Chapter 757 Diana vs Dwayne: Eyes Reddened by Emotion 3
That night, Diana fled in a hurry.
She stayed home for several days, while her father Oliver spent the time fussing over a few turtles—his latest hobby. Sarah teased him, saying he must be getting old if he had taken to such things.
That very evening, Oliver released the turtles into the wild, determined to prove—perhaps a little defiantly—that he was not old. On the shell of one, he even scrawled Dwayne's name in petty revenge.
"Childish," Sarah muttered with open disdain.
Diana knew none of this. All she noticed was Oliver's repeated concern over why she wasn't going out, warning her she'd get stuffy staying indoors all the time.
A week later, the holiday ended and Diana returned to campus.
She was now a university lecturer, teaching art students to paint. Sometimes she wondered if she had inherited Dwayne's mantle. She wasn't sure, but she was happy with her work.
It was late afternoon, the sky washed in sunset gold.
Diana picked up her car keys, planning to buy some snacks before heading home to binge her favorite series. Her life was simple, and she had no wish to change it. As for the accident that night—she had decided to treat it as nothing more than an accident. Dwayne had never mentioned it.
Twilight lit the horizon with a clear, glowing light. In that glow, her face looked fresh and delicate. She was in a good mood as she opened the car door—
"Diana."
The voice was familiar.
She turned slowly and saw Dwayne standing with several school administrators, apparently discussing a donation. She knew the library was in disrepair and the school needed funds for a new building.
The sudden encounter left her momentarily at a loss.
Dwayne's gaze lingered on her.
This was the school they had both attended when they were together. The administrators knew their history—how Oliver had broken them apart.
But things had changed: Dwayne was no longer an ordinary teacher. Now worth billions, he was here to pledge fifty million dollars to the school.
The administrators looked at them — the picture of wealth and beauty.
They joked, giving Dwayne a friendly pat on the shoulder: "Why not invite Diana along? Wasn't she your former student? She's doing well now, teaching instead of going into business like you."
Dwayne said nothing.
After a moment, he walked over, gently closing her car door. "Come have dinner with me. I'll buy you the snacks later."
Diana froze.
And then she found herself in his black Range Rover.
She sat stiffly, her back pressed against the passenger seat, nerves wound tight. Dwayne drove, chatting about his meeting with the administrators, asking about her work, occasionally mentioning his own.
He never spoke of the past.
She couldn't read him—he seemed close, yet carefully kept his distance.
But he was gentle, just as he had been when they first met.
When the car stopped outside the restaurant, Diana spoke softly before getting out. "Dwayne?"
He turned to her, still gentle. "Let's eat first. I'll take you home afterward."
She didn't move, just looked at him steadily, like a small dog waiting for an answer. Her breath quickened, stubbornly demanding an explanation.
He studied her for a long moment, then reached out to gently pat her head. "Be good."
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