Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 251

It was just a small favor.

Suddenly, it was just the two of them left in the car. Bonnie wasn't particularly bothered; she leaned against the window, watching Victor help the stranded tourists shovel snow.

Lawrence quietly observed Bonnie through the rearview mirror. After a few seconds, he abruptly lowered his head and opened his door. "Stay in your seat. I'm going out to help. It's... it's freezing out there."

Bonnie blinked in surprise. Before she could react, the man was already out of the car. His gait was deliberate, almost shuffling, and his back wasn't straight—he was slightly hunched over.

Against the stark white snow, his all-black figure looked tall and lean.

And yet, there was still that inexplicable sense of familiarity.

Bonnie pressed her lips together, watching Victor and her rideshare companion help the tourists clear the snow. They tried to push the SUV, but the young driver was inexperienced and panicked, failing to maneuver it out.

Victor secured the tow rope and went back to reposition their car. Bonnie watched as the silent, mysterious man climbed into the driver's seat of the orange beast.

Through the windshield, it was obvious his driving skills were top-notch. His movements were steady, and he coordinated perfectly with Victor.

Within moments, they managed to haul the heavy orange SUV out of the snow and back onto the main road.

The tourists showered him with effusive thanks. He merely gave a stiff nod before dragging his heavy body back to their car. He climbed in without a single word.

Victor was used to all kinds of passengers. "You've got some skills behind the wheel, man. That patch is pure ice. Honestly, even without the tow rope, it looked like you could have gotten it out yourself."

Lawrence remained silent. His hands were trembling slightly, and he pressed them firmly against his thighs. Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, a flash of agony swept through his eyes.

While pushing the car earlier, the panicked kid behind the wheel had hit the gas too hard. The heavy vehicle had slid backward, slamming into Lawrence's shin. Though it wasn't broken, the pain was blinding.

Murphy's Law struck without fail. When they came out after their meal, the car actually had a scratch. An anxious old man stood next to it, having somehow scraped his e-bike against the Koenigsegg's flawless exterior.

A glaring scratch marred the silver-gray paint.

The old man's scooter was busted, too, refusing to start. He frantically tried to explain that he had swerved to yield to someone and hit the car by accident. Knowing the supercar was unbelievably expensive, he pleaded for mercy on the repair costs.

Lawrence hadn't asked him for a dime. Instead, he helped the old guy push the scooter to the side and then used his own car to tow the broken-down bike all the way back to the man's house.

It had been a scene just like this one. Lawrence was wearing a black windbreaker and sunglasses, navigating the steering wheel with one hand while giving hand signals out the window with the other.

That old memory unexpectedly crashed into the scene that had just unfolded. They overlapped, then slowly drifted apart.

In a daze, Bonnie had a fleeting sensation that the man sitting behind the wheel of that orange beast felt just like Lawrence.