?Chapter 1417:


    “Let’s choose a restaurant, then. Anything you want to eat?” he asked softly, kissing her forehead and cupping her face, his eyes full of quiet devotion.


    “Stew. I haven’t had stew in ages,” Christina said with a hopeful grin. “How about we get that tonight?”


    “Okay. Stew it is.” Dn reached for her hand, and together they stepped out into the cool evening, leaving the mansion behind. From the windows, the household staff watched with envy, unable to ignore the tender way Dn cared for Christina.


    Anyone could see he had fallen for her, head over heels. Gone was the man he used to be. Where there had once been coldness, only affection remained. In the past, his smiles had been rare and fleeting. With Christina by his side, happiness seemed to live in his eyes. If only everyone could find a love as true as theirs.


    Several days slipped by, and Brendon returned to the Dawson estate, intending to talk to Christina again. For days, he’d tried to keep his distance, but thetest online scandal about her had pushed him over the edge. He needed to see her.


    Recently, old memories of his life with Christina kept invading his mind, refusing to be forgotten. Her quiet endurance—and his own harshness—had begun to change how he saw everything about their past.


    For years, he’d resented Christina without cause, blind to his own cruelty. Back then, stuck in his wheelchair, unable to walk, he’dshed out at her for every disappointment that crossed his path—never recognizing it wasn’t her fault. Every frustration, every dark mood, he’d hurled straight at her, treating her as nothing more than a target for his pain.


    As he revisited those days in his mind, guilt crept in, heavy and unrelenting. Slowly, Brendon began to understand that their marriage hadn’t been nothing but hardship. There had been light, too—moments he’d been too bitter to notice before. Now, only by reying the past, did he see those memories for what they were.


    When Christina spotted him, her gaze was cold. She looked right through him, as if he were invisible. That chill stung more than any insult.


    Brendon’s voice was soft as he asked, “Christina, have you seen what people are saying about you online?”


    Christina’s frown deepened, her displeasure evident at the way Brendon spoke her name. Turning toward him, her expression remainedposed and detached. “Mr. Dawson, please address me as Miss. Thank you.”


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    Her words were courteous, yet there was a chill to them—polite, but unmistakably distant.


    The realization struck Brendon like a needle to the heart, sharp and sudden. Memories of their three years together washed over him—her patience, her softness, the quiet devotion with which she once cared for him.


    Back then, Christina hadn’t been this cold, this unreachable; there had still been warmth flickering in her eyes, a light that had long since gone out.


    Brendon gazed at her, his chest tightening, and forced her name out in a strained whisper. “Christina.”


    She didn’t so much as nce back. After tending to the flowers, Christina turned calmly to leave the garden.


    “Christina.” Brendon called again, striding forward and reaching out to pull her into his arms from behind.


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