Chapter 389: Chapter 389: Rare Apology
Her voice was soft and sweet, like a lover’s coquettish whisper; even when she spoke harsh words, it was hard to resent her.
The Hannah of today was not the girl who once had humbly implored him not to leave. He had once lamented that Hannah Winter had only a pretty face but no spirit, but the Hannah of today seemed to have a completely new soul.
Lively and captivating, vibrant and flirty.
George River couldn’t help but darken his gaze, and even the expression on his face softened a bit, "I know that you didn’t want to break up initially. Maybe it was my cold attitude that hurt you. I’m sorry."
A proud man like George River had never sincerely apologized to anyone, but this time, he did so to Hannah with a shred of sincerity.
He paused for a moment then added, "If you want to take revenge on me, you can, but I hope that you won’t use yourself as a pawn..."
"Mr. River." Hannah interrupted before he could finish, "perhaps I would have been happier if you hadn’t added the second part."
She met his gaze; in her eyes was seriousness, mingled with a kind of sympathetic condescension. She chuckled lightly, "You should apologize, but not to me."
George River asked: "What?"
Hannah curved her lips, her smile not reaching her eyes, her tone slightly icy, "The Hannah Winter whom you have hurt is no longer here. You, on your own, pushed the humble girl who loved you into an abyss where she shattered."
Her tone was so light, as if she was narrating just another mundane story. Her dark eyes were tranquil, devoid of any warmth.
Meeting her gaze was like being pushed into a icy lake.
His breath caught.
In a moment of clarity, George River seemed to see the familiar girl from the past.
Standing in the same spot, under the peach tree, her eyes brimmed with unmistakable love, her face shy, just like the blossoming peach flowers.
In her eyes, it appeared that he was the only one reflected there.
Only him.
His memories shattered into tiny pieces. In his ears echoed her soft voice, "Mr. River, I was just joking."
George River didn’t respond, he just fixed his gaze on the woman before him.
Hannah looked at him, her voice tender and delicate, "I often read such things in novels, like ’You ignore me today, tomorrow you will find you can’t afford me’, or ’The past me has been buried by my own hands, the present me is a new me."
"So juvenile." Hannah shook her head, "I don’t like it."
His mood became strangely complicated at that moment. As he watched the playful woman in front of him, he felt a sudden pang of sadness. "Hannah, I don’t want to see you like this. If you want to cry, you can cry."
He thought, perhaps Hannah had been repressing herself too much.
Hearing this, Hannah just chuckled and shook her head, looking up to the top of the peach tree, "George, do you remember this tree?"
George shifted his gaze from Hannah and likewise looked at the peach tree, his expression sobered and he responded indifferently, "I remember."
The tree from two years ago.
Her pink dress fluttered in the wind, a belt of the same color emphasizing her slim waist, thin enough to grasp with one hand.
Hannah stood with her hands behind her back, a charming smile on her face, "Two years ago, I begged the owner of this peach grove for a long time before she agreed to let me hang a red silk on it."
Peach trees are said to bring marital bliss, attracting couples who come with balloons, hoping for enduring love.
