Chapter 573 I Really Want to Meet, Even If It's Just a Glance
Since she was leaving, she had to make a clean break, with no lingering attachments.
Lyric's mind flashed with memories of her past with Daniel—some good, some bad, but mostly filled with heartache and resentment.
"Daniel, are you free tonight? I'd like to take you out for dinner."
"You're not my type. I suggest you focus on your work instead of looking for shortcuts."
"Della, I like you. I really, really like you."
"Promise me, no matter how I treat you, you won't give up halfway, unless I don't want you anymore."
"You need to learn how to cook and take care of your man."
"Being somewhat like Margaret is a blessing for you, don't overdo it."
She suddenly remembered a line she had once seen in his notebook, filled with thoughts of Margaret: [Margaret, no matter how much she resembles you or no matter how much she dresses according to your preferences, she is not you.]
The oppression seeped through her bones, piling up bit by bit.
Lyric gave a bitter smile and lightly tapped on Daniel's profile picture. His profile picture was a sunset landscape. Was it because his beloved had married someone else that his heart had locked itself away, lifeless?
She clicked on the delete option.
"Miss, the plane is about to take off. Please turn off your phone. Thank you for your cooperation," the flight attendant said as she made her rounds and returned.
Lyric looked up and apologized, then deleted Daniel's WhatsApp and added him to the blacklist.
All his contact information, phone numbers, were erased without exception.
She turned off her phone in front of the flight attendant.
The plane took off, suddenly soaring into the sky.
Lyric looked out at the layers of clouds, bright white and floating in the deep blue sky, spectacular.
She silently said in her heart, 'Daniel, goodbye forever. This absurd and tragic relationship is finally over.'
Her first love ended just like that, without a trace.
From now on, she wouldn't easily dive into a relationship based solely on appearances or a photo. In affairs of love, there was no logic.
Nor was it a matter of how much she gave, expecting equal returns.
Daniel finished his work and sat in his leather chair, tugging at his black tie. His long, defined fingers picked up his phone from the desk.
He opened Della's chat window.
He had sent her a bunch of messages, none of which she had replied to.
It had been many days since they last met.
He didn't know why, but guilt had been keeping him awake at night. Even when he did sleep, he dreamt of Della and their past.
Today, for some reason, he felt inexplicably agitated, as if something was about to happen.
He had told her to take her time considering marriage. He had been confident before, but he hadn't received any response. His confidence and patience were slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Daniel couldn't sit still.
He needed to see her!
He wanted to have dinner with her, do the most intimate things, just like before. His heart felt empty, restless, uneasy.
He had grown accustomed to having Della by his side.
[What do you want to eat tonight? I'll take you out.]
He typed the message, hesitated to send it, worried she might be upset. But then he thought, if he wanted to see someone, he should do it openly, right?
The worst outcome would be silence or cold words.
It didn't matter, as long as he could see her and know she was okay, his goal would be achieved.
After some internal struggle, his fingers trembled slightly as he hit send.
The message didn't go through.
A red exclamation mark appeared on the screen, along with a notification: [The recipient has blocked your messages.]
Blocked? She blocked him?
What happened?
Why did she suddenly block him? The last message he sent was this morning around six, saying he had grown accustomed to her presence.
He thought she would be happy to read that, given how much she liked him.
Grabbing his coat, Daniel made a hurried exit from The Taylor Group's CEO office.
His long legs, wrapped in black pants, strode quickly.
The employees in the secretary's office greeted him, but he didn't have time to respond.
Everyone was puzzled, whispering among themselves, because in their eyes, Daniel was a gentleman, easy to get along with. He didn't put on airs; whether it was the higher-ups or the cleaning staff, he would always greet them with a clean, bright smile, even if he was tired.
"Hello, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later."
Stepping out of The Taylor Group, a wave of heat hit him.
The phone was blocked too.
Why? Was it because of his message this morning, saying he was used to her company, that disgusted her?
Daniel drove, rushing to the hospital.
He kept dialing.
"Hello, the number you dialed is currently on another call. Please try again later."
The automated message repeated over and over.
Daniel had always been a stickler for traffic rules, but today, in his urgency, he ignored the red light on the overpass and floored the gas pedal.
The car shot forward like an arrow.
No wonder he felt something was wrong today—Della was in trouble.
He couldn't afford to waste a single second.
Normally, it would take half an hour to drive from The Taylor Group to Della's hospital.
Daniel frantically cut down the travel time, the speedometer on the dashboard hitting its peak.
A large truck suddenly swerved into his path.
The two vehicles were about to collide.
Daniel frantically turned the steering wheel.
But the truck still rear-ended him.
With a loud crash, the SUV hit the bridge railing, which broke. The SUV rolled several times on the road before landing heavily.
Daniel's vision blurred, the airbags deployed.
The car rolled, trapping him inside.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't reach his phone, his forehead was covered in blood, streaming down his handsome face.
The pain made him gasp.
Frowning, he used all his strength to unbuckle the seatbelt, the window shattered.
He couldn't wait to see Della, afraid she was in trouble, he couldn't stay put for even a second.
Punching the window, he shattered the glass, shards piercing his hand, sticky red liquid dripping down his bones. Ignoring the pain, he hunched his body and crawled out through the window.
The sharp glass shards tore through his dark shirt, piercing his flesh. The pain made him furrow his thick brows.
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