Forgotten Love: Mr. President, Mrs. Fordham Has Rejected You!-Chapter 164: In the Next Life, Let’s Not Meet Again

Chapter 164: Chapter 164: In the Next Life, Let’s Not Meet Again

The century-old tree rustled in the cold wind, soaked in its biting chill.

Stella Grant stood under the Divine Tree, lifting her gaze to look at the intertwined red and green Wishing Ball high above.

They had tossed it up there together.

She extended her slender fingers, pointing, "Help me take it down."

Her voice was soft, without much fluctuation.

"Yes, ma’am." Keegan Lindsey dared not ask further, quickly fetched a long bamboo pole, and carefully retrieved the pair of Wishing Balls for her.

She reached out and caught the pair of Wishing Balls.

Buzz—Keegan’s phone rang.

He glanced at the number on the screen, feeling his heart leap to his throat with fright.

He discreetly swiped the answer button and promptly suggested, "Ma’am, it’s too cold today, we’ve got the Wishing Ball, let’s head back quickly."

"Ma’am, your body is weak now, the wind is too strong here."

"Wait a moment." Stella Grant began to unwrap the red Wishing Ball.

Her movements were slow, her fingertips turning slightly white from exertion.

"Keegan, have you ever been in love?"

He was taken aback for a moment and answered honestly, "No."

She continued with her task, her voice dispersing into the cold wind.

"Many times, we fall in love not with the other person, but with our love itself."

"One-sided sacrifice is not love; it’s selfishness because you deprive the other person of the chance to stand by your side."

Keegan didn’t quite understand, only feeling a bit uncomfortable inside.

The voice on the other end of the line was even more painfully subdued by the calm tone.

"Snap!" The Wishing Ball finally opened.

Two neatly folded notes fell out from inside.

The first one bore his usual sharp handwriting.

[May my wife Stella lead a peaceful and smooth life, safe and sound.]

The second note.

[May I meet my wife in the next life.]

Stella Grant’s gaze seemed pained by the handwriting, and her smile was heartwrenching.

"Haven’t even finished this life, and already thinking about the next one, quite fanciful."

She clutched the notes in her palm and looked at the tree full of Wishing Balls.

"Take the others down as well."

"Huh?"

But Keegan dared not defy her, so he carefully took down the balls that carried blessings one by one.

Stella Grant sat on the stone bench, slowly unwrapping them.

Sure enough, these were from their wedding, tossed by the guests, each one blessing Mr. and Mrs. Fordham.

[Wishing Mr. and Mrs. Fordham a healthy baby soon.]

[Wishing for a happy union, a hundred years of harmony.]

[Wishing for eternal love, never to be apart.]

She gathered up the notes one by one, piling them thickly in front of her.

She reached out to Keegan, "Lighter."

Keegan hesitated but handed it over.

Click.

A ghostly blue flame ignited.

She lit the notes in her hand, watching as each blessing turned to black ash, leaving with the wind.

Keegan called out in shock, "Ma’am, what are you..."

She quietly watched the small flame, an unshakable sadness in her eyes.

"Aiden Fordham, you are not important."

"You were just a blemish in my life, not the entirety of it."

"In the next life, let’s not meet again."

She spoke clearly and calmly, word by word.

The call time was still ticking, but it was unbearably painful.

They had no parting by life or death, just no ending.

At this moment, the sky suddenly began to snow lightly.

Cold, white, little by little... she reached out to catch a cold crystal.

The snowflake melted quickly into a drop of water in her palm, chilling her to the bone.

The fluttering snow covered her head and body, soon forming a thin layer of white.

She stood there like a soulless snow statue.

She turned and slowly started to walk back. After just two steps, her body suddenly weakened, and she fell straight down.

Not far away, two men approached.

The one in front was tall and upright, walking steadily, with the tall bodyguard behind him holding a large black umbrella for him.

"Stella."

His voice was low and urgent, feeling his way to gather the fallen figure into his arms.

The body in his arms was like a piece of cold ice that wouldn’t warm up, causing his heart to tremble fiercely.

This time, Stella Grant repeatedly ran a high fever, her whole body burning in a daze.

She felt like she had been thrown into a huge steamer, her entire body burning hot, with scorching heat even seeping from her bones.

A whole day and night passed.

Aiden Fordham stayed by the bedside, touching her flushed cheeks, listening to her unconscious murmurs.

He regretted it.

He shouldn’t have let her face all this alone.

He reached out, pulling the feverish body into his arms, holding her tightly.

She mumbled something unclear, but her uneasy murmurs scorched his heart with pain.

At night, Stella Grant half-consciously opened her eyes, seeing a blurred yet familiar silhouette.

She instinctively called out.

"Aiden Fordham..." Her voice was hoarse beyond recognition.

She thought she was dreaming, reaching out to hold him tighter.

The man’s body stiffened, then he used a more dominating force to hold her in his arms.

He held her and kissed her.

His burning lips fell on her forehead, then her nose, finally landing on her lips.

He couldn’t help but pin her beneath him, using his own body to dispel her feverish cold.

The next day, when Stella Grant woke up, the bright daylight was shining, and she was lying in the familiar room of the villa.

The fever had subsided.

The sticky feeling on her body was gone, as if she’d been washed, clean and refresh.

The air still seemed to have a lingering of a familiar refreshing scent.

She sat up, feeling a bit weak, as if she’d had a wild dream.

Stella Grant lifted the quilt to get out of bed, walking into the bathroom.

When she lifted her head, catching sight of herself in the mirror, she froze completely.

On her neck, by her collarbone, were patches of purplish-red marks, glaring and suggestive.

This... wasn’t a dream.

He had been here!

When Keegan knocked and entered, Stella Grant was already dressed neatly.

He carried a tray with a delicate breakfast and held a bag of clean clothes.

"Ma’am, you... how are you feeling today?"

Stella Grant walked out with a cold face, her gaze like icy blades scraping across him.

"Did you touch me?"

Keegan shivered in fright, the bag in his hand plopping to the ground with a "pat."

"Ma’am, I’m innocent! Even if I had a hundred guts, I wouldn’t dare!"

He hurriedly waved his hands, his face turning white.

Stella Grant’s expression showed no sign of easing, instead growing colder.

"You took advantage of the situation." She pointed to her neck, "Look at what’s on my neck."

Keegan’s gaze flicked over, his pupils shrank dramatically, and he blurted out.

"That’s President Fordham..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could bite off his tongue, immediately covering his mouth with his hand.

Too late.

"Take me to him."

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable command as she turned to walk down the stairs.

Keegan lamented inwardly.

He felt like he’d been trapped.

But he had no proof.

Oh heaven, help me, my life is at stake!