Laurelle hung her head low and bit on her lip as she peered at Zachariah secretly. 

She'd clung onto him and refused to let him leave, and they'd then slept on the same bed for the night? That was probably all that had happened, right? 

But why had this man shown up in her hospital ward? 

Could it be…

Laurelle raised her eyes. "Are you Number 258?" 

Zachariah raised a brow and sat down on a chair. He crossed his legs and looked intently at her. 

"Yes, that's me." His voice was frosty, yet carried a hoarseness that was unique to a morning voice. 

"Ms. Fletcher, you’re not seriously trying to call it even for saving my life by taking advantage of me last night, are you?"

As they looked into one another's eyes, Laurelle spaced out a little. 

When she'd saved him ten years ago, he'd been lying behind a pile of hay, covered in mud. The injury on his chest had been horrifying to look 

Laurelle watched as Zachariah left. Her emotions gradually settled down. 

Once again, she couldn't help but be reminded of Maverick. How did he have a change of heart? 

She could remember those two years when she'd first returned to the Fletcher family. Because the smell of gas nauseated her, she'd often walked home from school while Bianca had taken the car.

When she'd looked back occasionally, she'd seen Maverick following behind her. He'd be in his uniform, with his hands in his pockets and a frigid look on his face.

She'd stopped in her tracks for two minutes on purpose. 

Even back then, he'd been tall and had long legs. She'd known that he'd catch up with her soon enough.

He'd been much taller than her. Even though the look on his face had been cold, his eyes had contained a fondness toward her when he gazed down at her. 

At that time, Maverick probably had cared for her, had

Maverick had come with the goal of getting Zachariah to sign the contract. In the end, not only had he failed to get him to sign it, but he'd even humiliated himself. 

By the end of it all, Maverick couldn't bear to stay any longer. He left looking dejected. 

Holding a glass in his hand, Jeremy could tell that something was going on. He probed, "Zach, something's not right with you tonight." 

Zachariah smiled. "What do you mean?" 

Jeremy did not expose him. "You know what I mean." 

Having settled the matter, Zachariah had no intention of staying there any longer. "I'm leaving now." 

In a curious tone, Jeremy asked, "What kind of woman is capable of drawing you in like that? You're leaving so early." 

"You don't understand." Zachariah pinched the cigarette from between his lips and put it out. "I'm willing to give her my life." 

Jeremy clicked his tongue and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I didn't expect you to be such a sentimental person." 

With a cheeky smirk on his face, he leaned toward Zach and whispered, "It's her, isn't it? The one who saved you ten years ago. Laurelle." 

Zachariah didn't say a word. Instead, his dark eyes briefly landed on Jeremy's face. 

Jeremy understood it now. Deep down, he complimented himself for his sharp wits. 

He couldn't help but tease Zachariah, saying, "What use is there for you to just have a crush on her? During the time you worked for Border Patrol, she followed your nephew around for seven years. 

"If Maverick weren't blind to her feelings, they might've already been married by now." 

Jeremy tried to be helpful by coming up with a suggestion. "She and Maverick had an argument, and she's still mad at him. If I were you, I would seize the opportunity to coax her into marrying you before she comes around. By then, it will be too late for her to regret it." 

Zachariah, however, didn't seem to have heard him. He strode right out the door. 

After taking a few steps, Zachariah remembered something and turned back. "Where's Alexis?" 

"She's at home. Why do you ask?" 

"When you get home, ask her to go and keep Laurelle company at the hospital tomorrow. I'll send the hospital's address to you later." 

Upon saying that, Zachariah walked away without turning back. It was too late by the time Jeremy realized that he'd become a tool. 

"Alexis and I had a fight. Why would I go home? Why did you think I organized this gathering on such a rainy night?" 

It was only because he couldn't return home that he needed his friends to pass time with him. 

Jeremy took a gulp of alcohol. Thinking of Alexis gave him a headache. 

…

While it had been pouring the previous night, the rain stopped right as the day broke. 

Laurelle hadn't slept very soundly that night. She felt like she'd had a dream, but she couldn't quite recall what it was. 

"Are you awake?" 

While she was still in a daze, she heard a man's voice coming from behind her out of the blue. 

She paused. A man? 

She turned behind immediately and glanced toward the source of the voice. Her entire body went numb. 

On her bed, next to her, was a man she didn't know. He was leaning slightly against the headboard as he stared at her with tranquil and beautiful eyes. 

The white shirt he was wearing was a little crumpled. Three of his buttons were undone, revealing his chest muscles slightly. 

Laurelle frowned. What was going on? 

Zachariah lowered his eyes slightly and curled his lips upward. "Why are you so surprised, Ms. Fletcher? You haven't forgotten how I ended up on this bed last night, have you?" 

Subconsciously, Laurelle tightened her grasp around her blanket as she glanced at Zachariah with an alarmed look in her eyes. 

She didn't even know him at all. How had he ended up on her bed? 

In a serious manner, Zachariah straightened his shirt while he explained, "You held onto me last night while you slept, refusing to let me leave. You were the one who took advantage of me, so I should be the one getting mad." 

Laurelle froze. 

She was the one who'd held onto him and hadn't allowed him to leave last night? 

She closed her eyes and tried to recall. After the doctor had come and checked on her last night, she'd laid down in bed and drifted off. 

While she'd been in a daze, it had seemed like she'd had a dream. She couldn't actually remember what she'd dreamed about in specific, though. 

She could only vaguely remember being in a warm embrace the entire night. 

She lifted her head and looked at the man in front of her once again. Doubtfully, she asked, "Are you sure I was the one who held onto you?" 

Zachariah didn't respond. He lifted his hands and started straightening his shirt. When he got to the third button, he suddenly paused. He lifted his eyes and gazed toward Laurelle's right hand. 

Following his line of sight, she glanced at her hand. Right after that, she noticed that she was clenching tightly onto a button in her palm. 

Had she ripped that button off his shirt? 

She was speechless. How she wished someone could save her from this embarrassment. 

Yet, she truly couldn't recall a single thing. 

Laurelle hung her head low and bit on her lip as she peered at Zachariah secretly. 

She'd clung onto him and refused to let him leave, and they'd then slept on the same bed for the night? That was probably all that had happened, right? 

But why had this man shown up in her hospital ward? 

Could it be…

Laurelle raised her eyes. "Are you Number 258?" 

Zachariah raised a brow and sat down on a chair. He crossed his legs and looked intently at her. 

"Yes, that's me." His voice was frosty, yet carried a hoarseness that was unique to a morning voice. 

"Ms. Fletcher, you’re not seriously trying to call it even for saving my life by taking advantage of me last night, are you?"

As they looked into one another's eyes, Laurelle spaced out a little. 

When she'd saved him ten years ago, he'd been lying behind a pile of hay, covered in mud. The injury on his chest had been horrifying to look at. 

Meeting him again ten years later, she'd never expected him to have become such a handsome man

Chapter 15