Chapter 182
When they arrived downstairs, Lennon parked the car, got out, opened the passenger door, unfastened the seatbelt, and lifted Mariela. horizontally.
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Perhaps tired from all the commotion, Mariela now quietly leaned against him, breathing evenly and deeply, as if she had fallen asleep.
Lennon was tall and slender, standing close to 1.9 meters in height. Mariela, on the other hand, had a delicate figure, fitting snugly in his arms, with a petite and submissive posture.
Lennon held the girl until she fell asleep, and his footsteps slowed down, carefully, afraid that walking too fast would wake her up.
When Lennon arrived at the apartment door, he used Mariela’s fingerprint to unlock and push open the door, and turned on the living room light.
The living room was spacious and bright, with clean and clear windows.
Lennon carried the person into the bedroom and gently placed them on the bed.
The girl, who had already fallen asleep, pouted her lips, grumbled, and grabbed onto Lennon’s shirt sleeve, refusing to let go.
“Are you awake?” Lennon leaned slightly, with his hands on either side of Mariela’s body, looking down at her with lowered eyes.
“Je… Mariela’s eyes remained closed, and she moved her lips, softly uttering a word, “Je…”
“Jaime?” Lennon squinted his eyes slightly, his deep, ink–black eyes gleaming with a cold light.
Jaime?
Jaime Herman?
She was drunk and still shouting Jaime?
He was drunk and talking nonsense, saying that he was not good in that aspect. What’s e
seven worse, he dared to mention Jaime’s name?
By the way, he had forgotten the reason why he had initially gone to the bar!
He was originally going to find her to settle accounts.
She had never tried it before, so how could she know that he couldn’t do it?
Lennon furrowed his brow, feeling a chill run down his spine.
He was really heartless.
He stood up straight, his gaze falling on Mariela, looking down on her with a superior attitude, “Are you still thinking about him?”
Although the girl couldn’t hear, Lennon still asked.
The air was filled with a strong sour smell.
Whose vinegar jar was knocked over?
“Mariela,” Lennon’s voice was deep and seemingly threatening, “think carefully before you speak.”
The next second, the girl’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, and she restlessly twisted her body on the bed, turning over and burying her face in the pillow. In a coquettish tone, she muttered, “Jest, tell a jest…”
Lennon: “I loved her, but she didn’t feel the same way. We spent a lot of time together, but it was always just as friends. I tried to tell her how I felt, but I couldn’t find the right words. Eventually, I had to accept that we were never going to be more than friends.”
