Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 17

Bonnie slipped into the front seat beside Daniel, quietly picking up on his tense mood. She didn’t ask, just turned her head and watched the city rolling by outside the window.

At a red light, Daniel found himself stealing a glance at her profile—sharp lines, quiet coldness. They’d met thanks to a mutual friend at the firm. Since then, their conversations on WeChat had always been brief, almost too brief. Bonnie never typed more than a handful of words at a time.

She’d never shared anything about her past, not her relationships, not even the smallest personal like or dislike. There was nothing for Daniel to go on. He didn’t even know how things had ended between Bonnie and her ex, the one who looked like he came from old money.

And now, that man’s Maybach was following just behind them.

Daniel had this weird feeling, like any minute that flashy car would floor it and rear-end him without a second thought.

Traffic thickened as they got close to the restaurant. Daniel tried to resist the urge to ask, but finally, he blurted out, “Bonnie, how many relationships have you had?”

She seemed surprised, then looked down a little, her voice soft. “Just one.”

He pressed on, trying to sound casual. “Would it be okay if I ask why you broke up? I mean... you’re so gorgeous. Honestly, if it were me, I don’t think I could ever let go.”

Bonnie stared at her hands, her reply steady, almost flat, nothing like the nervous energy in the air. “My ex died.”

Daniel’s hands stiffened on the steering wheel. He glanced in the mirror at the Maybach still trailing them, its driver sitting straight as ever. Bonnie said he was dead.

That must have left a pretty deep scar.

He didn’t bring it up again. Once they got to the restaurant, he specifically avoided any personal topics.

Dinner was mostly quiet. Bonnie picked at her food, skipping the sashimi, barely eating—it seemed she had a sensitive stomach.

Daniel kept things polite. They chatted about work, stuff at the design institute, real estate, nothing more.

When they finished, Bonnie offered to catch a movie together, but Daniel shook his head and said it was getting late. Maybe next time.

But Lawrence knew he didn’t have the right to say anything anymore.

He leaned against his car for a long time. Window after window lit up in the apartment complex, but he had no clue which one belonged to Bonnie. For all he knew, she could be texting her date right now while he stood out in the dark.

A sharp, bitter ache clawed at Lawrence’s chest. The reality that someone else might end up with Bonnie one day stung like acid—eating away at him from the inside out.

Almost without thinking, he pulled out his phone, typed her number into the search bar. Bonnie’s contact popped up. Her profile picture was just a landscape—rolling fields, distant mountains, clear blue sky.

He tapped through, hoping for more, but her social feed only showed a sunset. He wasn’t a friend, he couldn’t see anything else.

There wasn’t a single photo of Bonnie saved on his phone.

He crushed the cigarette between his fingers and snapped the filter, then peeled off his phone case with one hand. A tiny photo slid out—it was a little crooked, the edges yellowed from being touched too many times.