My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)
Chapter 1751

She paused, pursed her lips, and drank more than half her cup. Then, she looked away and said, "If I were stronger and held my ground, calling that woman out, maybe Zachary and I wouldn't have gotten to this point."

I rarely saw her like this. She looked as lonely as a traveler alone in the night, covered in wind and snow. I didn't know how to answer her.

Freya looked on for a while, and her loneliness dissipated in the blink of an eye. She began to gossip. "How long will you and Hendrix pretend to be divorced? Fortunately, you told me. Otherwise, I would have taught Hendrix a lesson when I saw that attitude of his."

"I don't know. It'll take some time." I sighed and suddenly felt a little depressed.

Who would be willing to pretend to be enemies if they could love each other without bounds?

There would never be a shortage of women around Hendrix. Even if none of them matched his strength and background perfectly, what if someone who could replace me really appeared one day? What should I do then?

As soon as I finished speaking, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I took it out and found that it was a video call from Hendrix.

"Well, the big boss is here to check on you. I'd better stay away!" Freya joked, stood up and left.

To gain a firm foothold in the business circle, Freya had to rely on her connections. However, she had a lukewarm relationship with Pedro, so she appealed to Hendrix for him to invest instead. That was why he'd attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony that day. From that day on, Freya often joked about it by saying that she was working hard for Hendrix.

Helplessly, I shook my head with a smile and then picked up the phone call.

"You're only picking up my call after so long. Aren't you done being angry?" Hendrix raised his eyebrows and laughed smugly.

"You hate to part with me?" I joked.

"I'm just afraid that you'll be too tired. You've stayed outside for an entire day without rest. How's your body? Do you feel strange anywhere?" Hendrix's tone was soft, and it eased the sharpness in my words. "No, I'm fine. I can still get angry and fire shots at people. I feel like I've been reborn. Am I really sick?" There was probably no terminally ill patient with a better mentality than mine.

"Your happiness is more important than anything else." Hendrix looked at me, and his expression was particularly serious.

It was obvious that he was concerned about me, but I could clearly feel that he was trying to see through me, to see what I'd look like after my death.

All people with terminal diseases in the world had a common point; they liked to make fun of their death. When they really realized that death would come as expected, they would deceive themselves and would not accept it.

"Of course I'm happy. I'm just afraid that you won't get homemade lunch anymore. That's a shame, Mr. Roberts. Would you be sad about that?" I changed the topic and decided to stay away from death as a subject.

"What homemade lunch?" Hendrix was confused.

"Hendrix?" I narrowed my eyes and stared at him with sharp eyes. "Are you pretending to be dumb? Did you not eat the lunch Estella gave you everyday?"

Was that whole thing just gossip? Everyone in the company knew about it.

"When did that happen?" Hendrix's expression remained innocent, as if he had no idea about the matter.

"Nothing." Probably because of my old habits, I'd felt jealous after listening to harmless gossip again.