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Chapter 1398: Picking Up Monica
On a bright and sunny summer day, the gentle sunlight and tantalizing breeze created a charming and beautiful atmosphere. A
pristine white bedsheet and quilt covered a bed in a room filled with a pleasant fragrance. She, wearing a spaghetti strap
nightgown, snuggled into the bed, feeling extremely comfortable. Like a lazy cat, she closed her eyes and slept sweetly.
Strangely, she suddenly felt someone standing by her bed. Groggily, she slowly opened her eyes and saw Tristan, his tall and
slender figure becoming clearer and clearer. Monica's eyes widened, and she becfully awake. She sat up, her hair disheveled,
staring at him in astonishment.
She stared at him unblinkingly, as if she were hallucinating. Tristan stood by the bed with a smile on his face, looking gentle and
warm. Wearing a white shirt, his hands in his pockets, he seemed to glow in the soft, brilliant light.
So handsome, so incredibly handsome...
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Monica sat on the bed, staring at him in shock, her breath catching in her throat. His handsface slowly leaned closer to her,
and his cool, thin lips pressed against hers...
It was a sensation like being electrified, beautiful and exhilarating, making her feel like her brain was deprived of oxygen for a
moment. Just as she was immersed in the kiss... just as her little hand instinctively wanted to grasp Tristan's shirt around his waist,
the alarm on her phone rang inappropriately.
First, the alarm in her dream rang, and then the alarm in reality. The long-awaited morning arrived, and Monica opened her eyes
with a headache. Her dream interrupted, the winter room was empty and bare. Her heart raced, and her cheeks flushed.
The dream was so vivid in her mind...
She turned off the annoying alarm, recalling every detail. So clear. Oh my God, why would she have such a dream? She had
actually kissed him and enjoyed it so much!
When the alarm rang for the second time, she quickly pulled herself back to reality, got out of bed, put on her slippers, and rushed
into the bathroom. Tristan would pick her up in the morning, so she had to get ready quickly and look beautiful when she saw him!
Monica moved swiftly, practically running as she walked. She had becproficient in applying makeup, seizing every minute and
second. Normally, her makeup was simple, but today she applied a bit of blush to make her complexion look better.
Tristan's car was parked outside the small Western-style house. Belinda stood in front of her bedroom window, gripping the curtain
and observing the outside scene in her nightgown. The car had been parked there for at least half an hour.
Only when her legs began to feel numb and she decided not to keep watch did she see her daughter appear, carrying a suitcase.
Tristan got out of the car, the trunk opened, and he quickly walked into the yard to help her with the luggage.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
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Monica opened the passenger door herself, sat in the car, and fastened her seat belt. Tristan started the car soon after, and under
Belinda's watchful gaze, the car drove out of sight.
Her daughter was growing up, starting to date. She seemed to see her younger self, who had been fearless for love but ended up
losing everything. Her eyes dimmed, and she couldn't help but feel a little melancholic.
In the car, Tristan turned up the heating. "Are you cold?" He asked with concern.
"I'm fine."
Tristan handed her a pink bag. "This is for you."
"What is it?" She took it from him, opened it, and saw, "Heating pads?" She looked at him in surprise.
Tristan's face was gentle, and he focused on the road without looking at her. She felt warmth in her heart, and his heart was filled
with sweetness. The entire car seemed to be enveloped in a warm and sweet aroma.
"Thank you," she said, withdrawing her gaze and carefully cradling the bag in her arms.