"Forgot." Koa Jackson explained succinctly, one hand still draped over Mia Ginger’s shoulder, his expression relaxed and quite pleased. It was obvious that they had been whispering sweet nothings at home for a while.

Denver Petal just watched, feeling rather surprised.

He had met Koa Jackson abroad by chance, and frankly, it was a bit emotional to recall. Koa Jackson had saved his life.

Martial arts are profoundly broad and deep, but in today’s era, there are not many people who practice it.

Koa Jackson explained that it was his grandfather who insisted he train to strengthen his body. But it’s apparent to the keen observer that his skills are subtly hidden; he never uses his fists to teach someone a lesson—one leg is enough.

Though they are about the same age, he truly admires this person.

In their initial relationship, it was mostly him making the move to meet, while Koa Jackson remained indifferent and slow to warm up.

And now he has unexpectedly fallen in love.

Denver thinks randomly, and suddenly his phone vibrates again.

He looks down to see a text message, "Josephine Holland is drunk, please come and pick her up, I’m her friend."

The sender is Josephine Holland, but it’s quite clear the message wasn’t written by her. Denver purses his lips and directly replies: "Please send her home, I have work and can’t leave."

"Are you Denver Petal?" The phone quickly vibrates again.

"Yes." Denver replies.

"She said she wants you to take her home. I can’t handle it; she won’t listen to anything I say," the person continues.

"Okay, please call her brother, Frank Holland."

Denver puts away his phone, glancing down at the two boxes by his feet, and asks Olivia Williams, "Is this all?"

"Yes, I don’t have much." Olivia smiles lightly, glancing at the pocket where he’s put his phone, her lips pursed without asking anything.

Since their unexpected kiss, Denver’s phone calls and messages have suddenly multiplied, and his mood is no longer as relaxed and carefree as it was before. He’s often found with furrowed brows.

She clearly knows it’s because of that radiant woman but chooses not to say much.

Denver is nice.

She harbors feelings for him that fall short of being lovers; her emotions sour and swell with his affairs yet stop there. She knows exactly what she wants—just stability.

The roiling, unstable life she does not want; nor does she want a tumultuous, intense, and complicated romance.

Maintaining such a marriage is simply her way of continuing to give them a chance. She never says it, but Denver should be very aware.

Olivia withdraws her gaze, chats casually with Mia Ginger for a while, returns the room key to her, and soon, they go downstairs to eat together.

Denver puts Olivia’s boxes into the trunk, turns and asks, "What do you want to eat?"

"I’m fine with anything." Olivia isn’t picky.

Denver then turns his gaze to Koa Jackson and Mia Ginger, asking, "There’s a private kitchen on Willow New Street, the chef there is my friend’s cousin. Olivia and I went once, his cooking is quite good, shall we go there?"

Mia Ginger and Koa Jackson, unfamiliar with the neighborhood, glance at each other and agree right away.

Olivia hesitantly looks at him, "Last time we had to book five days in advance."

Private kitchens have limited space. The one they went to only serves three tables each night and requires booking at least three days in advance. Hearing his sudden suggestion, Olivia naturally reminds him promptly to avoid any awkwardness later.