Chapter 23: Nice Technique
1176words
The streets were wet, and my white snow boots were splashed with muddy water.
"You seem close with my mom?" I could tell from their conversation that they had more interaction than I did with either of them.
"I stayed here for a few months three years ago." His eyes darkened.
Sophia never allowed outsiders to stay overnight, especially men.
Three years ago...
I remembered that summer vacation when Elizabeth brought someone here.
He was in a wheelchair, stayed in his room all day, never went out, never spoke, and kept the curtains drawn even during the day.
I never saw him—not when he arrived, not when he left.
Could it have been Ethan?
I glanced at his legs but saw nothing unusual.
I wanted to ask more, but suddenly felt my arm being gripped tightly. I was lifted off my feet and crashed into his hard chest.
Ethan had grabbed my arm.
"Careful."
"Sorry about that!"
We had nearly been hit by a candied hawthorn vendor. Two young people apologetically pulled back their treats.
"Good thing I'm not wearing a shirt—there wouldn't be enough buttons left," he said with a smile.
I realized my hands were clutching the front of his clothes.
"I'm sorry..."
I quickly let go, carefully smoothing out his clothing.
Later, when our hearts connected, he often couldn't control himself. He would take off his shirt as soon as he entered the door, not even bothering to unbutton it—just ripping it off, then ripping off mine.
Afterward, he would pick up the buttons and sew them back on himself.
I both loved and was embarrassed by his passion.
During the day, he was the perfect gentleman, well-dressed, with an otherworldly handsomeness.
At night, he was a ravenous beast, a wolf howling at the moon...
We explored many places and saw many rare works of art.
As we were about to head back, Ethan suggested visiting a church.
I didn't understand—why would such a powerful CEO visit a church? Had he done something that weighed on his conscience?
There was only one ancient church in the area, situated on a hillside. Not many people visited, and few knew about it.
Legend had it that the church's wishing fountain was magical—if you threw a wish ball into it, your wish would come true.
I hesitated, not wanting to go.
Years ago, I had come here with Jackson. I had thrown my wish ball a dozen times but couldn't get it in. Eventually, I gave up. Later, I came back alone to try again but still failed.
It seemed heaven itself was preventing us from being together.
My eyes reddened, but I smiled faintly and agreed to go.
I was curious to see if this man I had married so hastily less than a week ago would have better luck.
In the church, he was seriously writing his wish, his back to me, not letting me see.
I didn't want to look anyway. I wrote our names on my own note and handed it to the priest.
The priest looked at it, smiled, closed his eyes, said words I couldn't understand, and finally placed the note inside a wish ball.
This wish ball needed to be thrown into a fountain three meters high in front of the church.
I looked at Ethan standing beside me with his arms crossed. His ball was already in the fountain, and he was waiting for me.
A wave of guilt washed over me. I felt I was doing this man a disservice because I didn't love him—we were just two strangers who had ended up together.
"What's wrong? Did you make such a big wish that you can't throw it?" he asked.
He stood beside me, his posture straight like a guardian warrior.
For some reason, I thought Ethan might be good at telling dry jokes.
I didn't respond, just weighed the ball in my hand, looked at the fountain, and threw it with what I thought was my best technique.
I threw it hard, harder than usual.
As expected, the ball didn't go in.
However, unlike previous attempts where it would bounce off to some unreachable place or hit a passerby, this time it rebounded directly toward Ethan. He caught it firmly, right in front of his face, just centimeters from his glasses!
"Alia's technique is impressive. If I hadn't been quick, this dog's life would have ended right here."
When he did speak, it was always unexpected.
"..."
"Hehe..." Passersby laughed.
Ethan gave me a disdainful look, and in that moment, casually tossed my ball—straight into the fountain!
"Hey! That was my wish!"
"It's mine too."
With that, he turned and walked away.
I had to admit, he was an excellent basketball player—he could probably make the shot with his eyes closed.
I looked at the fountain, then at Ethan's retreating figure. Fuming, I hurried after him.
Just as I caught up, my foot slipped, and I nearly fell.
Ethan reached out and pulled me into his arms.
I hurriedly pushed him away, but then heard familiar laughter coming from down the hill. I quickly grabbed Ethan's hand and hid behind a nearby rock.
"Shh!"
The rock wasn't large enough to hide both of us. Ethan had his back to them, with me squeezed in front of him.
"Alia, we're married—out in the open, not having an affair."
His serious tone made the statement sound almost colorful.
"Shut up!"
I glared up at him. It was the first time I'd spoken to him this way, reminiscent of how I had directly addressed Jackson at the hospital.
But his eyes were full of affection, his lips curved in a smile.
"I heard Alia lived in Paris for a while. I was hoping she could show us around, but she said she had plans," Marcus's voice drifted up.
"Alia generally doesn't like getting too close to people," Claire added, unusually talkative.
"It's her territory. She's probably meeting up with old friends," Noah chuckled.
"Do you think Alia has a boyfriend? She's so beautiful and talented," Marcus asked tentatively.
Claire and Noah remained silent.
"Noah, you and Alia were classmates. What do you think of me?" Marcus asked unexpectedly.
"I don't like men," Noah replied.
...
After spending time with Ethan, Noah had developed a similar dry humor.
Few people knew about my relationship with Jackson.
We only met occasionally for meals. Though we called ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, we were more like each other's emotional sounding boards.
Hearing Marcus's inquiry, I unconsciously gripped Ethan's clothes tightly.
"Hey! Doesn't that person look like Ethan?" Marcus had sharp eyes.
There weren't many people at the church, so they tended to notice anyone they saw.
I fearfully pressed closer to Ethan.
Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his coat, one hand gently lifting my delicate chin.
"Mmm..." My eyes widened in shock!
Ethan leaned down, hiding me under his coat, his warm lips covering mine, completely shielding me from view.
