Chapter 8 He Had Agreed

• "I think maybe we should just forget about it!" Wrapped in a small blanket, Stella spoke with a thick nasal tone, "When I talked to Mr. Marcus today, I was filled with guilt. What if he really starts to have feelings for me because I intentionally caught his attention? Playing with someone's emotions is much worse than stealing their money!"
• She was especially shaken when she heard Marcus speak to her.
• Was he not afraid she would reveal his secret?
• Did he trust her that much?
• Though Stella now understood the reason that Marcus had recognized her as the person who saved him in Hawthorn six months ago—even now ...
• She recalled Marcus' devastatingly handsome face.
• She remembered those bottomless, dark eyes set in an expressionless face.
• She thought about the silent gesture when he handed her the warm towel.
• Her cheeks flushed, and her heart skipped a beat, panic rising within her. Such a good man, but he's paralyzed—what a pity!
• Seeing her flushed face, Joseph picked up the ginger soup again and brought it closer to her. "It's a bit spicy, but it'll warm you up and chase away the cold. Just close your eyes and drink it down. Afterward, cover yourself up and sleep for a bit, and let your mom take your temperature later."
• Stella stared at the bowl in front of her with distaste, letting out a groan, "Why does this conversation always circle back to the soup?"
• "Hehe, be good, drink it."
• "Nooo!"
• "Behave!"
• "No way!"
• Ignoring the banter between father and daughter, Cindy turned to fetch the fever-reducing medicine. As she reached the doorway, her phone suddenly rang from her pocket.
• She pulled it out, her eyes lighting up as she looked at the screen. Turning sharply to the two of them, she announced, "Alina!"
• Stella grew a bit nervous.
• Joseph's face darkened. "Answer it!"
• Cindy swiped her finger across the screen and put the call on speaker. "Hello, Alina."
• "Cindy!" Alina's voice sounded excited. "Marcie just came home, and he agreed to marry your daughter! My husband said they'll come to the Summers in the next couple of days to present the dowry. He also wants Ms. Summer to come over for dinner on Saturday to get to know Marcie better."
• Cindy froze, staring blankly at her husband.
• Why is Marcus acting so unpredictably?
• Given all the coincidences and his situation, caution would have been the most natural approach. How can he agree to the marriage so easily?
• Could it be that, in Marcus' eyes, marrying Stella was insignificant?
• Does Marcus also believe this is just a marriage in name only?
• If so, perfect!
• A flicker of understanding flashed in Joseph's eyes. Years of marital understanding passed silently between them, and Cindy nodded subtly. She spoke into the phone, "Hehe, really? That's wonderful. I'll let Stella know and have her clear her schedule for Saturday!"
• "Hahaha, that's great! Let's settle the plan for Saturday, then. I'll have the driver pick her up!"
• "Alright!" Cindy responded, but then paused, adding, "Oh, by the way, does Mr. Marcus have any particular preferences? Like favorite foods or drinks? And Old Mr. Farley—aside from his love for Earl Grey tea, does he have any other specific tastes?"
• Since the Farleys would be coming to propose in the next few days, the Summers naturally wanted to be well-prepared in their hospitality.
• "Marcie is really hard to read. I doubt even my husband knows what he likes or dislikes. Just take it easy—we're all family now, no need to overthink it!" Alina laughed, cutting off Cindy before she could ask further. "Anyway, my husband's calling for me. I've got to go. We'll catch up tomorrow during our card game!"
• "Oh, okay."
• "Bye-bye!"
• And with that, the call ended.
• In the end, Stella's little illness was defeated by Cindy's fever-reducing medicine, triumphing over Joseph's ginger soup.
• Lying in her soft bed, Stella closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. She tossed and turned restlessly.
• She was going to get married—because he had agreed to marry her.
• But why?
• His intelligence couldn't be so lacking that he wouldn't have even the slightest sense of caution, right?
• "Arghhh! This is so frustrating!"
• Stella kicked her soft feet around in a fit, finally tossing the blanket aside. She sat up abruptly, grabbed her phone and the sticky note hidden under her pillow, and sent out a text message.
• In the rain-washed evening, the sky was painted in dazzling hues of sunset. Marcus sat in his room, slowly pushing his wheelchair toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
• A sudden text alert broke the tranquility.
• He raised an eyebrow in surprise, a faint suspicion crossing his mind. As soon as he picked up his phone, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.
• A message from an unknown number, containing only one word: "Why?"
• He knew it had to be her.
• Marcus didn't reply. Instead, he saved the unknown number in his contacts. Gazing again at the glowing horizon, the countless burdens and conflicts weighing on his heart seemed to dissipate—simply because of her text. It was a strange, almost magical feeling.