Chapter 715: You Are Going To Marry Me
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"Yes, but I am not you. It's not the same with me. I am Emily's best friend, okay?" Rita argued.
"All right, you win. Then what about Beryl? She didn't recognize Emily, either, and she is her own daughter!" David replied, reminding Rita that she was not the only one who failed to recognize Emily.
He hoped his words would make Rita feel better, but unfortunately, Rita was getting more worried.
"You are right…how could Beryl not recognize her own mother? I can't imagine how hard it must have been for Emily, to see that her own daughter couldn't recognize her. Everything is in such a mess!" Rita couldn't help feeling sorry for her best friend.
David had run out options trying to ease Rita. He slowly tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "So, as her best friend you need to stop crying and you need to cheer up and make it up to her. You need to let Emily know that you trust her and she can rely on you to be there for her."
"Yes, I am going to see her now…" Rita stood up.
"Wait…it's already late. Emily might be sleeping. We should go tomorrow morning," David stopped her and suggested.
"That's true…okay," Rita agreed.
In their moment of happiness, Rita and David almost forgot about their son. They went through the report again and again, consumed by the relief it brought them.
Rita was laughing and crying all the same time until she was so exhausted that she leaned against David's arms and fell asleep. While her loyal husband had to carry her to the car before he drove her home.
Meanwhile at the Tyrone Mansion, midnight fell like a rich velvet blanket of black, swallowing up the day, draining the colours to grey and then to nothing at all.
Beryl woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat, even though it wasn't warm in her room. She closed her eyes hoping to fall asleep again, but that didn't work. The room was entirely dark and so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Beryl stared at the ceiling with her eyes wide open, disappointment hiding behind her long eyelashes.
She was going over multiple thought in her mind, most of which filled her with an unbearable sorrow. But the one constant thought that kept her up was—Dylan.
That was who she couldn't stop thinking about. Needless to say, she was worried about him. 'What is he doing now? Is he okay? How is his head? Is it still hurting?
It must have been painful, falling off the staircase.
Blood gushed out the moment his forehead made contact with the hard floor. His face was covered in blood. God, I really hope h
s Dylan quickly apologized, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'll stop now. Please, Beryl, don't be angry at me. Are you feeling cold?"
Beryl looked down and realized that the reason she was shivering was that she was only wearing her pajamas and it was quite chilly. "Yeah, I think I should go."
"You can have my blanket," Dylan grabbed her hand and made her sit on his bed. He then put his blanket over Beryl until she looked like a ball and then sat beside her with a satisfied smile on his face.
'What's with that silly smile on his face, ' Beryl thought. "Are you a fool? What about you? Aren't you feeling cold, too?"
"Nah! I don't feel cold because I am your hero…" Before Dylan could finish, he sneezed uncontrollably.
Beryl couldn't help laughing at him, "Who do you think you are? Superman? Come here, I don't want you to catch a cold."
"You mean…" Dylan was a little confused, and his ears started to burn up, "You mean, we share the blanket? In the bed?"
His voice grew lower and lower as if he was trying to hide himself.
"What are you thinking?" Beryl shook her head, "This is your room, and you should stay in your own bed. I am going back to my room."
"Oh…you are right…" Dylan replied with a disappointing look, "Then I will escort my princess to her quarters."
Dylan walked Beryl back to her room. As he watched the door close in front of him he felt the light in his heart dim. But just as he was about to leave, the door cracked open again.
Beryl's adorable face poked out and she whispered, "Good night, Dylan."
"Good night, Beryl." Her voice made Dylan's heart flutter and he floated back into his room like a butterfly.
'She is so cute.'
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"Yes, but I am not you. It's not the same with me. I am Emily's best friend, okay?" Rita argued.
"All right, you win. Then what about Beryl? She didn't recognize Emily, either, and she is her own daughter!" David replied, reminding Rita that she was not the only one who failed to recognize Emily.
He hoped his words would make Rita feel better, but unfortunately, Rita was getting more worried.
"You are right…how could Beryl not recognize her own mother? I can't imagine how hard it must have been for Emily, to see that her own daughter couldn't recognize her. Everything is in such a mess!" Rita couldn't help feeling sorry for her best friend.
David had run out options trying to ease Rita. He slowly tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "So, as her best friend you need to stop crying and you need to cheer up and make it up to her. You need to let Emily know that you trust her and she can rely on you to be there for her."
"Yes, I am going to see her now…" Rita stood up.
"Wait…it's already late. Emily might be sleeping. We should go tomorrow morning," David stopped her and suggested.
"That's true…okay," Rita agreed.
In their moment of happiness, Rita and David almost forgot about their son. They went through the report again and again, consumed by the relief it brought them.
Rita was laughing and crying all the same time until she was so exhausted that she leaned against David's arms and fell asleep. While her loyal husband had to carry her to the car before he drove her home.
Meanwhile at the Tyrone Mansion, midnight fell like a rich velvet blanket of black, swallowing up the day, draining the colours to grey and then to nothing at all.
Beryl woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat, even though it wasn't warm in her room. She closed her eyes hoping to fall asleep again, but that didn't work. The room was entirely dark and so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Beryl stared at the ceiling with her eyes wide open, disappointment hiding behind her long eyelashes.
She was going over multiple thought in her mind, most of which filled her with an unbearable sorrow. But the one constant thought that kept her up was—Dylan.
That was who she couldn't stop thinking about. Needless to say, she was worried about him. 'What is he doing now? Is he okay? How is his head? Is it still hurting?
It must have been painful, falling off the staircase.
Blood gushed out the moment his forehead made contact with the hard floor. His face was covered in blood. God, I really hope h
s Dylan quickly apologized, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'll stop now. Please, Beryl, don't be angry at me. Are you feeling cold?"
Beryl looked down and realized that the reason she was shivering was that she was only wearing her pajamas and it was quite chilly. "Yeah, I think I should go."
"You can have my blanket," Dylan grabbed her hand and made her sit on his bed. He then put his blanket over Beryl until she looked like a ball and then sat beside her with a satisfied smile on his face.
'What's with that silly smile on his face, ' Beryl thought. "Are you a fool? What about you? Aren't you feeling cold, too?"
"Nah! I don't feel cold because I am your hero…" Before Dylan could finish, he sneezed uncontrollably.
Beryl couldn't help laughing at him, "Who do you think you are? Superman? Come here, I don't want you to catch a cold."
"You mean…" Dylan was a little confused, and his ears started to burn up, "You mean, we share the blanket? In the bed?"
His voice grew lower and lower as if he was trying to hide himself.
"What are you thinking?" Beryl shook her head, "This is your room, and you should stay in your own bed. I am going back to my room."
"Oh…you are right…" Dylan replied with a disappointing look, "Then I will escort my princess to her quarters."
Dylan walked Beryl back to her room. As he watched the door close in front of him he felt the light in his heart dim. But just as he was about to leave, the door cracked open again.
Beryl's adorable face poked out and she whispered, "Good night, Dylan."
"Good night, Beryl." Her voice made Dylan's heart flutter and he floated back into his room like a butterfly.
'She is so cute.'
"Yes, but I am not you. It's not the same with me. I am Emily's best friend, okay?" Rita argued. "All right, you win. Then what about Beryl? She didn't recognize Emily, either, and she is her own daughter!" David replied, reminding Rita that she was not the only one who failed to recognize Emily. He hoped his words would make Rita feel better, but unfortunately, Rita was getting more worried. "You are righthow could Beryl not recognize her own mother? I can't imagine how hard it must have been for Emily, to see that her own daughter couldn't recognize her. Everything is in such a mess!" Rita couldn't help feeling sorry for her best friend. David had run out options trying to ease Rita. He slowly tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "So, as her best friend you need to stop crying and you need to cheer up and make it up to her. You need to let Emily know that you trust her and she can rely on you to be there for her.""Yes, I am going to see her now" Rita stood up. "Waitit's already late. Emily might be sleeping. We should go tomorrow morning," David stopped her and suggested. "That's trueokay," Rita agreed. In their moment of happiness, Rita and David almost forgot about their son. They went through the report again and again, consumed by the relief it brought them. Rita was laughing and crying all the same time until she was so exhausted that she leaned against David's arms and fell asleep. While her loyal husband had to carry her to the car before he drove her home. Meanwhile at the Tyrone Mansion, midnight fell like a rich velvet blanket of black, swallowing up the day, draining the colours to grey and then to nothing at all. Beryl woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat, even though it wasn't warm in her room. She closed her eyes hoping to fall asleep again, but that didn't work. The room was entirely dark and so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Beryl stared at the ceiling with her eyes wide open, disappointment hiding behind her long eyelashes. She was going over multiple thought in her mind, most of which filled her with an unbearable sorrow. But the one constant thought that kept her up wasDylan. That was who she couldn't stop thinking about. Needless to say, she was worried about him. 'What is he doing now? Is he okay? How is his head? Is it still hurting? It must have been painful, falling off the staircase. Blood gushed out the moment his forehead made contact with the hard floor. His face was covered in blood. God, I really hope hs Dylan quickly apologized, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'll stop now. Please, Beryl, don't be angry at me. Are you feeling cold?"Beryl looked down and realized that the reason she was shivering was that she was only wearing her pajamas and it was quite chilly. "Yeah, I think I should go.""You can have my blanket," Dylan grabbed her hand and made her sit on his bed. He then put his blanket over Beryl until she looked like a ball and then sat beside her with a satisfied smile on his face. 'What's with that silly smile on his face, ' Beryl thought. "Are you a fool? What about you? Aren't you feeling cold, too?""Nah! I don't feel cold because I am your hero" Before Dylan could finish, he sneezed uncontrollably. Beryl couldn't help laughing at him, "Who do you think you are? Superman? Come here, I don't want you to catch a cold.""You mean" Dylan was a little confused, and his ears started to burn up, "You mean, we share the blanket? In the bed?"His voice grew lower and lower as if he was trying to hide himself. "What are you thinking?" Beryl shook her head, "This is your room, and you should stay in your own bed. I am going back to my room.""Ohyou are right" Dylan replied with a disappointing look, "Then I will escort my princess to her quarters."Dylan walked Beryl back to her room. As he watched the door close in front of him he felt the light in his heart dim. But just as he was about to leave, the door cracked open again. Beryl's adorable face poked out and she whispered, "Good night, Dylan.""Good night, Beryl." Her voice made Dylan's heart flutter and he floated back into his room like a butterfly. 'She is so cute.'
