Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 140

The sound was crisp and clear, ringing with a hint of surprise, like a gentle stream flowing through a mountain valley, pressing steadily against my ear.

| glanced up slightly, and through my blurry vision, | saw a familiar figure dressed in a black and white windbreaker, with a black beanie perched on his head, standing a few steps below, his face lit up with joy as he looked at me.

Our eyes met, and I recognized those lovely eyes. It was Timothy.

| quickly fought back the tears and blurted out, “Why are you here?”

Only then did | realize my voice was quivering with a hint of crying.

Timothy caught on to that as well, and in a few strides, he was in front of me, bending over and asking. “Did you get hurt?” No way was | going to share my embarrassing mishap with him, so | played along. “Just a bit of ankle pain.”

It wasn’t like the time | twisted my ankle at the mall; the pain was noticeably sharper this time around.

The next second, a warm touch suddenly landed on my foot, and when | looked down, Timothy’s hand was already cradling my delicate ankle.

“It's a sprain; doesn’t look like the bone’s affected.” He looked serious, gently massaging my ankle, “Come on, piggyback ride to the infirmary.”

After saying that, he shifted his backpack to his front and crouched down before me, all in one smooth motion. | didn’t even have time to think.

| was a few years older than him; there was no way | could let him carry me like that. “It’s alright; it'll ease off.” 1-downplayed, adding, “Besides, | need to head down the mountain.”

Hearing this, Timothy turned his head slightly, saying with a hint of annoyance, “Xaviera, didn’t you check the weather forecast? There’s a change coming, thick tog and slippery paths on the mountain. It’s dangerous to go down now, get it?”

| hadn't paid attention to that.

“Alright, | booked a suite; you could crash there for the night.” He sighed in resignation. “Anyway, | can’t just leave you in the lurch.”

As he spoke, his slender fingers gently tapped on his shoulder, motioning for me to lean on him. “It’s not that painful. His straightforward approach caught me off guard. “I can stand up on myText © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

own.”

| tried to get up after saying this, but a ripping pain shot through my ankle, making me see

The sound was crisp and clear, ringing with a hint of surprise, like a gentle stream flowing through a mountain valley, pressing steadily against my ear.

| glanced up slightly, and through my blurry vision, | saw a familiar figure dressed in a black and white windbreaker, with a black beanie perched on his head, standing a few steps below, his face lit up with joy as he looked at me.

Our eyes met, and I recognized those lovely eyes. It was Timothy.

| quickly fought back the tears and blurted out, “Why are you here?”

Only then did | realize my voice was quivering with a hint of crying.

Timothy caught on to that as well, and in a few strides, he was in front of me, bending over and asking, “Did you get hurt?” No way was | going to share my embarrassing mishap with him, so | played along. “Just a bit of ankle pain.”

It wasn’t like the time | twisted my ankle at the mall; the pain was noticeably sharper this time around.

The next second, a warm touch suddenly landed on my foot, and when | looked down, Timothy’s hand was already cradling my delicate ankle.

“It's a sprain; doesn’t look like the bone’s affected.” He looked serious, gently massaging my ankle, “Come on, piggyback ride to the infirmary.”

After saying that, he shifted his backpack to his front and crouched down before me, all in one smooth motion. | didn’t even have time to think.

| was a few years older than him; there was no way | could let him carry me like that. “It’s alright; it'll ease off.” | downplayed, adding, “Besides, | need to head down the mountain.”

Hearing this. Timothy turned his head slightly, saying with a hint of annoyance, “Xaviera, didn’t you check the weather forecast? There’s a change coming, thick fog and slippery paths on the mountain. It’s dangerous to go down now, get it?”

| hadn't paid attention to that.

“Alright, | booked a suite: you could crash there for the night.” He sighed in resignation. “Anyway, | can’t just leave you in the lurch.”

As he spoke, his slender fingers gently tapped on his shoulder, motioning for me to lean on him. “It’s not that painful.” His straightforward approach caught me off guard, “I can stand up on my own.”

| tried to get up after saying this, but a ripping pain shot through my ankle, making me see

stars.

“Stop messing around. Xaviera. A sprain can be minor or serious,” Timothy gave me a helpless look and said, “come on.” His words made me a bit scared. After all, | still had so much left undone; | couldn't just go down like this.

So, | reached out my hand and said. “Thank you.”

Timothy helped me all the way to the mountain’s infirmary. By the time the check-up was done, my ankle had swollen dramatically.

The doctor said it was good that it was taken care of promptly and that it should heal with a couple of days‘ rest. My plan to go down the mountain was folled, so | had to bother Timothy again to take me back to the thatched cottage.

We hadn't gone far when we unexpectedly bumped into Shirley. She looked at us with an incredulous expression, surprised, “Timothy, are you and Ms. March that close?”

The way she said the name told me they knew each other too. Made sense, Rivertown wasn’t that big, and the Temple family was an old—money clan; it was logical they’d know each other.

But the look Shirley gave me was full of insinuation. “Ms. March’s connections seem to be wider than | thought.” Her tone was so sarcastic; she might as well have written “I’m mocking you” on her face.

| got it: she had just been snubbed by Hogan not long ago, so it was normal for her to be in a bad mood.