Chapter 5

The maid looked perplexed as she asked, "Sir, don't you know? Didn't you agree to it yourself?"

Hayden pursed his lips and silently said to himself, 'Mom said she was going to have the maids prepare the room next to mine for Gigi to stay in during lunch. The Kanes and the Hamiltons have been friends for ages, so I didn't really mind. I mean, I wouldn't even care which room she would stay. But I never thought... the room next to mine is Wyneth's room. No wonder she ran to the study wearing just a towel, not caring about her image when she asked me about it. No wonder she repeatedly wanted confirmation from me.'

"Sir?" The maid attempted to console Hayden as she noticed the unpleasant look on his face. "Wyneth won't leave you like this. Plus, she doesn't really have any other place to go. She likes you so much that she will do anything for you. I'm pretty sure she'll be back tomorrow morning, or maybe even in the middle of the night— "

Hayden cut her off. "Who lives on the third floor?"

"Madam lives on the third floor, but that's where most of the guest rooms are located."

"Get a room for Gigi on that floor and have her move there."

The maid was taken aback by Hayden's words.

"You may leave now," Hayden added. He then closed his eyes wearily, clearly not in a good mood. The room fell into silence once again. After a few moments, He suddenly remembered something and called Nathan again.

"Mr. Hamilton?"

"When Wyneth signed the papers, did you remind her that both of us needed to sign the divorce agreement for it to be valid?" Hayden asked Nathan.

"I did inform her of that," Nathan responded. "She requested me to contact her after you sign it, and then she left with her luggage."

Hayden could not shake off the feeling of unease. He realized that he must have hurt Wyneth in some way, without even realizing it. He could almost see her walking away with her suitcase, looking heartbroken and desolate.

Meanwhile, Wyneth got drunk. Even though she only had one drink, it knocked her out.

Then, she drifted off into a dream.

In her dream, Wyneth was transported thirteen years into the past, to her tenth birthday. Although it was supposed to be a joyful day, her parents had a terrible argument. Standing right outside the door, she witnessed her mother throw a marriage certificate at her father and demand a divorce. Little Wyneth was scared and did not know what to do, so she ran away by herself. She kept running until she was too exhausted to go any further and sat down to cry. Alone, wearing her birthday hat, she wept loudly and without restraint in a corner of an empty pedestrian bridge.

As she cried, a teenager walked by and her tears lessened a bit. But as soon as he left, her crying became louder again. Suddenly, he returned and sat quietly on a nearby bench. Since he did not say anything, little Wyneth cried as much as she wanted to. She did not know how long she cried for, but when she felt spent, she leaned against the bridge and gazed at the teenager on the bench.

The streetlight cast the teenager's shadow onto the bridge, and his figure appeared elongated. His profile revealed a high and straight nose, and his bangs covered his forehead, almost blocking half of his eyes.

'He's so handsome, even more than my brothers,' Wyneth thought to herself as she sobbed.

After a long while, the boy finally glanced at her. His eyes were even more beautiful than obsidian, and his tone was languid as he asked resignedly, "Are you done crying?"

Wyneth's sobs became slightly hesitant

The boy checked his watch and grinned. "You've been crying for two hours and twenty-three minutes, and your tears are still flowing?"

Wyneth was just ten years old at the time, her voice muffled by sniffles as she answered, "I still have some left."

The teenager chuckled and said, "But it's getting late; I have to go home."

Little Wyneth did not understand how her tears would affect the boy's decision to stay or leave, whether she stopped crying or not.

The teenager stood up and squatted in front of her, his hand reaching out as if to pat her head. But when he saw her crooked birthday hat, he straightened it for her and fixed her bangs. Then, he pulled out a tissue from his bag.

"Hey, let tears not fall on your special day, even if the heavens come crashing down."

After that, the boy took her to buy the most expensive birthday cake of the day and even got her a children's bracelet as a present.

Little Wyneth could not understand why he would not leave her alone when she was crying on the bridge. It was not until she grew up that she started to realize why; he was scared that she could not bear the weight of her sorrow and might put herself in harm's way by staying there alone.

'Let tears not fall on your special day, even if the heavens come crashing down.'

Those words stuck with Wyneth. From that day, she tried her hardest to stay positive, even on tough days like her parents' divorce anniversary.

But eventually, reality set in. The boy she once knew was just a memory now, and the person was not the same. He had changed, and who he used to be could never become who he was now.

When Wyneth woke up, her head was pounding, and she saw her brother Bruce sitting beside her bed. In a daze, she called out, "Brother?"

"You're awake," Bruce got up and helped her sit up. Then, he brought her a cup of ginger lemon tea. "Drink this. You'll feel better," he said.

Wyneth gazed at the cup of ginger lemon tea, her hair in disarray. She lazily leaned against the edge of the bed without moving. Her lips were a deep shade of crimson. Her eyes were still groggy from waking up, but beautiful nonetheless.

When Bruce reached out to tidy up her hair, he could not help but think, 'My sister is so pretty. I don't know if Hayden is blind or just has no taste.'

"You're not filming today?" Wyneth asked.

"Leaving in five minutes," Bruce replied.

"You're so busy," Wyneth chuckled, leaning lazily against the bed.

Hearing this, Bruce paused and looked resigned. "That's how the showbiz is," he said.

As he spoke, his phone rang.

Since he was holding the tray with the cup of ginger lemon tea, Wyneth took his phone and answered it for him.

"Bruce, your car has arrived," said a voice on the other end.

Bruce replied coldly, "Got it."

After the call, Bruce turned to Wyneth and said, "Hang up the phone, Wyn."

Raising an eyebrow, Wyneth asked, "You've done talking? Okay."

Gordon Kim, Bruce's agent, was momentarily stunned when he heard the lazy female voice coming from the phone. It was the first time he had heard a woman's voice from Bruce's end.

He thought, 'Is Bruce dating someone behind my back?'

The call ended, and Wyneth handed the phone back to Bruce. "You should go now," she said.

Bruce reached out and tousled Wyneth's hair, his voice softening a few degrees. "Call me if you need anything. I'll go get them. Don't forget to drink your ginger lemon tea."

After Bruce left, Wyneth did not even look at the ginger lemon tea. She thought, 'I only had a small glass of wine, why do I need ginger lemon tea to cure a hangover?'

Suddenly, the room door was pushed open with a bang, and her brothers rushed in one after another.

"Wyn, you're up! How are you feeling? Still nauseous?" asked one.

"Are you dizzy? Do you need to puke? Should we take you to the hospital?" asked another.

"Are you hungry? Want me to whip up something for you?" offered a third.

The five handsome men crowded around her bedside, each speaking in turn. Even though there were only five of them, it sounded as if there were fifty of them.

Wyneth's head throbbed from all the noise. She closed her eyes and shouted, "Shut up!"

Instantly, the five men fell silent, as if someone had hit the mute button.