Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 182 - - now you kiss Hardy

Australia.

Airport.

In the VIP passageway, a woman dressed in a long black coat strode briskly, holding a three- or four-year-old girl who looked like a delicate porcelain doll in one arm, and pulling a suitcase with the other.

Even though her large sunglasses concealed the expression in her eyes, the tight line of her lips and the faint furrow in her brows betrayed her agitation and unease.

The little girl in her arms was wearing a matching mother-daughter black coat. She was exceptionally sweet and adorable, but her bright, grape-like eyes were brimming with tears. Her rosy, pouty lips quivered slightly, yet she stubbornly held back her tears.

If not for the unease on the woman's face and the grievance on the child's, the two would have undoubtedly turned heads with their stylish mother-daughter ensemble.

At the exit, a man in a similarly black coat stood with his hands in his pockets, his deep gaze fixed intently on the passageway. His resolute features were etched with worry and an undisguised longing.

The moment he saw the woman emerge with the little girl in her arms, a rare smile softened his otherwise stern face. He spoke gently,

"You're back—"

He instinctively reached out to wrap his arm around the woman's shoulder, but she abruptly shoved the suitcase and the little girl into his arms. Pulling her coat tighter around herself, she lowered her head and headed toward the car without a word.

His outstretched hand hung awkwardly in midair as a hint of sadness flashed across his face.

The little girl, already feeling wronged, burst into loud sobs at the sight of the woman's cold treatment of the man.

"Hardy, Mommy doesn't want Olive anymore—wahhhh!"

"Oh, my little princess Olive, how could Mommy not want you? You're her most precious treasure!"

The man quickly comforted the little girl, though his eyes remained fixed on the woman already seated in the car, a wounded look flickering within.

Little Olive clung to his neck, her small body trembling as she wailed inconsolably, her voice echoing,

"She ignored me the whole way! I talked to her, and she didn't answer. I kissed her, and she didn't react! Wah—Mommy, I want Mommy to hold me!"

But no matter how heart-wrenchingly Olive cried, the woman in the car seemed oblivious. She sat motionless, staring blankly out the window.

The man's thick eyebrows furrowed even more deeply. While wiping away Olive's tears, he carried her toward the car, his tone soothing yet concerned.

"Olive, don't cry. Tell Hardy what happened, okay?"

Seeing that her tears still failed to gain her mother's attention, Olive's cries subsided into soft hiccups, though her small mouth remained pursed in grievance.

"Mommy must've been scared by that uncle... sniff..."

The man's eyes narrowed sharply, and his steps faltered. He stood still just outside the car, holding Olive tightly as his tone turned serious.

"Scared? How so?"

"When Mommy was treating him today, he suddenly opened his eyes and kept shouting, Cynthia, Cynthia! "

The little girl blinked her dark, wide eyes, trying her best to recall the day's events while relaying them to the man.

His expression changed instantly, a storm cloud darkening his face.

"Wasn't he supposed to wake up only after her treatment today? So, he woke up early? And he even saw her and Olive? He must have recognized her, which is why he called out Cynthia , right?"

No wonder. No wonder she suddenly called him, saying she was returning home today and asking him to send someone to pick her up. Originally, she had planned to complete the treatment today and return tomorrow.

On the phone, her voice had been panicked, trembling. When he asked why she was coming back early, she had said nothing, quickly hanging up.

So, she had met that man. After four years, he was still the untouchable scar deep in her heart.

Ha. Holding the little girl who was upset from being ignored by her mother, he felt a chill seep into his chest.

No matter how composed she appeared in daily life, no matter how loving their relationship seemed, no matter how much he adored her, any mention of that man would immediately unsettle her.

He vividly remembered the year Geraint's woman came to Australia to study. That night, after meeting a girl named Rannie in the dance studio, she had returned utterly disoriented.

When he asked what was wrong, she simply said she had met a girl from Japan. Later, he learned that the girl was Geraint's woman—the infamous leader of BlackRock. He also came to understand the source of her melancholy.

Hardy Quinn had thought that after everything they had been through together—surviving life-and-death situations—she would let go of the past and start anew with him.

"Hardy? Hardy?"

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The soft voice of the little girl pulled him out of his thoughts. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her tone tinged with grievance as she complained,

"And then Mommy grabbed me and rushed out! Sob... It's all his fault for scaring Mommy like that! I hate him! He's the reason Mommy is ignoring me!"

As she spoke, she snuggled against his chest, smearing her tears and snot all over his coat. He didn't mind at all. Gently, he kissed her soft, rosy cheek and comforted her in a soothing voice.

"Olive, you know Mommy was just frightened, right? When we get home, we'll comfort her, and she'll be fine. But for now, let's give her some time to calm down, okay?"

"Okay!"

The little girl tilted her head, pondering his words for a while. Eventually, she seemed to find his reasoning agreeable and broke into a smile, flashing him an "OK" gesture with her tiny hand.

Only then did he carry her into the car and settle in. As he sat holding Olive, he glanced at the woman who was still leaning her head against the car window, staring outside absentmindedly.

He signaled to Arven in the driver's seat with a nod to start the car. Holding Olive close, he silently observed her, feeling the tension and unease radiating from her.

He could feel her inner turmoil, mirroring his own anguish—if not surpassing it. The air inside the car grew heavy with silence.

Little Olive, restless after sitting in his arms for a while, began wriggling. She clambered over to her mother's lap. The woman instinctively turned slightly, catching Olive with one arm before drifting back into her daze.

This, however, did not sit well with Olive. On the plane, she had restrained her princess-like temperament to avoid being teased by the lovely flight attendants. But now that she was back in her territory, she decided it was time to unleash her full charm. Pouting with determination, she reached out her small hands, grabbed her mother's face, and forcefully turned it so that they were eye-to-eye.

Then, with an exaggerated pout on her rosy lips, she playfully demanded, "Mommy, Mommy, Olive wants a kiss!" Her mother was momentarily caught off guard by Olive's dramatic gesture.

Despite herself, she let out a soft laugh, her scattered thoughts gradually pulling back into focus. She leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Olive's pouting lips.

The warmth of her daughter's soft, cuddly body in her arms seemed to dissolve much of the tension that had been weighing on her heart.

Satisfied and beaming with happiness, Olive squirmed closer, rubbing her cheek against her mother's chest while giggling coquettishly.

"Mommy, now you kiss Hardy! Olive hasn't seen you two kiss in a long time!"