?<strong>Chapter 1291:</strong>


    Waylon, jolted by Jenny’s words, turned to look. But at that precise moment, Evie averted her gaze. Without hesitation, she turned and walked away, leaving only her retreating silhouette behind.


    “Oh, never mind, she’s gone. Guess I was wrong—she wasn’t looking at you after all. Shame, though. You missed out. She was adorable.”


    Waylon, however, wasn’t listening. His gaze was fixed on the disappearing figure, his mind clouded with suspicion. For a fleeting moment, he thought he had seen her—the person who had torn his world apart. But that was impossible.


    She had no reason to be here. By now, she should have finished celebrating Andrew’s birthday and returned home, nowhere near this ce.


    Waylon tore his eyes away, a hollow feeling settling in his chest. He nced at the bottle in his hand before setting it down on the bench beside him.


    “Jenny, I think I’m drunk. Take me home.”


    Jenny blinked, startled. Waylon, who had stubbornly insisted on drinking all night, now suddenly wanted to go home? But she wasn’t about to question it. Relieved, she pped her hands and stood.


    “Alright! I’ll take you home. But don’t forget—you owe me for this.”


    “Yeah. I’ll remember. Thanks. Keep the car that takes me back.”


    A car? Jenny was a die-hard car enthusiast, but even with her fame, her wealth couldn’tpare to Waylon’s. The son of Johns Group’s chairman had ess to luxuries she could only dream of.


    She had admired his car for the longest time but never dared to indulge in such extravagance herself. Usually, she was content with just borrowing it for a joyride. And now, just like that, it was hers? It seemed Waylon only saw her as a close friend—using this as an excuse to gift her something he knew she wanted.


    She stared at the keys in disbelief before quickly tucking them into her palm, a giddy thrill running through her. With renewed energy, Jenny took him home, making sure he was safe and settled. Knowing he was far too intoxicated to manage alone, she even hired a personal caregiver to look after him.


    While waiting for the caregiver to arrive, she kept an eye on him, ensuring he wasfortable. She even poured him a ss of water, setting it down beside him.


    As she ced it on the table, she heard him mumble something. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow.


    “Do you need something?”


    But his lips moved just enough for her to catch one word.


    “Evie?”


    Her brows knitted in confusion. She repeated it under her breath, rolling the unfamiliar name on her tongue.


    Jenny couldn’t quite catch what Waylon murmured, so she simply shook her head, surrendering to the mystery. Once the caregiver arrived, she briskly exined the essential requirements before taking her leave.


    Meanwhile, Evie wandered aimlessly through the streets of M, quiet loneliness settling over her. She crouched down at the roadside, lost in thought. A flower vendor, noticing her forlorn expression, gave her a gentle pat before handing her a delicate bloom.


    “Thank you,” Evie murmured, epting the flower.


    She gazed at it—one of the signature blossoms sold only on M’s bustling streets. She stared at it nkly for a moment, then instinctively took out her phone to capture the moment, preparing to share it on social media.


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