How to Train Your Ex-Billionaire novel Chapter 162

It must have been spring in the dream. The sun was bright and warm, its rays spilling into every corner of the yard, and onto her.

Her younger self was squatting in the yard, playing with something, when her father suddenly appeared from behind, sweeping her up and spinning her around, playing airplane.

She giggled with delight, her laughter echoing throughout the yard.

Her grandmother sat on a small stool nearby, trimming vegetables, watching them play with a smile. Even her mother, who always had a stern expression, was smiling…

When Winifred woke up, the memory of the dream brought fresh tears to her eyes.

She didn't know why she'd had such a dream; it had been a long time since she’d dreamt of anything so beautiful.

Perhaps it was a deep-seated longing, or perhaps after being hurt in reality, she could only escape into her dreams to taste a little sweetness.

It was only when Winifred heard a noise outside that she remembered Yvan might still be there.

She quietly got out of bed and walked into the living room.

Steam was rising from the kitchen, where Yvan was cooking something.

He was making tomato pasta again.

Yvan was staring blankly at the boiling water when he suddenly sensed a gaze on his back. He turned instinctively and saw Winifred standing there.

Yvan tightened his grip on the utensils. “You’re awake? The pastas are almost ready.”

Winifred didn't say anything, just sat down on the sofa.

Yvan brought out the pastas.

He placed one of the bowls in front of her. “Are you hungry? Have some pastas.”

Winifred lowered her eyes. “Once we finish the pastas, you should leave.”

Yvan stiffened.

He didn't know what she meant by 'leave'—whether she meant for him to leave her apartment, or…

Winifred said no more, picking up her fork and eating in small bites.

For a time, the room was utterly silent, broken only by the occasional sound of them eating.

Eventually, the pastas were finished. Yvan took the initiative to clear the bowls and wash them in the kitchen.

Winifred said, “Just leave them there. I’ll wash them later. You should go.”

Yvan pretended not to hear and insisted on washing them.

But the inevitable always comes. When Yvan came out of the kitchen, he found that Winifred had already opened the door, a clear sign that she was seeing him out.

“You should go. Don’t come looking for me again.”

Yvan clenched his fists. “Winifred… please don’t make me leave. Give me a chance to atone.”

“You have nothing to atone for. I’m the one who sinned,” Winifred said numbly. “The miscarriage had nothing to do with you, and my grandmother’s death had nothing to do with you. Everything was my fault. So you don’t need to atone. Your only mistake was letting me down back then.”