Her tone was calm and composed, yet Edward Stephens detected a certain underlying meaning.
He furrowed his brows slightly and retorted, "When else have I not arrived on time? You can’t keep adding inexplicable charges against me."
Daisy Ginger pressed her lips together, looked at him for a moment, and finally, without a word, withdrew her gaze as if there was nothing more to say, grabbed her bag, and left.
Edward Stephens had no choice but to reach out and grasp her wrist. In a low, hoarse voice, he said helplessly, "Daisy, can you be reasonable?"
"I left very early that day." Edward explained to her, "But halfway through, I received a call from Emily Ginger."
"She was arguing with Ian Linton. I wasn’t interested and was about to hang up," Edward said, furrowing his brow slightly, "but then I heard a strange noise. It sounded as if...someone was drowning," he said this as if uncertain, his tone tinged with hesitation. "I had to go back."
Daisy stood there, her lashes falling, hiding the expression in her eyes.
"I called you, but it seemed there was a bad signal on your end, and I couldn’t get through." Edward looked down at the wrist he held, so slender, like a young plant’s tender stem, easily breakable with a slight twist. Without reason, he slightly loosened his grip, merely holding her as he pulled her closer. His voice was low, slightly hoarse, with a hint of coaxing, "The text message...you didn’t reply. I came over right after confirming she was fine at the hospital, but...it rained, and I didn’t make it by twelve."
He reached out, clasping her slender waist, pulling her into his arms.
Daisy struggled a bit, but eventually fell onto his lap, the man sighing lightly as he coaxed in a low voice, "I prepared a birthday gift for you...would you like to see it?"
Daisy sat quietly on his lap for a while. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝙣𝙚𝙩
Then she lifted her head and gave him a sarcastic cold smile.
Seeing her expression, Edward knew that Daisy wasn’t buying it.
Sure enough, she shook off his hand, stepped on him with her high heel, stood up from his embrace, tidied her shirt, and then lifted her pretty face to give him a harsh, mocking smile: "A hero, Mr. Stephens, should I award you a banner for the top ten model citizens and have it framed for you? You made a promise to me. If you didn’t fulfill it, don’t make excuses. Don’t say that Emily Ginger was on the other end of the line. Even if she had died in front of you, you should have come over. If you can’t do it, don’t promise me. You simply don’t know..."
She paused here, biting her lower lip harshly until it turned pale, swallowing the rest of the sentence—You simply don’t know how much I was looking forward to that night.
Expressing all her joy seemed too cheap; she didn’t want to expose her vulnerability and grievance in front of others, making herself look pitiful.
Forcing all her pent-up frustration back down, Daisy glared at him with resentment, grabbed her bag, and turned to leave.
Edward watched her back until Daisy’s figure disappeared from sight, then closed his eyes and let out a breath.
The phone buzzed. He picked it up and answered with a "Hello."
Ryan Smith’s triumphant voice sounded, "So, did she forgive you?"
"She stormed off." Edward rolled his eyes and replied irritably.