled.
Shannon Langley was stifled with anger, feeling vexed but had nowhere to vent, almost suffering internal injuries.
"Dinner’s ready." At this moment, Uncle came out of the kitchen with a big bowl of food, "Go wash your hands and get ready to eat."
The dining table gradually filled with dishes.
A big table full.
Everyone took their seats.
"Clara, this sweet and sour pork ribs, I made this, it’s my specialty dish, the few dishes on the edge there were fried by your uncle, those dishes of stir-fried green pepper and meat, spicy chicken, and couple’s lung slices were specially made by Silas Sheffield for you, try them." Aunt said with a smile.
Clara Sterling looked at the dishes made by Silas Sheffield as directed by Aunt’s hand.
Silas Sheffield had said he would show off his skills tonight, making a few local Valeria dishes.
Clara Sterling felt strands of sweetness spreading in her heart, pursing her lips and smiling at Silas Sheffield.
This man, cold as frost, whose hands signed billion-dollar contracts in the business world, at this moment, they were imbued with the scent of livelihood for her.
Silas Sheffield was also looking at her, his lips curved into a faint smile, the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting a bit of orange warmth.
Such a contrast to his usual cold stern appearance in front of his subordinates.
Shannon Langley watched the two gaze affectionately at each other, her eyes almost forming silk threads; she slightly tightened her grip on her chopsticks, the smile on her face a bit stiff.
This meal, Clara Sterling ate happily.
But Shannon Langley was different, she ate the lavish spread like chewing on wax.
After dinner, Mrs. Langley dragged Aunt to chat about household trivialities.
They chatted until around ten at night, before the Langley Family finally left.
As night fell, the heat of summer slightly dissipated, and the croaking of frogs and insect chirps composed the symphony of a summer night.
Silas Sheffield and Clara Sterling moved chairs, climbing up to the rooftop terrace of Grandma’s house to sit and stargaze.
The cement floor of the terrace still retained the heat from the day’s blazing sun, but the night breeze had brought coolness in subtle threads.
The night sky descended, as if reaching out could scoop up handfuls of diamond-like starlight.
The moon hanging quietly on the horizon, like a bright mirror.
The two sat side by side.
Clara Sterling looked up, pointing at the stars, speaking softly about which was the Cowherd, which was the Girl Weaver.
Silas Sheffield didn’t look much at the stars; his gaze remained fixed on the side profile of the person beside him.
The moonlight outlined the soft contours of the girl’s face, her beautiful eyes bright and sparkling, as if reflecting a galaxy.
"When I was little, I loved stargazing on summer nights," Clara Sterling’s voice carried a trace of sadness and loneliness, "Because I heard that when people die, they become stars in the sky, I often wondered, among the many stars, would there be one that my dad became."
Silas Sheffield was slightly taken aback.
The night was as cool as water.
Clara Sterling’s voice seemed to be wrapped in wind, cool and slightly fragmented.
"My mom said my dad left when I was two; I was too young then to even remember what he looked like."
Speaking, Clara Sterling paused, pretending as if relieved, "His appearance probably wasn’t bad, after all, I’m so beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?"
"Yes," Silas Sheffield murmured in a low voice.
Clara Sterling sighed.
"All these years, my mom and I have relied on each other. My mom raised me on her own; even when life was bitter and exhausting she never vented her frustrations on me. As a child, I didn’t understand, there was an uncle who had feelings for my mom, wanted to pursue her, but I chased him away."
"Later, as I grew up, every time I think of this, I regret it. If my mom could find a partner, someone to help ease her bothers, share the burdens of life, perhaps her days wouldn’t be so tough, and sometimes I even think I’m just a burden, dragging my mom down."
The cold, bright moonlight cast her face in sadness and sorrow.
Silas Sheffield looked on, feeling heartache.
He wanted terribly to tell her that her father was still alive.
But he couldn’t.
He had promised Yvonne Sterling to keep this secret.
"When I was a child, I envied those little kids who were held by their mom and dad. I wanted to be held by my mom and dad together, shopping," Clara Sterling’s gaze was unfocused, as if staring into some void.
Feeling her sadness, Silas Sheffield reached out and gently held the hand she had placed beside her.
Fingers intertwined, Silas Sheffield’s voice cool like the night, "From now on, I’ll be there with you."
His palm warm and dry, completely enveloping her hand.
Beneath the gold-rimmed glasses, the sharp, deep eyes usually filled only with her reflection, now gentle like the moonlight.
The night breeze softly blew past, bringing the fragrance of grass and wildflowers.
Silas Sheffield leaned closer toward Clara Sterling, resting his forehead gently against hers.
"Clara." he softly called her name, his voice deep and hoarse, particularly alluring in the quiet of the night.
"Hmm." She responded softly.
Their breaths intertwined closely.
No distinction between each other.
Neither spoke again.
Silas Sheffield’s cool thin lips lightly pressed against hers, lips brushing, tenderly affectionate.
Moonlight like water, quietly flowing around them, as if the stars shyly blinked.
This kiss was initially extremely soft, like butterfly wings touching flowers.
Gradually, the man deepened the feeling, with emotions and ardor accumulated over time, twining intimately.
All surroundings seemed to quiet down.
At this moment, in their world, there was only each other, and this sweet-filled kiss with the breath of a summer night.
