"You misheard me. I didn't say anything."
"You did! I heard it! You said you missed me."
"Oh… so you did hear me clearly."
Jonathan paused, amused by her clever response.
He chuckled softly, and Anneliese smiled in response.
"You missed me? Should I come find you?"
"No! We agreed—just once a week!" she insisted, trying to maintain appearances for Grandma.
He sighed, feeling helpless.
Trying to change the topic, she asked, "Have you returned to Halden?"
"No, still in Oceaton. I'll go back tonight and let you know my schedule."
He reported his movements to reassure her, making Anneliese smile faintly.
"Okay, I'll hang up now."
The thrill of sneaking a call like this made her heart race.
It was ridiculous. She felt like they were running a secret undercover operation.
Jonathan murmured, "Baby… I missed you, too."
She hung up, his voice lingering in her ears.
She rubbed her tingling ears and looked down, then deleted the contact name "Hubby" from her phone.
Suddenly, a scene from many years ago flashed through her mind.
At her parents' memorial, he had gone to pay his respects. She led him to the back of the hall and had him offer a bouquet of flowers.
At that time, she had also been full of anger and resentment toward Jonathan.
If it weren't for saving him, she wouldn't have lost her parents and her younger brother.
Mr. Belmort, her father's colleague and closest friend—a firefighter—put an arm around her and said, "Anne, your father was a hero. That boy was someone your father saved with his life. If your father's spirit is watching, do you think he would want that young man to live a full life, or remain trapped in shadows?"
Jonathan wasn't the only person her father had saved. He had saved many lives, always giving everything he had.
Every time her father rescued someone, even if he was bleeding or injured, he would be so happy he could hardly contain himself.
Anne knew her father would never blame Jonathan. Of course, her father wanted that young man to live well!
Could it be that just because of that small act of kindness, I became unforgettable? If so, he really is too easy to deceive.
Wait—what am I even thinking?
What nonsense—so narcissistic of me.


She had never been this openly eager before. Maybe her grandmother did provoke her rebellious streak.
Still… Some emotions only grow stronger the more they're suppressed, restrained, or blocked—they become impossible to control.
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