Chapter 309

The wine bottle stood untouched on the dining table.

Rusty's gaze lingered on it, his throat bobbing.

Adrian pushed the glass toward him. "Take it."

"Really? Thank you, Mr. Roland!"

Under the moonlight, Rusty cradled the bottle with a toothy grin.

"How are you getting back? Need a ride?"

"No."

Rusty scratched his head. "That car you usually drive—"

"Not necessary." Adrian cut him off. "Keep today's events to yourself."

"Don't worry! My lips are sealed!" Rusty thumped his chest before speeding off in the Porsche.

Adrian's phone lit up, the screen displaying "Uncle Xavier."

A hearty laugh came through the line.

"Well, well! Adrian Roland calling me? Must be my lucky day."

"Caught a pilot fish, I see." Adrian's lips curved slightly. "No lecture about focusing on work?"

"Fresh catch! Want to come try it?"

"Sure."

Silence. Then— "Wait, seriously?"

"Not welcoming me?"

"Nonsense! I'd have you over every day if I could." Uncle Xavier boomed. "Steamed or sashimi?"

A taxi pulled up. Adrian gave the driver the beach house address.

"Sashimi. Preserve the original flavor."

"Perfect. It'll be perfectly chilled by the time you arrive."

Ending the call, Adrian watched the city blur past the window.

This route was muscle memory.

Even the roadside kapok trees remained unchanged.

Memories surged.

School uniforms. Him pedaling a bicycle with Stella on the back.

"Not here. Too expensive." Her fingers clutched his shirt.

He'd laughed. "The Roland heir can afford it."

"No family money." She shook her head. "Let's go to the food stalls. Grilled squid's only five bucks."

Back then, he'd already started handling company matters with ample allowance.

Yet she always insisted: "When we're married, I'll manage the finances. Every penny counted."

And later?

The window rolled down. Night air rushed in.

To treat her with his own earnings, he'd secretly worked three months.

Finally able to proudly lead her into a restaurant.

During his confession, the entire place erupted in cheers.

She'd buried her flaming face in his chest, ears crimson.

Those days...

Even bitterness tasted sweet.

"Good memories, sir?" The driver glanced in the rearview mirror.

"Mm. Proposed around here."

"Did it work out?"

"We married."

"School sweethearts to wedding bells? Impressive."

Yes. Outsiders only saw the fairytale ending.

The thousand fractures beneath? Theirs alone to bear.

"The weeping crabapples are blooming now. Taking your wife to see them?"

Adrian stiffened. "Crabapples?"

"Mount Rainier's backside has an ancient tree. Flowers like pink snow—"

Crabapples!

The floral brooch!

Stella once said it held precious memories with Mr. Alistair.

"To Mount Rainier! Now!"

The driver blinked. "But the villa—"

"Crabapples first." Adrian pulled out a thick wad of bills. "I'm chartering your car."

The rustle of cash made the man's eyes gleam.

"Buckle up! That place is remote—would've missed it if I hadn't gotten lost last—"

Tires screeched as the taxi shot into the night.