Chapter 52: A Misunderstanding
A 100–day anniversary.
I mulled over those words, and then recalled the desire in the man’s eyes from last night. For a moment, it felt like biting into an unripe grape–bitter and unsettling.
I had always thought that someone as busy, aloof, and serious as Fletcher would never remember these “insignificant” days he mentioned.
But look, not only did he remember, he even thoughtfully booked a private room to celebrate with Davina.
This was something that had never happened in the six years we had known.
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Chapter 52. A Misunderstanding
each other.
And yet, Davina had chosen this significant day–one meant for just the two of them–to invite me.
“Is this appropriate?” I thought of Danica’s future and suppressed the discomfort in my chest, asking, “What if we anger Mr. Lynton? We’d be in big trouble.”
I had already offended him once last night, and I couldn’t afford to make another
mistake.
Hearing this, Davina quickly reassured me, “It’s fine, Charlene. After all, it’s just a ‘coincidence, and on such an important day, anything I ask of Letch, he will agree to.”
She said this with such certainty, and I knew it came from the confidence Fletcher had
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Chapter 52: A Misunderstanding
built over countless days and nights.
I curled my fingers slightly and said, “Thank you for taking care of it, Davina.”
“Charlene, no need to thank me,” Davina fluttered her big eyes and smiled. “I can see everyone’s been quite stressed, and I feel bad too. After all, it all started because of me. And I don’t want anyone holding a grudge later.”
When Davina spoke, her expression was so genuine that I couldn’t doubt her sincerity.
“Also, Charlene, don’t you want to ease the tension between Letch and Professor Fleming?” Davina noticed I didn’t respond immediately and looked at me expectantly, lowering her voice. “I feel like there’s some misunderstanding between them. If there’s a misunderstanding, shouldn’t we clear it up?”
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Chapter 5 A MISC
Davina made a good point, but for some reason, I felt a slight resistance.
However, considering her kind intentions, I decided to take a practical approach. “Do you really think you can convince Mr. Lynton?”
Davina’s eyes brightened with a knowing smile. “Charlene, you should know this. Letch isn’t the type to hold grudges. Right now, he’s just angry, but tonight is our 100–day anniversary. Fletcher will definitely ask me what I want as a gift. When he does, I’ll bring up the idea of reconciliation. He won’t have a reason to refuse.”
Indeed, when faced with his obedient sweetheart, how could Fletcher ever bear to
refuse her?
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Since Davina didn’t mind me being there, what was there for me to avoid?
After all, when it came to legal matters, things could get complicated.
I needed to be more rational.
Davina seemed to sense my hesitation and asked, “Charlene, what do you think of my idea?”
“Sounds good,” I replied, my heart a little conflicted.
“By the way, the recorder,” Davina opened her bag and handed me the recorder. “I forgot to return it to you yesterday because everything happened so suddenly!”
I looked at her, unsure how to respond.
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She carefully explained, “Don’t worry, Charlene, I didn’t listen to any of the recordings.”
Her words instantly relieved the tension in my chest. I thought about it for a moment; if Davina had actually listened to the recording, given her personality, she likely wouldn’t be so eager to reconcile with us.
With that in mind, I nodded and said, “Alright, we’ll do it your way, Davina.”
In the face of Danica’s future, my personal pride really didn’t matter.
The situation was unexpectedly harmonious.
However, when I told Kaitlyn about it, she smirked and commented, “That girl may be young, but she’s not short on schemes.”
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She thought Davina was deliberately orchestrating everything.
But was it necessary for her to make a big deal out of it? Fletcher’s affection for her was well–known, so much so that he would go
to the extent of taking Danica to court. That kind of privilege wasn’t something we could get.
What truly troubled me now was whether I should go with Winston.
“Of course,” Kaitlyn urged, clearly enjoying the drama. “Professor Fleming probably can’t wait. Besides, Davina’s the one who set it up, so even if Fletcher’s not happy, he won’t blame us.”
Kaitlyn made a good point, but I didn’t want to drag Winston into this any further. After thinking it over for a while, I ultimately
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decided to go alone.
The celebration was set for 7:30 PM.
Before leaving the office, Davina made sure to wave me off. I didn’t want to waste time, so I quickly followed after her.
However, since I was unfamiliar with the route, I ended up arriving at Savory Haven just before dinnertime.
As I was about to ask the staff where the private room was, I unexpectedly spotted Winston standing a little further away.
He was wearing a light camel–colored long wool coat, with a Burberry classic checkered scarf around his neck. Beneath the coat, he wore a formal and tailored suit–comfortable yet dignified.
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He was patiently speaking with a staff member when, as if sensing my gaze, he suddenly turned his head. Our eyes met, and then he took long strides toward me.
“Lena.” Winston’s lips curved into a faint smile as he said, “I thought I was the one who was late.”
I looked at him in confusion and asked, “Were you waiting for me?”
“Yeah, weren’t we supposed to have dinner with Ms. Bates tonight?”
It wasn’t until I asked further that I learned Davina not only extended the invitation but had personally called Winston to remind him not to be late.
What she didn’t know was that I had never planned on bringing Winston along.
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A mix–up, it seemed.
“Lena,” Winston said, as if sensing my thoughts, his voice tinged with apology, “I made things worse with the lawyer situation, but this time, you’ve got to give me a chance to make it right.”
See? Everything Winston said sounded so smooth, so easy to accept.
The truth was, I owed him a favor.
But looking at his sincere expression, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I could only sigh and say, “This isn’t your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s my impatience.”
Winston grinned, casually adding, “Well, since we both have our faults, why don’t we make it right together?”
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I was about to respond when I heard Davina’s soft voice from behind me, “Charlene, Professor Fleming, what a coincidence.”
Turning toward the sound, I saw Davina, arm linked with Fletcher’s, standing nearby. Her face radiated innocence and cheer, perfectly playing the role of a surprised bystander.
It was hard to believe she was just putting
on an act.
Beside her, Fletcher’s gaze burned with intensity, his eyes deep and stormy, his expression one of unmistakable disdain.
After all, no matter how convincingly Davina played the part, Fletcher’s view of me hadn’t changed. In his eyes, I was a woman driven by manipulation and self–interest.
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Just like this so–called “coincidental” meeting, I was here with my own agenda.
A carefully orchestrated coincidence.
But so what if it was calculated? Achieving my goal was what mattered most, wasn’t it?
So I walked up to them with feigned enthusiasm and greeted, “Mr. Lynton, Davina, what a coincidence. It seems fate is at play.”
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