A fleeting look of affection appeared in her eyes.
She remained fixated on the spot where he had been, even after his tall figure had vanished from view.
The sound of her ringing phone snapped her back to reality.
She hesitated for a moment before answering.
The worried voice of her mother came through. “Elizabeth, it’s getting late. Where are you? Why haven’t you returned yet? I’m sorry about earlier. I won’t make you stay any longer. We’ll leave in a few days.”
Elizabeth’s mind wandered back to the man she had just met, and a small smile formed on her lips.
In a cheerful voice, she replied, “Mom, I’ve decided to stay in Seamarsh a little while longer.”
It was close to eight in the evening when Matthew reached the Clark family villa.
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He shrugged off his coat as he entered the dining room, where a delicious spread awaited on the table.
“Sorry for being late.” Matthew apologized to Stella and the rest, settling into his seat beside her. “There was a car accident on the way that delayed me a bit.”
Stella promptly took hold of his arm, concerned. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
Matthew shook his head. “A woman, who seemed drunk, suddenly ran in front of my car. I took her to the hospital and waited until she got checked out before returning.”
He gently held Stella’s hand, reassuring her, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”
Hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Even Waldo, not known for his smiles, relaxed a bit and said, “Thank God you’re okay. Just be more careful when driving in the future.
Let’s dig in now.”
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“Okay,” Matthew replied.
Just then, Stella’s phone chimed. It was a video call from Clint.
Politely excusing herself from the company around her, she swiftly responded.
Clint’s cheerful face greeted her on the screen. “Stella, it’s Christmas Eve. How are you and Matthew marking the occasion?”
Stella proudly tilted her phone to display the feast. “Grandpa, we’re celebrating with Matthew’s grandparents in their lovely villa. How about you?”
Clint’s grin widened as he shifted the camera to reveal the bustling kitchen. “Juliette is tackling a turkey. Three attempts in, but I’m patient, waiting for her to…”
Before he could finish, Juliette’s protest echoed in the background.
“Grandpa, don’t broadcast my failures. I promise this one will be a success.”