My Dreamy Old Husband novel Chapter 730

The butler left submissively.

Michael stroked the cat in his arms every once in a while. His hair had turned grey as his world descended thoroughly into the boundless darkness. He would spend the rest of his life year after year in endless suffering that he couldn’t free himself from… until a silvery voice spoke.

“Daddy, can you pat my head?”

He raised his eyes to see a cute little girl standing in front of him; she placed her hands on his knees while staring hopefully at him.

…

Meanwhile, a nameless town in Africa sat in the middle of a desert. It was very much out of the way; there weren’t any resources available, nor was it a place of strategic military importance. Miraculously, the war hadn’t spread to this town, so it remained peaceful and harmonious for the time being.

However, the violent atmosphere of its surroundings still affected this land with each passing day. The situation in this town became increasingly tense; drugs were rampant, and violence kept increasing day by day.

The owner of the only bookstore in town was a Caucasian lady.

Businesses that made the most money in such circumstances would always be hospitals, funeral homes, and shops that sold firearms. The bookstore barely had any customers, but it had been operating for many years; meanwhile, the beautiful Caucasian lady had been here for two years.

The light from the setting sun shone into the bookstore through its French windows, warming up several bookshelves that seemed to have existed for decades. The atmosphere was so comfortable that it made people sleepy.

The young lady was reading a book with great concentration in front of the French window. Wearing a white dress, she looked like a white butterfly that was about to spread its wings and fly away under the setting sun. Her soft, jet-black hair was as fluffy as the clouds, and it was so long that it touched the polished floor.

After reading the book for a while, she closed it. Staring blankly at her reflection in the French window, she pondered over a question. Who am I?

She knew that her name was Sophia and her husband was called Quinton, but she knew nothing else.

Based on what other people had told her, she and Quinton were a married couple from Cethos who came here because of a job transfer. However, they hadn’t expected to run into conflicts in a small country. Both of them had been injured; Quinton was rendered impotent, whereas she suffered a brain injury and could no longer remember who she was.

Leaning against a bookshelf, she took out the pendant she wore around her neck and stared blankly at it. This was the only thing that was linked to her past.

The pendant was a Goddess of Mercy figurine made of obsidian. It seemed to be an amulet with some alphabets engraved on it, but the alphabets were blurred using some unknown material. However, if one touched the engraving carefully, he or she could still make out the words carved on it—Cooper Mitchell.

One could see the whole town from a glance out of the French window, which looked peaceful and harmonious. Just then, several cars arrived and parked into the parking spaces in front of the small three-story building.

Sophia knew that Quinton had come home; he worked somewhere else and could only come back once every fortnight. She hastily went downstairs to greet him.

It’s strange; he is my husband, but I don’t seem to have any feelings for him. Perhaps it’s because of my brain injury, she thought to herself.

Quinton got out of the car. He was quite worn out by his journey, but he looked happy from head to toe when he saw the lady walking out of the bookstore.

She looked so beautiful in the white dress; her beauty stirred his heart and made him unable to avert his eyes.

At long last, she’s completely mine, he thought to himself.

“You’re back, Quinton.” Sophia walked up to him and grabbed her husband’s arm with a smile. Quinton held her hand and said, “I’m back.”

With that, they walked hand-in-hand into the bookstore. Dressed in a black suit, Quinton exuded the air of a noble intellectual. He often wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that made him seem out of place in this town. However, he and Sophia looked ideally suited as they stood together.

Since there were only a few ingredients available locally, Sophia planted most of their food herself. She had transformed the garden behind the bookstore into a vegetable plot by planting towel gourds, tomatoes, and other vegetables. How fortunate it is to have a bite of Cethosian dishes at this very moment! What’s more, my wife planted these vegetables herself.