"Let's go, too." Tristan finally felt relieved, wrapping his arm around Monica, and guiding her to the passenger side of the car. He opened the car door for her, feeling as if he was taking the first step of a long march.
Monica was a bit puzzled. Everything was fine when they arrived. How did the car tire get damaged while they were just having a meal? What are the odds?
Tristan got into the driver's seat, buckled up, and started the car. Glancing sideways, he noticed the girl staring at him unblinkingly, her eyes filled with suspicion.
"What's wrong?" he asked, smiling a bit sheepishly.
"Did you puncture the tire?" Monica asked, her tone more curious than accusatory.
Tristan laughed, "Wasn't I dining with you all? I didn't even go to the restroom."
"Did you have someone else do it then?" The girl changed her question, her suspicion growing stronger.
Tristan shifted his gaze forward, his face still wearing a smile. This time, he did not refute so quickly. His deep eyes softened as he stared into the distance. He had taken great pains and hoped everything would go as planned.
Monica, the clever girl, already knew the answer and did not ask further. She remained silent, her heart filled with gratitude. Tristan was really good; he treated her matters as his own and did so earnestly.
Running such a large company must keep him very busy. A CEO's daily schedule is always packed, yet he still found time to help her fulfill her dreams.
"What are you thinking?" He gently asked, his warm fingers reaching out and intertwining with hers, as if transmitting a bit of strength, "Don't worry, everything will be fine, they will reconcile."
"How can I ever repay you?" Monica turned her eyes to him, deeply moved, "You've been so kind to me, yet I have nothing to offer you."
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