Chapter 871 Why Only Call Me? The More, the Merrier
Timothy had a rugged charm about him. Even in a perfectly tailored suit, he couldn't hide that roguish edge, which only made him more irresistibly handsome.
His eyes, with their mischievous glint, seemed to hold a thousand unspoken promises. When he looked at someone, it felt like he could see right into their soul.
"If you don't want to win, then you'll have to lose," Timothy said. "Monica, it's your call."
Her legs gave out, and she started to collapse.
Timothy reached out and caught her.
"What... what do you want?" Monica stammered.
"I want you."
Monica was already in a daze, and his words hit her like a bolt of lightning.
Was Timothy confessing his feelings?
Was he?
"All these years, Monica, haven't you noticed how I feel about you? Haven't you felt it at all?" Timothy asked. "Or did you notice and just choose to ignore it?"
"That time you lost to me, we spent a month together like a couple. Weren't you happy? Wouldn't it be great to live like that forever?"
"Monica, stop running away. Stop avoiding me. We need to settle this."
Monica looked at him, feeling both familiar and strange.
If she took a step forward, she could fall into his arms.
If she stepped back, she would be rejecting him.
What should she do?
Seeing Monica's hesitation, Timothy's eyes darkened.
"Alright," he said, "I'll give you some time to think it over. Answer me when you're ready."
Timothy stepped back and let go of her. "Can you still drive?"
"I... I can."
"Drive safely."
Monica got into her car on autopilot and drove away.
Watching her car disappear, Timothy shook his head with a sigh, but he couldn't help finding it amusing.
Silly Monica.
He had asked if she remembered their bet, and she said she did.
But the bet wasn't exactly as he had just described!
Timothy would never forget that bet. Monica had proposed it, and he could still remember her triumphant, animated expression—
"Timothy, if I fall in love with you within this month, I lose. If I don't, I win!"
Her clear voice seemed to echo in his ears.
It seemed she only vaguely remembered the part about falling in love, completely forgetting the order!
It wasn't about whether Timothy would fall in love with her, but whether she would fall in love with Timothy!
How could Monica control whether Timothy fell for her? That was his business.
The only thing she could control was herself.
To win, she had to bet on whether she would fall for him, not whether he loved her!
But in her panic, with the passage of time, and Timothy's relentless approach, his breath on her face, she probably couldn't remember clearly!
Perfect.
Since she didn't remember, Timothy could say whatever he wanted!
If Monica did remember later, they would deal with it then.
Timothy had plenty of tricks up his sleeve!
During rush hour, with cars everywhere, Monica gripped the steering wheel, staring blankly at the city lights while waiting at a red light.
Did Timothy like her?
Was he confessing?
How could he like her?
From the moment they met, they had been like oil and water, always bickering and arguing.
When did their relationship start to change?
Was it the daily interactions, year after year?
Was it when she pretended to be his girlfriend for a month?
Or was it during that month in Crystal City, relying on each other?
"Beep beep beep—" The car behind her honked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
The light had turned green.
She quickly pressed the gas pedal.
The streets were bustling with traffic and noise.
At the restaurant.
In a luxurious private room, Brandon sat waiting for Penelope.
It was a quiet, elegant place, with a faint scent of perfume in the air.
Footsteps approached from outside.
Brandon looked expectantly at the door.
Led by a waiter, Penelope walked in, carrying a cake and a beautifully wrapped gift bag.
"Happy birthday!" she said with a bright smile. "I hope you haven't been waiting long. I got stuck in traffic picking up the cake."
Brandon stood up and walked towards her, his gaze gentle. "I told you not to bring anything, but you still did."
"It's your birthday," Penelope said. "How could I come empty-handed?"
Brandon took the cake and glanced at the gift bag. "What's this?"
"Your present."
Brandon smiled.
"See," Penelope handed it to him, "you say you don't want anything, but you can't hide how happy you are to get a gift."
"Everyone likes getting gifts. It's human nature." Brandon took it and asked, "What is it? Can I open it now?"
"You can, but it might be better to open it at home."
They chatted as they walked to their seats.
Brandon pulled out a chair for her like a true gentleman. "I want to see what you got me."
"A few more hours won't hurt. You can open it after I leave."
"Mysterious, aren't you?"
"It's all about the experience." Penelope sat down and looked around. "Is it just us?"
From the moment she entered, her calm and relaxed demeanor was an act.
She couldn't appear too cautious or defensive. It would hurt Brandon's feelings.
They had agreed to be friends, closer than friends, people who would never drift apart.
So, celebrating a friend's birthday was only natural.
But Penelope knew where the boundaries were.
She had to keep a certain distance, which was hard to manage.
Too casual, and they might unconsciously act too close.
Too formal, and it would kill the mood.
It was a tough balance.
"Yes," Brandon nodded. "Just us. I didn't invite anyone else."
Penelope smiled. "Why just me? It would be more fun with more people, eating cake, singing Happy Birthday, and making wishes."
"Who else is there? I'm alone now."
Isabella was gone.
Connor had left with Debra.
Nicole was no longer in his life.
Spending time with his parents? That would just lead to more nagging about marriage.
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