Chapter 0284

Winter’s so-called “cousin,” who rarely kept in touch and wasn’t that close with now that they’re grown up, turned out to care about her so much.

Then again, it made sense. Though Paul often seemed distant and aloof, Miranda knew he was just too busy to wear his concerns and affections on his sleeve. Deep down, he was more tender-hearted than anyone.

“If something like today happens again, you can contact me anytime,” he said, pausing as he glanced at her, seemingly by chance.

He continued, “Alcohol stimulates the nervous system; at best, it causes nausea and vomiting. At worst, it can lead to fainting or even shock. So, it’s better to drink less, wouldn’t you agree?”

Miranda’s face flushed, and her ears turned a shade of pink. She knew he was indirectly speaking to her.

She cleared her throat and defended herself, “Even though alcohol has many side effects, it also helps people temporarily forget their troubles. Occasionally zoning out and venting properly is a way to manage emotions, wouldn’t you say?”

Paul hadn’t expected her not only to rebut but to mimic his phrasing in return, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “There are many ways to vent, does it have to be through drinking?”

“Well… it depends on the person. What if some people prefer it?” she replied.

Paul stopped walking and suddenly turned to face her. “Do you like it?”

Miranda hesitated briefly, meeting his intense gaze before quickly looking away. She shook her head, saying, “I don’t like it.”

Even when Hansel hurt her deeply in the past, she never turned to alcohol for comfort. She knew that escaping wasn’t a solution.

She was terrified of losing control, drifting into a foggy, intoxicated state where she couldn’t think clearly. Paul’s smile widened slightly. “No wonder Natalie’s worried that Winter will be a bad influence on you.”

Miranda looked puzzled. “What?”

“If there’s ever a day you feel like drinking, you can call me,” he said.

“Call you so you can help clean up the mess?” she asked, unable to stop herself from laughing.

Paul nodded but then shook his head. “Aside from that, I might even join you for a drink.”

Miranda blinked, “You? Drink with me?”

She couldn’t quite picture Paul drinking.

“What? You don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” Miranda said, shaking her head.

“Well, you can test that someday.”

“Sure.”

His gaze was soft, like calm water. It was as if it could easily pull someone in without them even realizing it.

A loud honk suddenly pierced the air as a Mercedes sped past them, interrupting the budding moment between them.

Miranda snapped out of her thoughts and glanced up at the sky. “Looks like it’s about to rain. Let’s head back.”

Without waiting for Paul’s response, she turned and started walking. Paul stayed in place for a moment while watching her retreating figure. There was a smile tugging at his lips.

Inside the Mercedes, Hansel glanced in his rearview mirror, watching the two figures walking together. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his knuckles turned pale, but he barely noticed.

Miranda seemed different now. She smiled more, but those smiles were directed at another man.

He realized that while he remained stuck in the past, she had moved on; she had found new goals in life and new people to accompany her. Whether it was Paul or Sam, both of them were no less than him.

As much as Hansel didn’t want to admit it, Miranda was doing far better without him than he had imagined. But the more he saw her thriving, the harder it was for him to accept.

Why?

Why was she able to let go so easily, to move on so decisively, while he remained trapped in the memories of what used to be?

At that moment, Hansel found himself resenting her. He resented her for being so heartless, for not giving him just one more chance like she used to.

Chapter 0285

It was midnight when heavy rain started to fall. Hansel drove back to the mansion and parked the car, but he didn’t want to get out.

Staring at the house right in front of him, he realized the place was no longer a “home” without Miranda. He now felt nothing but an emptiness.

He then pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

In the confined space of the car, the smoke lingered, trapped with nowhere to escape. The crimson glow of the cigarette burned at his fingertips, releasing wisps of smoke that quickly blurred his features.

Hansel sank into the darkness, almost merging with the night itself.

The time it took to smoke a cigarette was neither too long nor too short. As the cigarette burned to its end, the previously dazed look in Hansel’s eyes suddenly sharpened.

He thought that just because he had once had her and now lost her didn’t mean he couldn’t have her again in the future.

If he could win her back, everything could return to how it used to be.

Hansel stepped out of the car, flicked the cigarette butt away, and walked toward the mansion.

At that moment, Ingrid was standing at the door, her face beaming with a smile. Hansel glanced at his watch and saw that it was 1:00 AM.

“Hans!” Ingrid began, but before she could finish her sentence, Hansel walked past her without a second glance. It was as if she was nothing more than air.

Her smile faltered for a moment but quickly reappeared. She kept her composure and said, “Hans, I cooked a few dishes myself tonight. I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer, and I couldn’t message you because you blocked me…”

Hansel paused and turned to look at her. “What, are you complaining now?”

“No, no… I just wanted to say, can you unblock me? I get worried when I can’t reach you,” Ingrid said cautiously.

Hansel remained silent, too indifferent even to reject her outright.

Seemingly oblivious, she walked over to the dining table and continued, “I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I just kept waiting…. I’ve reheated these dishes four or five times; they’re probably not edible anymore.”

Hansel glanced at the table and immediately laughed. There were shrimp scampi, pork tenderloin, sautéed celery, and chicken tortilla soup.

“What’s wrong, Hans?”

“You did well. Just don’t do it again.”

He was allergic to shrimp and didn’t eat pork or celery. The soup might have been passable, but large slices of tortilla strips on top ruined his appetite instantly. She really knew how to miss the mark.

Ingrid watched him walk upstairs, resisting the urge to flip the dishes over. She took a deep breath and shouted.

“Martha!”

There was no response.

“Sarah!”

“Ms. York, what’s the matter?”

Sarah Lund didn’t dare to play dumb like Martha, knowing she wasn’t the one who had watched Hansel grow up.

Ingrid gave her a cold command, “Clear the table.”

“What about the dishes?”

“Throw them out.”

“Oh, alright.”

In the master bedroom, Hansel lay on the bed, his mind wandering back to Miranda as he thought of the dishes Ingrid had made. From someone who didn’t even touch kitchen work, Miranda had learned to cook for him. No one did it better.

No matter how late he came home, the food on the table was always warm.

She knew what he was allergic to, and those things never appeared on their dining table. With a balanced mix of meats and vegetables, the meals were always nutritionally complete, crafted carefully as she studied cookbooks and nutrition guides.

The better he had eaten then, the greater the contrast now.

The next day, Hansel got up to go to work.

Apparently not getting the message, Ingrid had prepared breakfast for him again. Hansel walked past without glancing at the table.

Ingrid didn’t seem upset, still smiling as she brought over a tie.

“What are you doing?” Hansel grabbed her wrist firmly.