Coming out of the hotel, they stopped under a streetlight. Old Stewart turned his eyes back on Greta. There was a soft expression on his face and a complicated gleam in his eyes.
Greta felt a little strange. The way General Stewart looked at her was not only the way an elder looked at his kid. It seemed as if he had known her earlier and seemed to have something to say to her.
"Uncle Stewart," Greta took the initiative to ask, "do you have something to say to me?"
Old Stewart didn't expect the young girl to read his mind. He almost blurted out on a sudden urge that Brent was still alive and that he was exactly the young man she was supposed to meet tonight.
But at last, he swallowed it.
"No, it's nothing... I just regret that my son hasn't had the p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e of meeting you." He grinned.
Greta smiled and blurted out, "It's okay. I'll see you sometime."
Old Stewart nodded.
Greta helped George into the car and waved to Old Stewart before she got in.
The car drew away from the hotel slowly.
On the way home, George sighed and complained about the failure of Greta's blind date. He made a call to Dylan and Savannah and kept grumbling.
Greta listened and smiled silently.
Just then, the car slowed and stopped.
"What's the matter?" George and Greta both looked up at the driver.
"We got stuck in traffic," the driver said helplessly.
It was rush hour. There were many cars on the streets and traffic moved very slowly. They were late for dinner because of the traffic jam, and now they got trapped again.
"I'll get off to have a look, Grandpa," Greta said.
She opened the door and got out of the car. Looking ahead, she saw endless queues of cars crawling bumper to bumper through the main street.
All around, the drivers honked and complained.
"How long will it take?"
"It's been stuck for over two hours. Who knows."
Greta took a breath. The road had been obstructed for two hours?
She was about to turn back to her grandpa when she heard a voice above the noise.
"Mr. Stewart, there's too much traffic. I'm afraid you'll miss your flight in that case. Why don't you take the side street to the airport? Let me take what you left at the hotel."
Greta stopped short.
Mr. Stewart?
Miss your flight?
Could it be General Stewart's son, the young man she didn't see tonight?
She turned her head towards the voice and moved forward, fixing her eyes on a black sedan in the long queue in the oncoming traffic.
A man who had just checked the traffic was standing outside the car, reporting to the person inside.
Stewart Junior sat in the back of the car. Greta couldn't see him or hear him through only a crack in the window.
She heaved a sigh. It looked like General Stewart's son was supposed to go to catch his flight, but he found that he had missed something at the hotel and was returning to get it, only to find himself stuck in traffic. His guard suggested he change lanes for the airport first, but he still wanted to wait.
Greta suddenly felt amused.
She missed this young master of the Stewart family several times, but she didn't expect to see him on such an occasion and in such a place.
Oh, no, they did not meet yet.
He was in the car, and she couldn't see him.
With a feeling of wonder, she could not help but approach the black car, trying to get a good look inside the car.
Stewart Junior's guard turned in alarm when he sensed someone approaching their car and peeking over.
"What are you doing?" He cried as he blocked the car door glass winder, alert.
"Nothing. Traffic sucks, right?" Greta shrugged.
She didn't see the figure in the passenger's seat shiver at her words.
Even without lowering the window to see with his own eyes, he instantly recognized her voice in the crowd.
"Leave us alone! The sidewalk is wide. Go over there, girl!" The guard cried impatiently.
Greta suddenly lost the interest to know Stewart Junior. How much better could he be when his subordinate was so impolite?
He must be arrogant.
Never mind, this kind of person wasn't worth her time.
"This is not your private road," with that, she turned and was about to walk back to her family's car when a soft voice said behind her,
"I'm sorry, Miss Sterling. The security of my family is always very strict. If you are neglected, I apologize on behalf of my subordinate."
The guard looked at Greta in surprise when he heard his master called "Miss Sterling." The girl was George's granddaughter?
Greta stood still.
She stopped not because Stewart Junior recognized her as George's granddaughter, but his voice...
Why? Why did his voice sound so much like...
It was impossible!
It must be a hallucination, or the noise around her was too loud that her ears were deceived.
It was normal for two men to have similar voices.
She held her emotions and turned back.
"Mr. Stewart, you know me?"
"Yeah, Miss Sterling. I'm sorry that I missed our appointment tonight because of an emergency, " the sound came from the car and sounded calm.
"It's okay. Since it's an emergency, I can't blame you." Greta was not a narrow-minded girl.
At that moment, the driver of the Sterling family called. "Miss, there's less traffic. Let's go."
Greta nodded, turning to the black car, "Mr. Stewart, see you. Have a nice trip."
"Miss Sterling!" The man in the car suddenly raised his voice and called her.
Greta stopped and stared back at the car. "Anything else?"
After a long silence, the man finally said, "Nothing. See you, Miss Sterling."
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The guard of the Stewart family got on and said, "the traffic is easing up. We can go."
Inside, Brent was obviously feeling down. His face was barely discernible in the gloom.
When he just learned that she was outside, for a moment, he decided that if she recognized his voice, he would get off and meet her.
But she did not recognize him.
That was good. It proved that she had forgotten much about Brent.
"Well. Go to the hotel and get my things for me, please. I'll go to the airport first," he said quietly.
"Okay." The guard got off and asked the driver to turn around to go to the airport.
After the car moved out into the road, Brent turned his attention to the landscape speeding by.
Finally, the car stopped at the gate of the airport.
Brent got out of the car, taking one last deep look at the distant neon light before he walked towards the gate. Just as he stepped in, he heard a voice behind him—
"Brent!"
He was brought up sharp by the familiar voice. His heart struck heavily. He thought he was in a dream.
He slowly turned.
Greta was running to him, her c.h.e.s.t heaving as she panted along.
She stopped in front of him, staring at him straight in the eye. Then she raised her hand and slapped him in the face.
"You're a pain in the ass! You clearly know it's me, but you pretended not to know me and go like that! How dare you!" Her voice vibrated with a mixture of anger and enthusiasm.
She had already recognized him when he was in the car.
How could she mistake his voice? His tone was unique in the world for her.
She didn't think she was hallucinating.
She knew it was him when he spoke in the car, but she couldn't believe it.
Stewart Junior was Brent.
The one who warned Martha not to provoke her anymore was him; the one who saved her from Beato's hand was him.
It turned out he wasn't dead. He was there all the time.
For a few seconds, she was so excited that she couldn't wait to pour her heart out to him, but it seemed that he wasn't going to get off and meet her.
She deliberately said, see you and pretended to leave just to see if he would stop her.
But he didn't.
Back to her family's car, she asked her grandpa to go home first and then took a taxi to catch up with his car.
Along the way, she seemed to realize why he had avoided seeing her even though he was not dead.
He was afraid to ruin her life, to remind her of the bad experience she wanted to forget.
And his presence was a constant reminder of her past.
What a fool! She had engraved him deep in her heart and could not forget him as long as she lived.
Even if he avoided her, she could not forget him.
Brent froze.
The slap, however, made Brent smile.
His wild cat came back.
"Sorry, my Lord." He reached out and touched the girl's cheek.
"I am no longer your Lord, and you're not my bodyguard." Greta's eyes reddened.
She grew up, and he became more mature, calmer, and more handsome.
After a pause, she murmured, "you have my permission to call me Greta."
"Greta," he smiled.
Tears came out of her eyes, and she ran into his arms.
It didn't matter why he came back from the dead and why he became Stewart's son.
She believed that she and he had plenty of time to get to know each other.
There was a lifetime.