Chapter 1185: Chapter 1185

Chapter 1185:

“You need a lesson on never trying to force me into compromising,” Harlee shrugged, chuckling.

As Harlee turned to Rhys, she noticed him still frozen, his mood clearly affected.

“Why aren’t you eating? Is it not to your taste?”

“For you,” Rhys replied, offering the toast he had just spread with jam.

But before Rhys could pass it to Harlee, Jonathan’s irritating voice interrupted.

“She hates toast with jam.

Didn’t you know that?” he barked, glaring at Rhys.

Then, Jonathan placed a shrimp on Harlee’s plate.

“I mentioned just ten minutes ago that she loves those pastries.

Didn’t you hear? Or is it that you simply don’t care to remember these things?”

Rhys’ expression grew darker.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Green refuses to learn from his thirty-three-year-old version, always thinking he’s superior,” Jonathan added, his words cutting but calm.

Before coming here, Jonathan had made sure to catch up on Rhys’ past, knowing how devoted he had once been to Harlee. Only then did Jonathan step in to play the role of a subtle matchmaker.

Seeing Rhys act this way now made Jonathan displeased. If Rhys had been as attentive as before, Jonathan wouldn’t have said a word.

But now, Rhys was acting like a rebellious teenager, which was infuriating.

Harlee shot Jonathan a cold look.

“Can’t you eat without talking?”

Explore fantastic tales on gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s; çοm

Jonathan chuckled, seeing his goal achieved, and said no more, lowering his head to sip his milk.

“Rhys…”

When Harlee turned to speak to Rhys, she saw him dejectedly biting into his toast, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion hitting her. Jonathan had a point. She did feel like she was raising a child. She needed to clear her thoughts and seriously think about what to do with her relationship with Rhys. Turning to Jonathan, Harlee asked, “Isn’t your Interpol work piling up? Aren’t you planning to return and handle it?”

Harlee now understood that Jonathan was trying to push her and Rhys together, but she felt a third party shouldn’t interfere in their relationship. She appreciated Jonathan’s good intentions but wanted to handle it herself. Whether to move forward or step back, she preferred to carry that burden alone.

Rhys nibbled on his toast, a slight smile playing on his lips, though his eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

He acknowledged how little he knew about Harlee’s circle, her interests, and what she disliked.

Again, Rhys despised that his memory had stuck at the age of twelve. Maybe there was some truth in Jonathan’s mockery. The Rhys who was thirty-three had seemed more capable than he felt now.

Jonathan stopped drinking his milk and turned to Harlee.

“Darling, you speak of the workload with Interpol as if…”

“I never agreed to manage that for you,” Harlee interjected sharply, distancing herself from the responsibility.

Jonathan froze.

.

.

.