Part 2The Forgotten Love

When I woke up again, the sky was dim.

It was already evening.

The villa was very quiet.

Ethan should have left.

My stomach was very hungry.

I opened the door, wearing a white princess nightgown, barefoot downstairs to find food.

The floor was cold, and I felt my brain sober up a little.

I was standing by the kitchen island heating toast.

The study door suddenly opened.

Ethan in a sharp suit walked out of the study.

Under the warm yellow light, his contours were more three-dimensional, his figure straight.

Features like sculptures.

Like a god with the power of life and death descending.

But he was too cold.

His temperament was cold, his eyes were cold.

Even the lead-gray cufflinks of his suit gleamed coldly.

Separated by the long living room, his gaze fell lightly on me.

Thin lips pressed into a straight line.

Full of pressure.

Almost instantly.

I snapped back to reality.

Holding my head, squatting under the dining table.

Hiding clumsily.

Sister flew downstairs with brisk steps.

She ran into Ethan's arms, hugging his arm and shaking it.

"Leaving already? You haven't seen my new stills yet. How about leaving after eating?"

Sister's temperament has always been distant and cold.

At this moment, she showed the coquettishness of a little daughter, pinching her voice, very pleasant to hear.

Like a beautiful bird.

Feathers bright, singing melodiously.

Ethan didn't speak; he looked coldly at me shivering under the table.

Sister's smile fell.

Biting her lip, she said:

"If you're busy, another day is fine. Let's go, I'll walk you out."

Ethan stood still.

The pressure on him was so strong, as if he wasn't listening to Sister at all.

Sister opened her mouth but didn't dare to speak.

After a long time, he spoke, voice deep:

"Okay, leave after eating."

On Dad and Sister's faces, surprised and suspicious expressions flashed at the same time.

Ethan hooked his lips slightly:

"What are you afraid of? Didn't she forget everything?"

Ethan walked to the dining table with long legs and squatted down.

Suit pants outlined strong leg lines.

"Mia, do you still know me?"

I timidly raised my eyes, then lowered them, daring not to meet his gaze.

Slowly nodded.

But my fingertips and toes seemed to suddenly transmit needle-pricking pain.

Like a stress reaction.

I screamed.

Closed my eyes tightly.

Desperately shook my head.

"Don't know! Don't hit me! I don't know!"