Chapter 25
I gave an awkward laugh. “I see. When my brother gets here, I’ll tell him how nice you’ve been to me. I’ll have him treat you to a big meal.”
But I hesitated, realizing that a simple dinner invitation might not be that impressive for someone like Tristan.
“No, actually, I’ll have him give you a solid project to work on. Something good, and he won’t compete with you for it.” I quickly revised my offer.
Tristan’s gaze darkened. “That’s how you want to thank me?”
I was stunned.
Tristan smiled and lightly ruffled my hair, like he was comforting a child. “There’s no need to be so polite. Even if it wasn’t your brother, I would have helped as soon as I knew.
“Why?” I asked, still confused.
Tristan winked. “Don’t you remember? I’m your Tree.”
I was completely baffled.
He didn’t seem interested in explaining any further. After exchanging a few more casual remarks, he left the room.
As I lay in bed, staring at the IV drip, my thoughts raced. After contemplating for what felt like
ages,
I realized I still hadn’t figured anything out.
My mind was utterly blank. I couldn’t recall any memories of Jameson, and my childhood recollections of Tristan were hazy at best. All I could remember were a few fragments, like calling him “Tree“.
Beyond that, my memories of him were almost nonexistent.
Why did Tristan act as if we’d been close when we were younger? I couldn’t help but feel puzzled.
Maybe I was overthinking it. Perhaps he was just being extra kind because he was friends with my brother.
I sighed deeply, staring at the IV drip. The bottle was enormous, and it looked like I’d be stuck
in bed for a while.
I woke up to find it was already past 8:00 pm. A nurse gently shook me awake, disconnected the IV drip, and encouraged me to get up and walk around for a bit.
I quickly made my way to the bathroom. When I washed my face, I noticed that my complexion looked unusually pale and puffy.
It was a surprising change. The puffiness added a bit of fat to my typically too–thin face.
When I pinched my cheeks, a familiar sensation washed over me. I looked in the mirror and felt a surge of satisfaction.
I was still beautiful! The radiant Ms. Wynonna Lambert hadn’t transformed into a worn–out old woman.
In that moment, I silently vowed to myself that once I recovered, I would prioritize eating healthily and exercising regularly.
I was determined to quickly reclaim the vitality of my 18–year–old self and make up for the seven years I had lost.
As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, I nearly bumped into a wall. Just as I was about to stumble, a firm hand caught my arm. I looked up to find Tristan standing there again, dressed casually and looking refreshed.
“Tristan, what brings you here again?” I asked, feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over me. I quickly realized I had misspoken. Waving my hands frantically, I corrected myself. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, aren’t you busy, Tristan?”
Tristan adjusted his glasses and smiled. “When did I ever say I was busy?”
“But aren’t you supposed to be busy?” I asked, feeling a bit awkward.
Tristan’s smile widened. “Do I really give off that impression? Even busy people find time for themselves.”
“Well…” I hesitated. “Someone like you should be out socializing or handling company
matters.”
I explained, “When I was younger, my dad was always swamped with work. And when he handed the company over to Charles, he was so caught up in work that he felt like he was spinning his wheels.”
I couldn’t help but say more when the conversation shifted to my family.
1
“Before Charles took over our dad’s company, he used to spend a lot of time playing with me. But now, I hardly ever see him.”
Tristan’s eyes flickered with interest. “You miss your brother, Wyn?”
