Mr. Conrad Proposes To His Ex-wife Again

After a week, Stella settled down.

She was in a small town, far less developed, wealthy, crowded, and stunning than City N. However, it wasn’t urbanized, so the unique scenery such as small bridges over the flowing stream remained. The neighborhood was quite harmonious as well. It was quite suitable for living.

When she called Sherry, the latter felt so surprised, wondering why she had left town so suddenly.

As soon as she divorced the man, Stella had been longing to stay in a place where nobody knew her. However, her plan was always delayed by all kinds of things. If it weren’t that Clarence gave her a reason to escape this time, probably she still couldn’t have made up her mind.

She like this town a lot - it was full of fresh air and sunshine. Everyone was warm-hearted and kind.

She also talked to Stanford. Whenever there was any problem relevant to her work, they could talk through the phone. Fortunately, she was only in charge of design drafts now. She could always send him over the finished digital copies.

However, Stella wondered how long the leisure time and peace could last. She knew it clearly - if Clarence wanted to find her, it was just a piece of cake for him.

He hadn’t haunted her down. She guessed it was probably that he still had the last trace of kindness at the bottom of his heart, which woke his conscience up.

Every afternoon, Stella would go to sit on the bench by the river, watching the sun go down. Then she would go home on foot after the sunset.

Her landlady was a weird woman. She looked in her forties or fifties, but she dressed like a seventy- or eighty-year-old. Her tone was always cold when talking. She seldom smiled, and nor did she like the activities such as group dancing, which were the most popular among the elderly. She would read a finance newspaper.

Stella was a bit curious, but she didn’t ask the landlady at all. The landlady stayed on the first floor, and Stella stayed on the second. They could merely disturb each other.

Arriving home, Stella yelled to the house, “Ms. Anderson, I bought a bunch of flowers. Do you have a vase that I could put them in?”

An indifferent female’s voice was heard inside the house, “Look around in the yard.”

There were quite a lot of bottles and jars in the small yard. Stella found one that the flowers could be put in. Then she watered the flowers. Dolores Anderson walked out with a tray in her hands, “Your dinner is in the kitchen. Go get it yourself.”

Stella said with a smile, “Thank you, Ms. Anderson.”

Although they agreed not to disturb each other when signing the agreement, Ms. Anderson would always cook for her when she was preparing the meal.

the dining table, Stella licked her lips and flattered sincerely, “Ms. Anderson, you are such

are the first one who said

do think the food you cook is quite delicious.” Stella took a sip of the fish soup, “Anyone criticized your cooking skills?

of eating dishes I prepared. Thank you for speaking so highly

Stella was speechless.

was a bit angry with

has your son often

answered, “I haven’t seen him for

Ms. Anderson, your cooking skills must have improved a lot. If your son had a chance to eat the dishes you cook, he

her face, “Forget it. He never speaks nicely. I’m afraid that he hates me. How

there be any deep hatred between a mother and a son? Even if there is a misunderstanding, it will

a mother more and more. All mothers in this world hoped that their children would be well, and they were willing to do anything

said, “It’s not that simple.

“I do know!”

from

time, Stella paused

just ask casually. It’s

younger brother because of the difficult labor. I was three or four at that time. I’ve forgotten

soup for her, “Enough. I don’t want to hear the

lay on the bed. Looking at the bright moonlight outside the window, she

she found that she seemed

her former SIM card from the drawer and put it in her phone.

said in an extremely

“Go ahead.”

was hoarse and sleepy.

our agreement, but I promise that I’ll never show up in front of you again. For my brother’s matter, I want

“Beg me for what?”

quite shameless now,