Who’s the Dog Now? novel Chapter 162

She couldn't believe Lennon had noticed a detail that everyone else had missed.

And from the grim look on his face, Naomi knew he was genuinely worried.

“It was just a small accident.”

“By the way, Lennon, could you do me a favor and take me to the hospital?”

“I just need to get some ointment.”

Lennon, of course, didn't refuse.

As they got into Lennon's car, Naomi noticed it wasn't the same one from before.

“Lennon, didn't you go home earlier?”

Naomi asked, curious.

Lennon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his gaze drifting out the window to avoid her eyes.

“I decided last minute not to go back. A friend of mine has a car wash around here, so I dropped my car off to get it cleaned.”

Naomi said, 'Oh,' then asked, “So this is your friend’s car?”

Lennon replied, “This is one I bought myself.”

Naomi let out a 'wow.' “That’s really impressive.”

Lennon shot Naomi a look that was somewhere between a smile and a smirk.

For a guy from a wealthy family like him, buying a car was a simple matter.

But in Naomi's eyes, it was a symbol of his independence.

Lennon had a vague feeling that the way Naomi saw him was different from how others did.

He hadn't had a chance to ask before, but now seemed like a good time. “In your eyes, do I seem like someone who can't even afford a car?”

Naomi: ?

“I never thought that!”

Naomi realized her praise could be misinterpreted and quickly tried to backtrack. “I just meant...“

The more flustered she got, the more her mind went blank.

In reality, the car wasn't that expensive—a few hundred thousand. For people in their circle, that was less than half a month's allowance.

“So, instead of asking what a little kid could possibly have to be sad about, you’re seriously asking if his method actually works?”

“Ah…” Naomi’s mouth slowly fell open.

She said, a bit awkwardly, “Well… I was just curious.”

It was mainly because she was dealing with a lot of negative emotions herself.

As she thought about it, Naomi couldn't help but laugh too.

She really was grasping at straws. What could a child possibly be upset about? Not getting to watch his favorite show, play a game he wanted, or eat something he craved.

It was hardly on the same level as her own troubles.

Besides, a child could write a note, put it in a jar, and forget about it the next day. She couldn't.

Her problems would linger for a long time.

She couldn't forget them even if she wanted to.

“Naomi, there’s nothing you can’t get through.”