"I don't believe it. There is a magazine that introduces you, which said that you had been married twice and that you were very much in love with your first wife." Sherman lifted the magazine in her hand.
Kingsley didn't deny it. His big hand touched her belly, "When I was young, I was always a bit frivolous and arrogant. At that time, I felt that it was tacky to send flowers to a girl I liked. I didn't have that kind of idea, nor did I know that girls liked it. I haven't felt the beauty of it until I'm in my mid-thirties. Now that I'm doing this, do you think I'm naive?"
Sherman laughed, "No, I don't think so. But thank you very much for doing this. I wonder how frivolous you were when you were young."
She met him when he was 34 years old, witnessing his maturity, sensibility, thoughtfulness, tenderness and elegance.
What was he like when he was young?
"If you knew, that would ruin my image in your mind." He smiled.
"I don't care." Sherman thought of something. After hesitating for a moment, she said, "Did your first wife die?"
Kingsley sighed. His thin lips pursed slightly and he answered lightly, "Yes."
He had no intention to continue the topic. Nor did Sherman intend to ask any more questions.
The magazine said that his first wife was dead and that his second wife was seriously ill and now divorced.
But the magazine didn't explain how his first wife died. Sherman could feel that the magazine was trying to convey a message that Kingsley always brought bad luck to his spouses.
She didn't believe that.
In Santabaca.
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