Hearing Nathan Moore’s indifferent response, Titus Zane felt somewhat downhearted. She closed her eyes, and just then, her cellphone by the pillow dinged. Instinctively, Titus Zane sprang up, grabbed the phone, and checked to see who had sent her New Year’s greetings.
When a line of text came into view, her lips unconsciously curled into a smile.
...Honey, Happy New Year, wishing you luck and prosperity...
There was a heart emoji at the end of the blessing, followed by the signature, "Love, your husband."
Biting her lip, Titus Zane also composed a text message in reply.
...Hubby, Happy New Year...
The signature was, "Love, your wife."
Nathan Moore reached his arms out to her, and Titus Zane snuggled in willingly. The couple leaned against the bed, not speaking to each other, communicating through text messages instead...
At the Zane Family’s house in Capital City, the courtyard outside the small Western-style building was brightly lit and festive. They had already finished the New Year’s Eve dinner. Samuel Zane, wearing a bright red Tang suit, was sitting in the living room watching television.
Titus Zane’s brother had come back to have dinner during the day, then went back to spend New Year’s with his troops at the military base.
Evander Lancaster had already gone back to his bedroom to rest. Since the elder, Samuel Zane, was not yet ready to sleep, Abigail Zimmerman had no choice but to keep him company in the living room. As the clock hands nearly pointed to midnight, she yawned discreetly, "Dad, it’s getting late, you should head to bed. You’re not young anymore, staying up is bad for your health."
"I’m not tired!" Samuel Zane said these three words defiantly, as if to spite someone.
Abigail Zimmerman, who was about to stand up, had no choice but to sit back down again.
Samuel Zane was still watching the Spring Festival Gala on TV. The host had already started the countdown, yet he refused to rest, muttering discontentedly to the television, "Heartless thing, doesn’t even think to call and check in during the New Year!"
Perplexed, Abigail Zimmerman furrowed her brows, seeing the elder’s obviously displeased expression. Suddenly remembering something, she stood up and headed to the kitchen.
All the housemaids had already gone to rest. After closing the door, Abigail Zimmerman pulled out her phone and dialed Titus Zane’s number. On the other side, Titus Zane hesitated for a moment upon seeing the familiar number before answering. Before she could even speak, Abigail Zimmerman hurriedly started talking.
"Titus, you haven’t gone to bed yet... Your dad is sitting on the sofa refusing to sleep, he’s waiting for your New Year’s call... Although dad can be stubborn, he is after all an elder. Titus, your aunt is asking you, please give him a call to greet the New Year, okay?"
After hanging up, Titus Zane pursed her lips, staring at her phone, seeming to hesitate whether to make the call.
The man lying next to her was still with his eyes closed, but he muttered.
"Just make the call, so that we won’t get disturbed again, it’s annoying."
Looking at her man’s brows feigning annoyance, Titus Zane laughed helplessly. How adorable her man was; her grandfather was so good to him, yet he was generously suggesting she make the New Year’s call.
Mimicking Nathan Moore’s tone, she muttered while dialing the number, "Right, let’s just get this call over with quickly."
In Capital City, at the Zane household, the phone in the hallway rang. Samuel Zane, who had been stubbornly refusing to sleep, twitched at the sound but pretended to be annoyed as he said, "Abigail, answer the phone. Who is this, calling so late without manners and disturbing others!"
"Alright," Abigail Zimmerman responded, hurrying to her feet to go answer the call. Seeing the incoming caller ID, her lips gently lifted into a smile, knowing her niece was just as kind-hearted as her mother.
Grabbing the phone, Abigail Zimmerman deliberately raised her voice, "...Titus, yeah, good, you too. How is Nathan recovering..."
Abigail Zimmerman sneakily turned her head. On the sofa, even though Samuel Zane remained seated, his neck obviously craned forward to listen.