Chapter 270


    Chapter 270


    “You have pictures of me as a child?” Julie, seated in the passenger seat, pondered for a while before


    deciding to clear up this matter, driven by her unshakeable curiosity. “Which picture of me did you


    keep?”


    “Your son is spouting nonsense!” Kieran, with his hands firmly on the steering wheel, responded


    sternly.


    Their traitorous son, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward to whisper into Julie’s ear, “Mom, I swear


    I’m not lying. The picture is in Kerry’s wallet. Check it out if you


    don’t believe me.”


    “Really?” Julie asked.


    Ivan firmly replied, “Really.”


    Kieran said, “No.”


    Ultimately, Julie chose to trust her son. She asked Kieran, “Where’s your wallet?”


    “I didn’t bring it.”


    “It’s in Kerry’s pocket.” The little turncoat pointed at the bulge in Kieran’s pocket.


    Just as Kieran was about to start the car, his foot already on the elerator, he quickly covered his


    pocket, a clear giveaway of Ivan’s statement. It was the most tant act of guilt Mr. Hemandez had


    ever disyed.


    This practically confirmed Julie’s suspicion that Kieran’s wallet, and the picture within, were indeed in


    his pocket.


    “Let go.” Julie sternly grabbed his hand, her gaze unwavering as she stared into his deep eyes, intent


    on overpowering him with her gaze.


    Ivan in the back seat wasughing heartily. Kieran turned to re at his son, calling him a “traitor.”


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    Ivan was unfazed by the usation. Instead, he pointed at his father’s pocket, his gazeforting.


    “Kerry, don’t worry. Mom won’t divorce you over this, just let her take a look!”


    Kieran shot Ivan a nce. Ivan immediately backed down.


    He gently patted Julie’s shoulder, meekly suggesting, “Mom, our teacher said everyone has privacy


    and we should respect that. If Kerry doesn’t want to show you, then you shouldn’t insist.”


    Mr. Hernandez felt relief. Finally, his son’was showing some resemnce to himself.


    But just as Mr. Hernandez was embracing this sentiment…


    “I took a picture with my phone anyway. I’ll send it to you!” With that, Ivan quickly pulled out his phone,


    efficiently navigated to Julie’s contact in his messaging app, and sent her the cherished picture.


    As he did this, he said, “I thought I was Kerry’s only son and kept my childhood picture in his wallet all


    the time. But the photo was yours! I might not be his biological son.”


    Julie pulled out her phone to receive the message. Kieran swiftly reached over to stop her, but she


    skillfully turned away from him and opened the message. Kieran, restricted by the seatbelt, tried to


    unbuckle it, but the quick-witted woman had already received the picture.


    And then… silence engulfed the space. Kieran leaned on Julie’s back, staring nkly at the picture on


    her phone.


    It was a set of artistic photos of Julie at three months old. The image quality was bad, yet incredibly


    adorable. She was dressed in a red halter top and matching shorts, sitting in a wooden tub against a


    ck background. Her beautiful eyes were squinted inughter, her tummy squeezed by the small top,


    looking like three rubber rings stacked on top of each other.


    Her pose in the tub was reminiscent of an angel.


    Upon seeing the picture, Julie’s eyes widened in shock. After about half a minute of silence, she turned


    to Kieran, pointing at the picture. “How did you get this picture?”


    Seeing Mrs. Hernandez’s expression, it was clear that a storm was brewing. Mr. Hernandez nervously


    retracted his neck, responding, “Your sister gave it to me as a wedding gift when we got our marriage


    certificate.”


    Julie extended her hand, “Give me the wallet!”


    Kieran shook his head, refusing. He quickly buckled up and started the car.


    Julie tried to grab the wallet, but he sternly warned, “Honey, don’t. Our son is in the carl If you touch


    “Then pull over!” Julie sat back in her seat, resigned.


    Ivan leaned against his car seat, grumbling, “If we wait any longer, it’ll be dark.”


    I’ll get excited, and if I get excited, I can’t control myself.”


    Finally, a sensible suggestion. Kieran reached out and gently stroked Julie’s head. “Good girl, hand it


    over


    That’s more like it! Julie swatted his hand away.


    The two-hour journey was just long enough for Ivan to take a nap. When he woke up, they seaside


    town unlike any other, not reliant on fishing for its livelihood.


    As they entered the town, the distinct scent of earth filled the air


    already at Sycamore Vige. The vige was tranquil at night, a


    The town was like an illustration from a fairy tale, arge iron gate separating it from the asphalt road.


    Entering the rusty gate, a straight road stretched out before them, warmly lit by yellow streetmps.


    On either side of the road were heat fields of flowers, with an oldmp ced at regr intervals.


    Under the hazy moonlight, the scene was dreamlike. Beyond the flower fields was the sea. When Julie


    rolled down the car window, she could faintly hear the gentle crashing of waves, the air carrying a salty


    tang. Ivan’s head peeked out curiously, pointing at the vibrant flower fields, and asked, “What kind of


    flowers are those?”


    “Pansies,” replied Julie. Seeing Ivan almost halfway out of the car window, she turned to Kieran and


    suggested, “Shall we park and take a walk?”


    It was not yette, and many tourists were taking pictures around the flower fields. The streetmps


    cast long, romantic shadows.


    Ivan perked up at the suggestion. Kieran parked the car by the roadside and Ivan immediately


    unbuckled his seatbelt and dashed off. Julie quickly followed, calling out, “Slow down.”


    The moment Ivan heard Julie’s voice, he immediately settled down, giggling as he ran back to her side.


    He reached out to grab a hold offter sleeve, looking up at her with a cúrious gaze, “Are these purple,


    white, and yellow flowers all called pansies?”


    Julie gazed at the flower garden where purple, white, and yellow pansies intermingled beautifully. She


    patted the young boy’s head, “Yes. These are the favorite flowers of your father!”


    “Which flower do you like?” The boy was curious.


    Julie crouched down, adjusting his coat, “I quite like roses. There was an ancient poet about it. Want to


    hear it?”


    The boy nodded eagerly.


    Julie thought for a moment and then began, “In the court, the lilies stand tall and fair, by the pond, the


    lotus blossoms without care… what was the rest?”


    “In the beauty of spring, only the roses are the truly beauty, blossoming and dazzling all people.” Kieran


    chimed in from behind her, handing her a white scarf.


    Julie wrapped the scarf around Ivan, then joked, “Your dad sure is cultured! And your mom is quite


    impressed!”


    The young boy pouted, “I heard on TV that this is called ‘being lovey-dovey”.”


    “TV is a mischievous thing,” Julie replied, yfully adjusting the boy’s scarf.


    As soon as she stood up, a white mink scarf was wrapped around her neck: The man lowered his


    head, carefully adjusting the scarf for her, then pulled her long


    hair out from under it.


    Caught between the two, Ivan looked up innocently, “The TV also said, this is called being a third


    wheel.”


    “Your mom is right, TV is not a good thing.” Kieran reached out to turn Ivan’s head towards the flower


    field, “Son, let’s enjoy the flowers!


    Ivan immediately gripped Julie’s sleeve tightly, “My mom is our family flower! She’s far more beautiful


    than these flowers!”


    His proud and aloof demeanor melted Julie’s heart.


    Hearing Ivan’s innocent words, Kieran actually nodded in agreement, adding, “Not only is this family


    flower beautiful, but it also smells sweeter than wildflowers.”


    Ivan didn’t understand what this meant, but Julie did.


    She smirked at the man and asked, “How do you know wildflowers smell good, have you smelled


    them?”


    “Yeah, I have a good sense of smell. I can smell them from here.” He pointed at the pansies in the field,


    sniffing the air to prove his point.


    Julieughed, “These are delicate flowers, not the wildflowers you’re talking about.”


    “I only know that pansies are native to northern Europe and are amon wildflower species there.”


    There’s nothing scarier than a cultured rogue! Julie now understood what that meant.


    “Do you know what the flowernguage of pansies is?” He wrapped his arm around Julie’s waist, the


    two of them slowly walking behind Ivan. The little boy was hopping around up ahead, overly excited as


    if he hadn’t been outside in forever..


    Julieughed and asked, “What is it?”


    “Didn’t you work part-time at a flower shop when you were in school?” The flower shop was named


    Sober Color. Next to Sober Color was a bookstore, both of which had fully transparent ss windows.


    Every Saturday and Sunday, Kieran would go to the bookstore to read and have coffee.


    But Julie wasn’t much of a reader, she felt like she was wasting space whenever she entered a library.


    At that time, she was trying to gain financial independence from her family, so she decided to work at


    Sober Color next door. This way, she could be close to Kieran and even hitch a ride home with him


    after work.


    Remembering the past, Julie pouted her lips, “Sober Color didn’t have pansies.”


    “What flowers did Sober Color have the most?” He asked.


    “Red roses, and their flowernguage represents steadfast love.” Julie answered without hesitation.


    “What was behind the red roses?” He asked.


    Julie paused. Back then, behind the red roses was the transparent ss of the flower room, Across the


    ss was the transparent ss of the reading room, and behind that ss was him, sitting across from


    her…


    **


    The beginning stages of love require very little nourishment! Just seeing each other, brushing against


    each other when passing by, would stir a wave of imaginary power in her heart, creating her love. A


    trivial thing could make her lose herself in love.