Ned raised an eyebrow and asked him, "Was that a confession? Or a death threat?"
Archibald still smiled as usual, but his eyes were a little moist. His first confession had triggered a severe allergic reaction in Sophie; the second had directly caused Sophie's mother to faint and be hospitalized. He really might as well have been coming to claim her life.
Ned pulled out a cigar and lit it. This was the first time Sophie had seen him smoke.
"Last time, you mentioned wanting to open a nightclub?" Ned mumbled vaguely.
Archibald's gaze shifted. "What, are you interested in investing?"
"Let's talk about it in a few days. Come find me at C&C next time, and we'll discuss it." Ned blew out a smoke ring.
Archibald changed the subject. "Why did you call me here? To watch you two on a date?" He pulled out a chair and sat down beside Sophie, then asked, "You don't mind if I sit next to Sophie, right?" He leaned in very close, asking in a low voice.
"No, no, I don't mind." Sophie shook her head, quietly scooting back a bit. Instinctively, she felt she couldn't let herself get that close to him anymore.
"You don't? But you look like you're really not used to me sitting next to you." Archibald deliberately leaned in closer to ask her.
Sophie's eyes widened, speechless.
"Heh heh, I'm just kidding, don't be nervous! What, now that you're Ned's girlfriend, even an old friend like me feels like a stranger? And here I was, loudly professing my love to you just a few days ago—" Archibald grinned, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the sadness.
It was obvious he was deliberately teasing her; he wanted to see more of Sophie's expressive facial reactions. From now on, she was Ned's girlfriend, and he probably wouldn't get to see her beauty anymore.
Ned said nothing. His face was hidden behind the smoke, his expression unreadable. The cigar's aroma was rich and mellow, more intense than a cigarette. He held it in his hand, taking a slow drag only after a long pause.
"Is business bad at the restaurant today?" Archibald glanced around the place and said deliberately.
"What do you mean?" Ned asked lazily.
"Come on, it's obvious. There's only one table occupied in the whole place—your own, the boss, plus us two friends here to support you. You want me to lie through my teeth and say business is booming?"
Ned snorted but didn't reply, clearly refusing to dignify the "joke" with a response.
"Archibald, do me a favor. Take her home."
At Ned's request, Archibald raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want me to do it?" He smiled suggestively.
Ned grinned. "Thanks in advance!" He stood up, clapped Archibald on the shoulder, then personally walked Sophie and Archibald to the door. Before they got in the car, Ned leaned in close, murmuring a few words into his friend's ear.
Archibald's expression turned serious. Once the car pulled onto the main road, he suddenly asked Sophie, "Do you know what he just whispered to me outside the restaurant?"
Sophie shook her head. "What?"
He pursed his lips. "He actually said: A friend's wife is off-limits. Sigh. I was the one who liked you first, who confessed first, who…"
Sophie held her breath. She turned away, staring out the window. Her cheeks burned—not from shyness, but from embarrassment. Archibald always loved to tease, but this time he seemed genuinely hurt. He kept bringing it up. She really had wounded him.
Why did she always end up hurting people? First Lara, now Archibald… would Ned be next?
Archibald muttered to himself, "He did it on purpose. That guy's been sharp since we were kids. He deliberately called me over, let me see all those Winnie-the-Poohs. With you as the only woman there, I didn't even need him to say it—I got the message. The first time I confessed to you, I was totally clueless, completely stunned. It was him who later told me you're allergic to flowers."
Sophie whipped her head around in surprise. Now it all made sense. Ned had known about her flower allergy all along. But how? Unless… the red roses delivered to the office the afternoon Archibald confessed were…
While driving, Archibald shot Sophie a sly glance. "Look, Ned's my brother and all, but I've gotta be honest—I don't buy for a second that he'd ever get serious with a woman."
Sophie, just snapping out of her thoughts, froze.
Archibald grinned. "Guys like us, with our backgrounds, can't play too wild. We've only got a few years to have fun. He's never been interested in women, never seriously dated—doesn't want the hassle. And then today he tells me you two are dating? You must be his fated fairy."
Archibald thought he was being funny, but when Sophie didn't respond after a long pause, he finally quieted down. "I think I got a bit carried away—" He glanced at her and managed to regain his composure.
"You seem upset," Sophie said softly.
"Hmph. Someone's stolen my girl—how could I be in a good mood?" Archibald glared at the windshield ahead.
"Didn't you just say guys like you, with your family backgrounds, only play around and never take things seriously?" Sophie replied, a hint of anger in her voice.
"I still put real feelings into it. Do you know how hard these past few days have been for me? I've been rushing nonstop across the U.S., pulling every family connection I have to get an authoritative specialist to come to the UK for your mother's consultation. And you? You're out dating Ned, falling in love." The more Archibald spoke, the angrier he got.
Sophie fell silent. After that, neither of them said another word.
When they reached the entrance of her small apartment, Archibald got out of the car and said, "Make sure to bundle up under the blanket when you sleep. Winter's coming."
"Thank you for your concern," she replied politely.
Archibald suddenly burst out laughing. "Look at me—driving you home, worrying if you'll be cold. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm your boyfriend!" Even his eyes were smiling.
Sophie froze on the spot.
Without waiting for her reply, Archibald got back in the car with a grin, waved, and drove off.
Sophie turned and went upstairs to her apartment. She didn't take his joke to heart—those repeated "jokes" had long stopped being funny. It was still early, so she planned to grab a few winter clothes from home to take to the hospital for her mom.
Her mother's condition had worsened. Starting yesterday, she'd been vomiting violently—projectile vomiting—and even eating had become difficult. She could only manage small, frequent meals, which worried Sophie deeply. She didn't know if her mom could hold on until the actual surgery.
Uncle Jonathan had finally tracked them down at the hospital. He'd hired a caregiver to look after her mom and was covering all the medical expenses. The American specialist he'd arranged for would arrive in the UK in about twenty days for the formal consultation. For now, the surgery date remained far off.