The food was authentic and delicious, and as they ate, the conversation flowed easily. Eugene was a natural conversationalist—
attentive, thoughtful, never letting the discussion lapse into awkward silence. Thanks to her, the atmosphere remained light and
cheerful throughout the meal.
After dinner, the two of them left the restaurant.
Eugene went to get the car while Sylvia waited outside, enjoying the gentle evening breeze.
“Sylvia!”
A familiar voice called from behind. Sylvia didn’t need to turn to know who it was. She smiled as she glanced back, but the
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtexpression faltered ever so slightly at what she saw.
It wasn’t just Magdalen. Estelle was with her.
Estelle’s features were as refined andposed as ever, her gaze calm and clear—so clear, in fact, that it seemed to see right
through Sylvia. She greeted her with a gentle smile. “Sylvia.”
“Estelle!” Sylvia replied warmly. “I heard you're getting married—congratulations!”
“Thank you,” Estelle said, her smile soft but distant. “I hope you'll be able toe.”
“l wouldn't miss it for the world.” Sylvia nodded.
“Sylvia!”
Eugene called out as she returned with the car, her voice warm and affectionate. She walked over, slipped off her coat, and draped
it over Sylvia's shoulders. Then she turned to Estelle and Magdalen. “Friends of yours?”
Sylvia nodded. “Estelle, Magdalen.”
“Ms. Sampson! We've met before—I didn’t expect to run into you again,” Eugene said, extending her hand to Magdalen.
Estelle, watching Eugene wrap her coat around Sylvia, instantly understood what was between them. Magdalen had mentioned
Eugene before, and Estelle had told her that Sylvia had every right to move on and find her own happiness. Still, seeing it for
herself, Estelle felt something twist painfully inside her. Though the evening was mild and pleasant, she felt as if a fistful of snow
had lodged in her chest.
She couldn't help but recall last Christmas—everyone gathered at home, decorating the tree, sharing dinner, lighting fireworks in
the yard. The memory stuck in her throat like a bone.
Magdalen, no doubt feeling the sdifort, forced a polite smile as she shook Eugene's hand, her manner distant. “Yes,
we've met. J City’s smaller than | thought.”
—— The price is only 1/4 of what others charge —
*D Reading History
No history.
NovelEnglish