Chapter 792
Fleming’s words had barely faded.
The light in Esmeralda’s eyes dimmed, and a lump caught in her throat so suddenly it almost hurt.
She couldn’t quite put her feelings into words. It was as if nothing was technically wrong, yet every detail stabbed at her heart, one after another.
She hadn’t expected Fleming to say “It’s gone” so calmly.
As if it was nothing. As if it never really mattered.
But he knew exactly how much it meant to her-how hard she’d worked to get it back for him. He’d always known.
Back then, Fleming would look at her with this complicated, helpless expression, gently ruffling her hair. “What am I going to do with you, huh? You really think this will help? Look at you-running around, getting yourself into trouble for me.”
She’d always just grin, proud of herself. “It’s how I show I care. If I put my heart into it, maybe God will notice and keep you safe.”
She could still remember, clear as day, that there had been a softness in Fleming’s gaze, even if he wasn’t the sort to show his feelings easily. In those moments, she’d felt something different—something almost tender—from him.
But now, her little token of good luck was gone.
Esmeralda stared at the new trinket dangling from the rearview mirror-a lavender rabbit charm. For a long time, she said nothing, even after Fleming seemed to think the matter was settled.
Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet: “Can you take it down? I just… I don’t really like it. It doesn’t suit you.”
Of course, she didn’t ask who had put the rabbit there.
She already knew, but she didn’t ask.
She only made her own wishes known.
Fleming started the car, glancing at the little purple rabbit out of the corner of his eye. “Is it really that much of a bother?”
He tossed the question back at her, his tone neutral.
But Esmeralda understood what he meant. He didn’t want to take it down.
She knew she was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe she was overthinking it, letting her imagination run wild, maybe even just… being unreasonable?
After all, everyone knew Fleming and Lucy were just like brother and sister. She was probably the only one making a fuss.
But still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness.
And yet…
Fleming didn’t seem to notice her mood at all.
Esmeralda pressed her lips together, looking away, and finally-almost bravely- asked, “Fleming, do you even like me at all?”
Even Fleming couldn’t hide his surprise. He frowned, as if the question had caught him off guard.
He turned to look at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “Don’t go imagining things.”
Just those words-don’t go imagining things-left Esmeralda with a bitter taste she couldn’t describe.
It was as if the feelings that needed to be addressed were suddenly stuck in her throat, impossible to swallow or spit out.
But Fleming had said what he said. What else could she say?
Anything more, and it would just get brushed aside with another “Don’t go imagining things.”
She exhaled quietly. “Okay.”
The car fell silent.
Fleming didn’t try to comfort her further. He figured, after all these years, that he and Esmeralda weren’t the type to get caught up in petty issues. No need to dwell on little things.
They arrived at a restaurant.
It was nearly impossible to get a
here-he’d had to pull
reservings when he left the club
some
to make sure the birthday plans went smoothly.
The car rolled to a stop in the parking lot.
Esmeralda was the first to get out.
She looked up at the restaurant, a place she’d always liked. Instantly her spirits brightened—maybe she was worrying over nothing. Why torture herself?
She was about to turn back and tell Fleming what she wanted to eat when she saw him still sitting in the driver’s seat, phone pressed to his ear.
Something on the other end made his brow knit in concern. “Is it bad? Did she hurt her leg?”
There was a reply she couldn’t hear. Fleming’s frown deepened.