Chapter 622

“Yes, I like Essie a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to marry you.” Before Lucian could respond, she added, “What happened six years ago is still fresh in my mind. I don't wish to repeat those mistakes. You shouldn't trouble yourself any further, Mr. Farwell.”

Roxanne’s voice trembled with anxiety. She felt Lucian’s intense gaze upon her, but thankfully, she managed to articulate her feelings.

Lucian stared at her, considering an explanation. He reconsidered, however, upon hearing her final words. He had wronged her six years prior, and hurt her deeply. He couldn't blame her distrust. No matter what he said, she likely wouldn't listen, perhaps even dismissing his words as excuses.

He sighed. “I was wrong to use Essie as an excuse. Regarding my feelings for you, I believe you will see my sincerity in time.”

Roxanne, unfamiliar with this side of Lucian, was unsure how to react. Meanwhile, he signaled for the bill.

Leaving the restaurant, Roxanne remained in a daze.

“Miss, your flowers!” The server called, running toward her with the bouquet as they reached the entrance.

Roxanne snapped out of it, remembering she'd entered carrying them. She saw the server, slightly breathless, holding the flowers. The server, looking at Roxanne with a touch of envy, said, “Don’t forget your flowers, Miss.”

Roxanne looked at the bouquet as the server offered it. She accepted them, thanking the server.

The server beamed. “No worries. You two look like a perfect match! I hope you’ll be together forever!” Waving goodbye, she hurried back inside.

Roxanne held the flowers, watching her go, her mind blank; she hadn't even explained herself.

From a short distance, Lucian observed their interaction. Seeing Roxanne's expression after the server left, a subtle smile played on his lips, his earlier grimness softening.

Roxanne stood for a moment before approaching him.

In the car, Lucian drove silently to the research institute, neither of them speaking.

Arriving at the entrance, they found it deserted—it was working hours. Roxanne exited the car, intending to leave the flowers on the passenger seat.

“If you don’t like the flowers, you can throw them away,” Lucian said coldly, interrupting her.

Roxanne frowned at him.

He continued, his face impassive, “As I said, I don’t want the car to smell. It’s bad enough you returned them to my office, Ms. Jarvis. Rejecting them to my face would be too hurtful. If they bother you that much, simply discard them, Ms. Jarvis.”

He leaned over, closing the door before she could respond, and drove off.

Roxanne stood frozen, bouquet in hand. Considering his words, she glanced at the flowers, a conflicted expression clouding her face.