Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 186: So... Is It Over?

Stella stared blankly at the woman playing the piano. She was beautiful, exuding an indescribable sense of familiarity.

Selene Sloan had already stood up and walked over quickly. Her eyes reddened slightly as she gazed at Stella.

She didn’t know why, but a voice in her heart was calling out, "Sierra."

But Sierra had clearly already been found and was right beside her.

However, the woman in front of her looked so very similar.

Stella slightly curled her lips, "Ma’am, you play very well."

Selene smiled, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes, "Thank you, what is your name?"

Stella nodded, "My name is Stella Grant."

"Are you from Meritopia, is your family there?" she couldn’t help but ask.

Stella laughed and replied casually, "Yes, my parents are from Meritopia."

Selene’s heart sank instantly.

It seemed she really wasn’t the one.

She forced a smile, "Do you like the guqin?"

"I don’t understand it much," Stella answered honestly, "But you play so well, listening to it feels like stepping into a painting, it’s quite touching."

Before she finished speaking, Selene suddenly took her hand.

The hand was warm, with a slight tremor.

"Come, come here, I’ll play another song for you."

Stella felt both flattered and startled as she was led to the nearest seat.

Selene returned to the piano, her fingertips once again caressed the strings, and a new melody flowed out, this time played especially for her.

Stella listened, stunned.

Suddenly, fragmented images flashed through her mind.

A long time ago, a woman dressed in an elegant cheongsam held little her, sitting by the piano.

The woman played the guqin gracefully with one hand, while her small hands beat forcefully on the strings.

"Splat, splat."

All that came out was noise.

Yet that woman laughed, bowed her head, and kissed her face again and again.

The song ended.

Stella’s eyes reddened, she didn’t understand why she was so out of sorts.

Around them, thunderous applause and endless praises called her Mrs. Whitman.

Selene came over and warmly invited her to lunch.

Stella snapped back, glanced at a distance, "My friend is still waiting for me over there."

She bid farewell to Selene softly.

Watching her back, Selene couldn’t hide the disappointment in her eyes and walked with a group of wives in another direction.

Aiden Fordham came over, naturally and gently holding her by the waist.

His warmth passed through the thin fabric of her clothes.

Leaning against him, Stella spoke softly, "That Mrs. Whitman, seeing her gave me such a familiar feeling, I don’t know why."

Aiden knew, actually, that was... a mother and daughter’s connection.

Today was specially arranged by him, bringing her here, just to let them meet in advance.

Unexpectedly, her reaction was so intense.

His deep voice sounded beside her ear, soothingly.

"Alright, let’s eat first, if you like listening, I’ll bring you here next time, and you’ll see her again."

He embraced her and led her to the reserved private room.

After lunch, Aiden took her to rest in the CEO’s office.

He held her, letting her sit on his lap, and they leaned together on the sofa, sleeping for a while.

When they woke up, he lowered his head and kissed her, leaving her dizzy and her breathing chaotic.

The man’s presence was overwhelming, the office temperature rose sharply, and it felt like things were about to escalate.

Stella shuddered, suddenly pushed him away, and quickly ran.

After work, Aiden waited for Stella in the company’s underground parking lot.

Waited left, waited right, without seeing her, only spotting a familiar black car speeding out of the exit.

It was a Sterling Family car.

Aiden’s face darkened, once more thwarted?

His phone vibrated with a message from his dear wife, "I went home for dinner, don’t wait for me."

Aiden looked and smiled helplessly, but the assertiveness in the message made him damn well pleased.

Meanwhile, at the Sterling dining table, the atmosphere was somewhat heavy.

Charles Sterling cleared his throat, sweeping a serious gaze across the daughters.

"I now announce a few house rules."

"First, before marriage, no staying out overnight."

"Second, if you have a boyfriend, you must bring him home for your mom and me to meet. If we approve, you may continue the relationship."

"Third, if anyone disobeys, no more allowance."

Claire Norton was the first to respond, nodding energetically like a chick pecking grain.

Stella and Vivi Sterling also nodded agreeably.

Vivi pouted, "Dad, these rules feel like they’re tailor-made for Claire?"

Mr. Sterling displayed a look of disdain, "Well, who else would take an interest in you?"

Vivi’s smile froze.

Ouch, don’t pull any punches, old sport.

Stella couldn’t help but laugh, but Mr. Sterling’s sharp gaze landed on her, "Don’t laugh, that includes you, no staying out overnight, you all make people worry."

Stella quickly nodded, "Yes, I heard."

She definitely dared not stay out tonight.

Seeing his daughters being obedient, Mr. Sterling nodded, "Be good, I’ll peel shrimp for you every day."

Saying so, a bowl piled high with shrimp meat was placed in front of them.

Vivi and Stella simultaneously covered their noses, now quite fearful of seafood.

Only Claire was excited, grabbing the big bowl with both hands, "I eat! I eat!"

From now on, she could enjoy a large bowl of shrimp by herself.

Simply awesome!

After the meal, Claire slipped away into her room.

She tightly held her phone, which was playing a video on the screen.

She quietly and diligently mimicked the pronunciation from the video, practicing repeatedly.

"Huo..."

"Huo..."

"Huo..."

After dinner, Vivi snuck over to the boxing gym alone.

Today is Wednesday, a day when number 17 typically has a match. She is seated in the exclusive number one box.

Below, the boxers are fervently engaged, each punch landing with a dull thud, the audience’s roars vibrating the floor.

Yet she just stares, those eyes which were always bright, now seeming so empty.

The passion is gone.

The Vivi Sterling who used to stand up, cling to the railing, and shout without caring about her image, has long since died.

Not far away, a pair of piercing eyes cut through the dimness and the crowd, locking tightly onto her.

Not until all the matches are over.

The lights dim, the frenzied crowd slowly disperses, leaving only the scattered sounds of staff cleaning up in the venue.

She gestured to a waiter tidying up nearby.

Vivi Sterling handed him a delicate golden box, "Please, help me give this to number 17."

The waiter looked troubled, "Miss Sterling, number 17 left a while ago, but... his belongings are still here."

She said nothing, took out a thick wad of cash from her bag, and handed it to the waiter.

The waiter quickly nodded, bowed, and promptly left with the small box.

Vivi Sterling lingered for a while, then walked towards the backstage.

At this time, almost everyone had left the backstage, leaving just a few dim working lights.

Step by step, she followed the path imprinted in her memory to that familiar locker.

On the locker door, the number "17" was cold and glaring.

Her fingertips gently traced those numbers, and her eyes quickly turned red.

This is where she spoke to him for the first time.

She asked, would five million be enough to make him her bodyguard? To accompany her to Mardale?

He didn’t agree at that time.

But in the end, he went, saving her life time and again.

If... if back then, she hadn’t invited him, would he now be alive, standing here vibrant and full of life?

Would he still be alive?

Her head leaned weakly against the cold locker door.

She began to mutter softly.

"Zane Zimmerman, you bastard, how could you just die like that..."

"Weren’t you supposed to be so strong? So formidable? How could you not defeat them..."

"If you couldn’t beat them, you could have run away... why didn’t you run?"

Her tears fell like pearls with a broken string, cascading uncontrollably.

From suppressed sobs to finally bursting into uncontrollable wailing.

"What do I do... I miss you so much... what do I do..."

"Bastard... sob sob sob..."

From the shadows in the distance, the owner of those eyes watched everything, his heart clenched as if by a large hand, hurting so much that it was difficult to breathe.

He wished he could rush over right now.

He longed to hold her tightly, to tell her he has always been there.

To tell her everything was beyond his control.

But he couldn’t.

The only thing he could do now was to let her forget "Zane Zimmerman" as soon as possible and then... fall in love with "Hugh Whitman" again.

Finally, the sobbing gradually subsided. She staggered away.

Hugh Whitman stepped out of the shadows, his tall silhouette casting a long shadow under the dim lights.

He walked to locker #17 and opened it skillfully.

The golden box delivered by the waiter lay quietly inside.

He picked up the box and opened it.

Inside was a blue kitten towel with one corner burned off.

Beside the towel, there was a heart shape made of tissue paper, she had given him many times before.

On it, there was a bright red lipstick mark.

Above the lip mark was a line: [I miss you].

Part of the word "miss" was blurred by a small patch of moisture.

It was a tear that she couldn’t hold back when she stamped the lip mark.

His hands abruptly clenched the box, knuckles turning white.

The pain in his heart was fierce. His eyes, too, reddening.

The night was deep.

Aiden Fordham’s car silently parked outside Sterling Manor.

He tapped his fingers on the screen, sending a message.

[Come down, I’ll take you back home.]

The light of the phone screen lit up, and Stella’s heart skipped a beat.

She hastily replied.

[No way, no one can go out today.]

Aiden Fordham gazed at her words, paused, his thumbs caressing the steering wheel, his eyes deeply contemplative.

So, he had barely had a chance to hold his wife for just one day.

He typed again.

[Do you want to see me?]

Stella looked at the screen, and her lips couldn’t help but curve a little.

[Will you perform a magic trick? Fly in here.]

About five minutes later.

From the direction of the balcony, came the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground.

Stella’s nerves instantly tensed.

Soon after, the balcony’s glass door was pushed open, and a tall man walked in against the moonlight.

The night breeze carried his scent, instantly filling the whole room.

Stella widened her eyes in surprise, instinctively covering her mouth.

He...

"How did you get in?" she asked in a hushed voice, her tone a bit shaky.

Aiden Fordham didn’t explain, stepped forward, and directly scooped her into his arms.

His chest was firm and burning, even through the thin pajamas, it made her heart tremble.

He lowered his head and captured her lips with unerring precision.

This kiss carried an irresistible force, lingering and persistent, until her breath became erratic.

Aiden Fordham lowered his body, leaning close to her ear, his warm breath brushing against her ear.

"So, has it ended?"

She paused, her cheek growing hotter...

Perhaps... she should tell him about the child?