Chapter 832

She paid no attention, simply nestled in her mother’s arms, acting like a spoiled child. The sight softened both Mr. and Mrs. Rivera’s hearts.
A long while later, Cynthia finally managed to collect herself and sat up, reaching for her phone. When she unlocked it, she was surprised to see a new message from Tristan Davis—the very person who had previously blocked her.
She let out a quiet gasp and hurried to open the message. At some point, Tristan had unblocked her and now texted: [Still out?]
Tears welled up in Cynthia’s eyes. She typed back immediately: [Are you worried about me?]
Tristan replied: [I’m free now. Tell me where you are, I’ll come pick you up.]
This time, Cynthia’s tears nearly spilled over. She pouted and wrote: [Why didn’t you say so earlier? My parents already took me home. But thank you for worrying about me, Tristan.]
Tristan: [Alright. Just don’t wander off next time. Don’t make people worry.]
A watery laugh escaped Cynthia. The rapid change in her expression left Mrs. Rivera baffled. She leaned over to peek at her daughter’s phone.
Sure enough, Cynthia was texting with Tristan Davis.
Mrs. Rivera could only shake her head helplessly and let her daughter be.
Cynthia typed: [So you admit you’re worried about me?]
But Tristan’s next reply wiped the smile right off her face.
Tristan: [You’re my Cynthia.]
Cynthia snapped her phone shut in frustration.
Who wants to be your Cynthia?!
She tossed her phone aside and launched herself at her mother, hugging her tightly. “Mom! I have to marry Tristan Davis, you have to help me!”
Mrs. Rivera hugged her back, smiling. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll help you.”
That same evening, Emily Blair also checked in with Albert Rivera. They exchanged updates about their progress, the conversation polite and easy, leaving Emily feeling much more at ease.
Albert mentioned that, on his way home, a woman had stopped him on the street, refusing to let go. She kept pressing him about his relationship with Emily, acting a bit unhinged—like she’d lost touch with reality.
Albert warned Emily to be careful over the next few days.
Emily frowned, searching her memory for any woman like that, but came up empty. She asked Albert what the woman looked like. He replied that she was quite pretty, and rather delicate.
Pretty and delicate.
Emily still had no clue who it could be. She replied politely: [Alright, I understand. Thanks for letting me know.]
Albert texted back: [No problem. Get some rest. Good night.]
Emily sent back an emoji, then put her phone away and settled in for a good night’s sleep.
But early the next morning, Emma George dragged her out of bed. “Do you know what time it is? Come on, get up!”
Emily’s hair was a wild mess. “What’s going on?”
Emma said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to spend more time with Albert Rivera? I’ve
set up another lunch for you two-today, at noon. Hurry up and get ready.”
“Again? We just saw each other yesterday. Why today too?”
Despairing, Emily tried to flop back into bed, but Emma yanked her upright. “Come on, get moving.”
With no hope of resisting her mother’s iron will, Emily dragged herself out of bed.
When she met Albert Rivera at the restaurant, both of them couldn’t help but share a knowing, helpless smile.
Albert sighed. “After I told my mom about you, she’s been over the moon. Now she insists I see you again, and that we should try to get to know each other better.”