Blind Date Turned Proposal

Naturally, the hotel was off-limits. Josie remained in the car, tilting her head back to gaze at the towering hotel building.

For people with Dexter's status, if something went wrong during the review, there were plenty who might consider jumping off a building. Therefore, the accommodations were always arranged on lower floors, like the third floor, to prevent any communication with the outside world.

Josie was at the back entrance of the hotel. Josie got out of the car, looked up, and counted the rooms once. Still unsure, she counted again. Only then did she pick up a small stone from the ground, and with all her might, she threw it toward the fourth room.

The sound was pleasing to the ear, yet there was no stir within. Josie was slightly winded, and bending down, she picked up a few more pebbles to throw above.

By the time the fifth pebble was tossed, the window was opened from the inside.

Josie looked up, her heart leaping into her throat, terrified that it might be a guard.

The woman was clad in a form-fitting, rose-colored gown, her long hair slightly curled. Her eyes were bright and clear, full of life. On that autumn night, she was catching her breath under the illumination of the streetlights, her face filled with anticipation.

Dexter opened the window, and that was the scene that greeted him.

At that moment, his weary, numb heart suddenly jolted. The gloom slowly dissipated, and her smiling face gradually took over his entire heart.

Only when Josie could finally make out the figure did she allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She stood by the car, instinctively wanting to call out to Dexter.

She held back the words that were on the tip of her tongue. With a wave of her hand toward him, she was brimming with excitement.

Dexter took a few steps back, allowing her to get a clear view of him.

Unable to speak, Josie didn't know how to convey her thoughts. She pointed to her clothes, implying that she had seen the card.

Dexter's knuckles turned white as he gripped the window frame. He nodded slightly, indicating that he, too, had noticed the outfit she was wearing.

It suited her well.

From a considerable distance, Josie strained to make out his face, but it remained indistinct. All that was discernible was his poorly concealed exhaustion and pain. She was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say.

The night was cold, causing fog to form on the car window glass. Josie turned around and carefully, letter by letter, word by word, wrote on it: The signing went smoothly. Upon seeing it, Dexter gave another nod of acknowledgment. He wasn't surprised because he knew she was impressive.

Josie's slender, alabaster fingers paused momentarily before writing: Are you all right?

Dexter's expression remained calm,

a facade masking the tumultuous storm within him that was hard to discern. He suppressed the lump of emotion welling up in his throat and nodded once again.

Seeing him nod, Josie also nodded in response. At this point, she truly didn't know what to say. Given his current status, nothing she could say seemed appropriate.

The two of them remained at a distance, quietly observing each other. The lively hustle and bustle from nearby filled their ears, accompanied by the chirping of cicadas in the autumn air. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Josie then wrote: When will it end?

This time, Dexter shook his head, leaving it unclear whether he didn't know or simply couldn't say.

He lifted his hand, pointing at the moon, then made a gesture for her to head back.

Oddly enough, Josie understood. What he meant was that it was too late, and he wanted her to head back.

She hesitated, her footsteps faltering. In the end, she erased all the words she had just written down and wrote: Take good care of yourself.

The review process he was

undergoing was not something that

could be completed in just a couple of days, was going to take a

considerable amount of time.

Therefore, it was crucial for him to

take good care of himself during this

period.

As the woman turned to get into the car, her skirt fluttered, just like in a dream. Dexter stood by the window, watching as the vehicle gradually disappeared from view. Right then, the sound of a door opening and closing echoed from behind. "Your ex-wife certainly seems to harbor deep feelings for you."

After that, the window was shut again.

Dexter settled down on the couch, the weight of his burdens returning. He fished out a cigarette from its pack. "Having her is my blessing." The staff member sitting across voiced out, "For her sake, don't you think you should clarify a few things?"