He ultimately set the phone back down. They had argued so unpleasantly at noon; he had even stormed out by slamming the door behind him. Calling him now might just further sour his mood.
The spot beside her was chillingly cold. Although she had always known she shouldn't fall deeply into this relationship, Song Qiao still found herself unwittingly in love with this man.
At this thought, Song Qiao, who was lying down, suddenly sat up, rubbed her hair in irritation, and turned her head to gaze out of the floor-to-ceiling window, staring blankly with her knees hugged to her chest.
She didn't know how long she had been daydreaming—perhaps a few minutes, maybe just over ten. Just when she was getting drowsy, the sound of a car engine came from outside.
Lu Jingchen... had returned.
Instantaneously, a thought flashed through Song Qiao's mind, clearing the haze of drowsiness. Hardly had her feet touched the floor, when she froze, a conflated expression spreading across her face.
