CEO Ex-Husband, Don't Bother Me

Chapter 237 - 183: A Vivid and Clean Person (Part 2)

"What’s past is past, so let’s not talk about it. Besides..."

She lowered her eyes in silence for a moment, then looked up at him and said softly, "Loving you was my choice. Since I made this decision, I have the courage to bear all the joy and pain that comes with being with you."

Deeply moved, Julian Donovan raised his hand to cup her noticeably thinner cheek, stroking it gently. "I love you. I love you, Naomi Shaw!"

Perhaps everyone believes that what they fall for at first sight is love. He was no different; after all, humans are visual creatures. And perhaps, in the beginning, no one wants to admit that this belief is wrong. He was no different.

But later, life and experience always teach us a lesson: love isn’t just the meeting, but the acceptance; not just the friction, but the change. True love is being able to stay together after weathering every storm. And for him, it was no different.

And so, he loved her. For the rest of his life, he would only ever love her.

"I love you too. I always have!"

Naomi Shaw smiled gently at him.

At eighteen, she was naive about love.

At twenty-four, after he had hurt her so deeply, she was lost when it came to love.

But now, she had a clear understanding of both love and life. She knew with certainty that she couldn’t live without the man named Julian Donovan.

Happiness, after all, was simple: I love you, and you love me.

The story of Donovan and Naomi is mostly over. After a little more, we will move on to Lara Nash’s story.

There will be another Chapter later.

During the two days before Julian Donovan regained his ability to speak, Naomi Shaw had relied on his eyes to understand what he wanted. A single look from him was all it took for her to know what he wanted to do or what he was trying to say.

When Willow Summers came to visit, she was stunned watching her interact with Julian Donovan. "Naomi, don’t tell me you have superpowers that let you read minds, too?"

"What are you talking about? I only understand him. I can’t read anyone else at all."

Naomi Shaw chuckled. Lillian Huxley, who had come along to visit, shot Willow Summers a look. "That’s called chemistry! Do you understand what chemistry is?"

"Emma, I just started watching a K-drama, and the young actor in it has this same mind-reading superpower. Hey, hey, let me tell you, that young actor is so handsome, I’m completely smitten!"

Writer Summers could successfully steer the conversation to handsome men in any situation, at any time, in any place. "The way a younger man dotes on the woman he likes is just so captivating. I so want to date a younger guy!"

As soon as she finished speaking, everyone in the room awkwardly turned their gazes to Walter Jennings, who was standing beside her. How was Walter Jennings supposed to feel, hearing his own woman fantasize about a younger guy like that? Of course, they all knew she was just fangirling out loud.

Sure enough, Walter Jennings’s already grim expression darkened several shades. Willow Summers shot him a defiant glare. They were still in the middle of a cold war. Wasn’t he the one who wanted to start it a few days ago? Fine, a cold war it is. If there was one thing Willow Summers was good at, it was her first-class ability to piss him off!

It was Naomi Shaw who laughingly changed the subject, defusing the tense atmosphere between the two. After the visit, on the way back, Walter Jennings drove with a dark expression the entire time. Willow Summers, however, was in high spirits, listening to the music in the car and occasionally singing along: "My passion, like a fire, sets the whole desert ablaze..." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his expression darken even more.

After getting home, Willow Summers kicked off her shoes and started humming the song from the car as she headed upstairs. "You give me raindrops, to moisten my heart; I give you a soft breeze, to open up your blossom..."

A tall figure blocked her way. She chose to ignore him, trying to sidestep the human wall to continue upstairs. He kept blocking her. She moved left, he moved left. She moved right, he moved right. He simply wouldn’t let her pass. Finally, she crossed her arms and stood her ground.

"We need to talk!"

Walter Jennings finally broke the silence. She snorted. "Aren’t we supposed to be in a cold war? What’s there to talk about?"

"In your heart, what’s more important: me or your novels?"

Walter Jennings asked the question that had been eating at him for days, his face taut. He had suggested the cold war a few days ago, hoping to get an explanation from her. He always felt vexed whenever he saw her completely ignoring him for the sake of her novels.

But he regretted suggesting the cold war the moment he got home that evening. Since she was pregnant, he was the one who usually cooked dinner for them. That night, he came home from work to find her enthusiastically eating a large plate of Aethelgardian pasta she had made for herself.

He forgot all about his own "cold war" on the spot. He strode over and took the plate away from her. "Who told you to eat something so un-nutritious? Why didn’t you wait for me to come home and cook?"

She immediately stood up and walked away without giving him a second glance. He chased after her and grabbed her arm. She slapped his hand away. "Honey, cold war! We’re in a cold war, remember!"

Then she flounced upstairs, leaving him standing there, fuming. ’I was the one who suggested the cold war, so how did I end up being the one getting the cold shoulder?’

After that day, she refused to eat his cooking or speak to him. At night, she would either lock herself in a different bedroom or go to her aunt’s place, leaving him completely flustered and agitated. Several times, he tried to reconcile with her, but she just gave him the silent treatment.

’Today, he was going all in. He had to get an answer from her, especially after she said she wanted to date a younger guy! Does she think I’m old? Sure, I’m a few years older than her, but don’t women these days prefer older, more mature men? Why is her taste so different from everyone else’s? Liking younger guys... isn’t she afraid people will call her a cradle robber?’

In her heart, what was more important: him or her novels?

His childish question made Willow Summers want to both laugh and cry. But seeing the serious look on his face, she suddenly felt a pang of sympathy. She took a step forward, grabbed his hand, and sighed. "Walter Jennings, your EQ... how can it be so low?"

Now that her icy demeanor had melted, a hint of a smile immediately appeared in his eyes. He squeezed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "I want to hear your answer!"

"Do you really have to force me to say all that cheesy stuff?"

She frowned, a troubled look on her face. These were the exact words he had used when he confessed his feelings to her. Now, she was throwing them back at him. Hearing them, the smile on his face deepened, his dark eyes filled with anticipation. She had no choice but to look serious. "If I really had to choose between you and my novels, the one I would give up without a second thought would be..."

He instantly tensed up, his grip on her hand tightening involuntarily. She laughed inwardly, leaned in close, and whispered, "The novels!"