Chapter 374: I Miss You Dearly

With all the commotion, I lost my mood, constantly worrying that Harlan might harm Zoey. “Carter, your friend doesn’t seem unreliable. I’m worried he…” I trailed off.

Carter bent down, scooping me up and carrying me upstairs. “He’s just not good at loving, but he won’t really hurt her. You should change the password tomorrow.”

I blushed. I had shared the house password with Zoey, and she had shared her parents’ with me. I thought of my house as hers, too. It took me by surprise that she’d show up at such an inconvenient time.

Once we were in the bedroom, Carter locked the door, and only then did I feel secure. “Chloe, no one can disturb us now.” Lately, Carter had been getting more and more passionate, but I didn’t mind. Being with the person I loved in such a way was, after all, a beautiful thing.

We gave in to our desires until the early hours of the morning. As I lay beside him, I noticed a message from Zoey. She was going to the Whites’ residence tomorrow, trying to get close to Whitney for me. My heart sank. I quickly dialed her number.

Zoey, still half-asleep, mumbled, “Sis, do you check the time? You two have a sex life, but I didn’t!”

“Zoey, stay away from the Carlyn brothers. I don’t want you getting involved with them. They’re dangerous!”

“Chloe, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Plus, Harlan will be there, too.”

I frowned and stopped her. “Then keep your guard up. Those two are more complicated than they seem. If anything happens, contact me immediately. And don’t let anyone see us together for now. They’ll start suspecting you.”

“Got it, now go back to sleep.” Zoey hung up.

Carter, having finished his shower, lifted the blanket and joined me in bed, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t worry, Zoey isn’t as clueless as you think. Didn’t you advise Philippa to let her grow? I think you care about her more than Philippa does.”

I chuckled lightly and said, “It’s just a habit of mine to worry. If we have kids one day, I’ll probably be even more anxious.”

Carter pulled me closer, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice husky. “Go to sleep.”

The next day, I had mentioned wanting to visit the Doltons with him, and today, he had already arranged it. Maybe he wanted to make it clear to the Doltons that he wasn’t interested in anyone else and to show me that he only cared about me. There’s probably no one else in the world who makes me feel as safe as he does. After my experience with Luke, I finally understood how wonderful Carter really was. It was just a shame that he had to pretend to be helpless in front of others. I couldn’t even walk in and out with him.

He had informed the Doltons beforehand, as he had often visited Peter Dolton, Tiffany’s father, during his time in Jaford. So when his car pulled up to the Doltons’ villa, Tiffany was already waiting, looking stunning. She opened the door with a smile and looked at Carter.

“Carter, you…” But when her gaze shifted to me, her smile froze. I returned her smile brightly. “It’s me. Surprised?”

“What are you doing here? You’re not welcome here.”

Carter quickly spoke up, “I brought Zoey to visit your dad.”

Although Tiffany was clearly displeased, she didn’t know how to stop us. I stepped out of the car and surveyed the Doltons’ property. It had a traditional courtyard style but with an abundance of roses. The white walls and black roof tiles were completely covered in bright roses, creating a stark contrast—like a noble monk tangled with a seductive demon.

I pushed Carter into the house, where Peter was writing in his tea room. “Is that Carter? Come, look at this.” His gaze shifted from his wheelchair to my face, and he paused for a moment. “This is Ms. Gardner, isn’t it?”

Carter introduced me: “Peter, this is my wife, Zoey. This is the life-saving Peter I mentioned, Zoey.”

I was surprised. Tiffany had seemed so troublesome, almost like someone who would cause a lot of drama, similar to Sadie. I thought her father might be unreasonable, too, but to my surprise, Peter was graceful, humble, and kind in appearance. Was it just my imagination? As he looked up, I saw a trace of Carter in him.

“Peter,” I greeted.

He quickly put down his pen and said, “Carter, you really should have let me know you were bringing Ms. Gardner today. I didn’t even know her preferences.” “Tiny, tell your aunt to add two more dishes.”

“It’s alright, Peter. I’m not picky. I can eat anything.”

“Of course, we have to do that. It’s your first time here, and you’re Carter’s wife. How could we treat you casually?” His enthusiasm was genuine, not at all forced. Tiffany, however, showed her disdain on her face and uttered, “She said she didn’t need anything, so why add more dishes? She’s not that important.”

“Brat, you really…” Peter smiled apologetically at me. “Ms. Gardner, I hope you don’t mind. I only have one daughter, and I’ve spoiled her too much.”

“Peter, you’re too kind.”

He gave Tiffany a look and chided, “You better run along now!”

“Hmph, fine,” Tiffany huffed, leaving with a glare at me.

“What are you writing?” Carter asked.

“A poem of renowned poetry from ancient times. The rest is yours to finish.” He handed Carter the pen.

This was the first time I saw Carter use a calligraphy brush. His writing, like his personality, was bold, strong, and flawless—each stroke seemed to strike right at my heart. I couldn’t help but marvel. How could this man write so beautifully? Carter’s skill was so perfect, it almost didn’t seem real. No wonder Tiffany didn’t mind his legs and was hell-bent on marrying him. His charm went far beyond wealth or fame.

“Carter, your writing is amazing,” I praised freely.

With a swift motion, he finished the last stroke and then grabbed a fresh sheet of paper, writing: “There’s a beauty I’ve seen, whose image lingers in my mind. One day apart, and I miss her madly.” His confession was so direct—he didn’t even need to say more. Just a few lines from an old poem perfectly captured his feelings.

“Carter, Peter is still here,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed by his openness.

“It’s fine; Peter has been through it all,” he replied casually.

Peter chuckled and said, “Yes, I, too, was once young and reckless. It seems like you two have a strong bond.”

“Mm.”

At that moment, a woman’s voice sounded from behind us. “Carter’s here? I’ve cut some fruit.” It was the same voice I had heard in the gazebo the night before. She was Tiffany’s aunt.

I quickly turned to look. Today, she wore a white dress with beautiful white magnolias embroidered on it; it matched the flower in her hair. Her features were striking, somewhat reminiscent of a foreign beauty—deep and alluring. Carter introduced her: “This is Amber Dolton, Tiffany’s aunt.” As I studied her, I realized she was examining me closely, too.

“Amber,” I greeted.