Chapter 968: Oscar's Impulsion

Oscar watched Besse intently, absorbing her every expression. She was always shrewd, adept at exploiting loopholes in others' words to her advantage. He nodded when she suggested he spend more time with his family.

"Well then, I wish you all a pleasant time in Northfield," Oscar said, raising his glass. The message was clear: he wouldn't be troubling them further.

Doyle was surprised by Oscar's easy agreement; he'd anticipated more resistance. But Oscar's promise, regardless of its source, satisfied him. The three of them clinked glasses.

Besse excused herself to the restroom, and Doyle offered to accompany her.

"No thanks, I think you should spend more time with Mr. Commander," Besse refused.

"Go back early," Doyle said.

"Okay," she replied, smiling.

Oscar couldn't help noticing the closeness between Doyle and Besse; they were deeply in love.

"Your relationship with Besse is quite strong," Oscar remarked casually.

"Of course it is, we grew up together," Doyle replied proudly.

"Oh really?" Oscar feigned interest before adding dryly, "We'll get married within half a year."

"Congratulations on your upcoming wedding," Oscar said.

"We'll send you an invitation," Doyle replied.

"Okay," Oscar nodded. "I'll go find Besse. She's not familiar with this place; I'm afraid she'll get lost." Doyle rose and left.

Oscar sat alone, staring at the empty chairs. After a while, Besse returned.

"Where's Doyle?" she asked, noticing his absence.

"He might have gone to the restroom," Oscar replied, instead of admitting he'd gone to find her.

"He might have gone to find me," Besse mused, considering that possibility.

"Excuse me, I'll go take a look," Besse said, rising.

Oscar suddenly grasped her hand.

"Commander?" Her tone was respectful, but distant.

"My name is Oscar," he said.

"I should call you Commander," she insisted.

Intentionally creating distance, Besse replied formally, "Please let go of me, Mr. Commander."

Oscar's fingers twitched. The warmth of her hand made him hesitate, but he released her. Besse turned and walked away with evident disgust.

"Besse," Oscar called, "Doyle just missed you. If you go looking for him now, you might miss each other again. Stay put."

Besse hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry for being impulsive and causing offense," Oscar apologized.

She offered an insincere smile, returning to her seat. "Thanks for reminding me."

Despite her casual response, something stirred within Oscar at the sight of her smile. He suppressed his emotions and asked, "Did you use the mosquito repellent I gave you?"

Besse frowned, realizing the several red mosquito bites on her arms, barely visible in the dim light, but clearly noticed by Oscar.

"I forgot about it when we left," she explained, trying not to dwell on his observation.

"Remember next time; mosquitoes seem attracted to you," Oscar advised.

"Okay," Besse agreed, feeling a strange unease towards him.

"Will you be…?"

"Why isn't he back yet?" Besse interrupted.

Oscar's lips tightened. "Would he be looking for me in the restroom?" Besse muttered. "Sometimes he's single-minded."

"He'll come back if he can't find you," Oscar said.

Besse looked at him curiously. "How long have you been together?"

"It's been a long time," she replied vaguely.

"Four years?"

"No, it's been more. We grew up together."

"Did you grow up together?"

"What exactly are you trying to say, Mr. Commander?" Besse's tone was sharp.

"You remind me of a friend of mine."

"Don't you think your approach is a bit cliché, Mr. Commander?" Besse said sarcastically.

"It's true though."

"Who?"

"My wife."

"Lillian Wells?" Besse asked. She'd researched Oscar, anticipating rejection and gathering basic information.

"No," Oscar corrected, "Hannah."

"She would be your ex-wife then," Besse pointed out.

Oscar remained silent.

"I've seen pictures of Ms. Cooper and Mrs. Wells, and I don't see any resemblance between either of them and myself."

"Some feelings never change."

"I don't know what you're getting at, Mr. Commander. Doyle and I have a great relationship, and we're getting married soon. Please respect that."

Oscar swallowed hard. She was astute; perhaps she'd known his intentions from the start.

"Okay then," he replied.

Besse stood. "I'm sorry, but if Doyle comes back, please tell him I wasn't feeling well and went back to my room."

Oscar nodded, knowing forgiveness was impossible. He should have known.

"Excuse me," Besse said and left.

"Hannah," Oscar whispered involuntarily.

Besse didn't respond.