No Substitutes for the Bigshots' Dream Girl Anymore!-Chapter 64: Reminiscing
In the past, no matter how late he came home, that silly girl would always be waiting for him in the living room. The lights at the door would be on, left deliberately for him.
Inside the home, only a dim chandelier was lit, its feeble radiance spilling onto her. She would look at him, her face all smiles, yet her eyes unabashedly full of love. "You’re home," she would say.
That was the phrase he’d heard from her the most, and also the one she said with the most joy.
"Why aren’t the lights on?" he would ask her.
Lowering her head, the girl would come over with his slippers to place before him. In a soft voice, she’d say, "I was afraid the bright lights would hurt your eyes when you came in from outside."
"They’re bad for your eyes." The girl would stand up, her eyes always shy to meet his, her smile timidly courteous, her movements obedient.
In front of him was her smile, her gentle words in his ear, a ready meal on the table, and a small potted plant that she’d bought on the windowsill.
Surrounded by darkness, he’d lean against the door and find himself subtly amused.
If Hannah were still by his side today, that fool certainly wouldn’t quarrel with him.
No, to be more precise, they’d never had a quarrel between them.
He’d occasionally get tired of the girl’s grovelling demeanor, tired of her trying to wedge her way into his life, tired of the meals she made, tired of the gifts she carefully prepared, tired... of her.
Yet, if everything were truly lost one day.
Would he...
He closed his eyes, placing the back of his hand over them. The smile on his lips held a note of self-mockery.
He had treated Hannah as if she were nothing but a substitute, a dispensable plaything.
Yet now, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about all of this.
Perhaps it was just because one might eventually become fond of a pet bird after keeping it for a long time?
That’s all it was.
In their relationship, he had always placed himself on a high pedestal, never believing he could develop feelings for someone like Hannah.
His love was for Tiffany Lynch. A love that began as a youthful flutter and persisted into a deep-rooted love, never changing.
Otherwise, how could he develop different feelings for Hannah, who bore a slight resemblance to Tiffany, after Tiffany had left?
Hannah loved him, even when he abandoned her, she still loved him.
Just like his feelings for Tiffany, even if Hannah received nothing in her life in return, she would still love him deeply.
That was the way it should be.
George clutched the front of his shirt tightly, using all of his strength to suppress the stabbing pain in his heart.
The pain was sharp like a needle pricking him, impossible to ignore. He could only take deep breaths.
"Does it hurt, George?" A whisper of concern reached his ear, gentle like a summer breeze caressing his shoulder.
Just like her soothing whispers.
In front of him appeared the image of those careful eyes, filled with unspoken love and concern.
In those eyes, there was always only his reflection.
He abruptly opened his eyes, only to be met with darkness and emptiness.
She wasn’t there.
Gone.
He laughed.
A self-mocking laugh.
[End of Main Text]
Hannah was engrossed, her slim fingers tapping on the tabletop, occasionally stroking Jinlian the dog’s head.
Jinlian’s fur, which had been diligently groomed, was once again ruffled by Hannah. Left with no choice, Jinlian began arranging its fur once more, much to her amusement.
Once Jinlian was finished and its mane was in order, Hannah messed it up again.
Jinlian: "..."
Both the girl and the dog were having a wonderful time.
