Translator: 549690339
“I don’t want to ride anymore, I want to get off.” Purple Summers said softly, her voice somewhat cold.
For some reason, Alexander Summers felt that Purple Summers was not repulsed by the kiss just now, but now that she suddenly became angry, he was not sure.
He thought for a moment and said to her, “If you don’t like horse riding, we can play something else. There’s a well-designed garden maze in the estate.”
“I don’t like horse riding, and I don’t like mazes. It’s dry and hot under the big sun, what’s the point?” Purple Summers replied indifferently, “I want to go back.”
She sank into a mood of self-disgust, feeling restless and depressed, her mood very low.
She was ashamed of the fleeting agitation, feeling as if she had become a fallen, foolish, and unloving woman.
Purple Summers’s feelings were terrible now.
Alexander Summers hugged her from behind, guiding the horse to walk slowly, all the way to the main gate of the manor castle.
He lifted her off the horse and led her upstairs. The layered steps wound up, and the angel carvings on the staircase handrails were clear and bright, as if coated with a layer of gold powder, extremely luxurious.
It was so big here, even bigger than ten Summers Residences. The long corridors stretched endlessly.
Purple Summers silently followed Alexander Summers, her expression somewhat lost, feeling as if her heart was also like the corridor in front of her, deep and endless, with no clear direction.
After returning to the room, she did not want to face Alexander Summers and took out her homework from her bag to work on.
Alexander Summers probably really thought that she was dried up by the autumn sun and ordered someone to bring afternoon tea. There were thirst-quenching hot drinks and a delicate fruit platter.
Purple Summers was depressed and did not want to eat.
Alexander Summers asked her, “What do you want to eat? I’ll ask the chef to make it.”
Purple Summers wanted to say that she didn’t want to eat anything, but inexplicably, the scene of the red pomegranates hanging heavily from the tree on the mountain that day appeared in her mind.
“Pomegranate…” she unconsciously murmured.
“You want to eat pomegranate?” Alexander Summers heard her, even though her voice was very small.
Purple Summers came to her senses and frowned, “They’re so annoying to eat, one by one, I don’t want to eat them!”
“Then squeeze it into pomegranate juice.” Alexander Summers hugged her waist and dropped a kiss on her hair, “Drinking fruit juice is not troublesome, right?”
There was an unnamed fire in Purple Summers’s heart.
Alexander Summers’s kindness to her was like pouring hot oil on the fire, making her heart burn more intensely.
Why was he good to her?
Did he have sincerity?
…Thinking about Nathaniel Summers, who had been pursuing her for four years, his actions were no less than Alexander Summers’s. Perhaps all men were . They were full of tenderness and affection when they couldn’t have something, but once they had it, they would discard it like a worn-out shoe.
Purple Summers’s heart suddenly became calm.
It was as if she had figured it out.
There was no need to be entangled; all she had to do was refuse.
“I don’t know what’s been added to the fruit juice these days; it’s not clean.” Purple Summers’ voice was calm; devoid of emotion, “I want to do my homework now, I don’t want to drink anything.”
Alexander Summers gently stroked her head, as if soothing an irritated kitten, “Then use the juicer directly, without adding anything. The season is indeed very dry now; it’s good to drink some fruit juice.”
Purple Summers looked down at her workbook, “Whatever you say.”
She didn’t speak anymore.
Soon after, Alexander Summers really had someone bring a basket of pomegranates.
As Purple Summers sat at the table doing her homework, he also sat at the table, leisurely peeling the pomegranates.
The aroma of the fruit was very refreshing, with a hint of sweetness. Purple Summers could not concentrate, her gaze involuntarily drifting towards him.
Alexander Summers had a very good-looking pair of hands, his fingers slender with distinct knuckles. These hands had held guns and killed people, yet now they were carefully peeling pomegranates.
Peeling pomegranates for her.
The gem-like, crystal clear red fruit was peeled away one by one, the pinkish juice lingering on his fingers, faint and sweet – unexpectedly enchanting.
Purple Summers stared at his hands, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
Thump, thump, thump… thump, thump, thump….