Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 74

Chapter 74: Dissolving (“He likes France, doesn’t he? Fine, going abroad is even…”)

Lu Feiran was sullen all the way home.

He used the excuse of bathing the dog, carried the puppy into the bathroom, and locked the door.

Warm water streamed ceaselessly from the faucet, filling half the tub. The little Bernese Mountain Dog instinctively padded into the bath, wetting itself, but Lu Feiran remained in a daze until the waterline rose past its neck.

The puppy rested its paws on the edge of the tub and let out a bark. Lu Feiran snapped back to the present, sat on the edge of the tub, massaged the dog’s fur until it was thoroughly soaked, and turned off the water.

Why did he have to ask others about his past?

If there was anything Lance wanted to know, he could have asked him directly, and Lu Feiran would have confessed everything.

Although his past was somewhat difficult to mention, looking back on it, Lu Feiran felt incredibly foolish.

But the person he was now was shaped by those past experiences, bit by bit.

Some pitfalls he had experienced and could now perfectly avoid. Others he might have stepped into a second time, but he was no longer completely helpless.

He wouldn’t run from his past, so why didn’t Lance ask him?

Lu Feiran vaguely sensed that their communication had broken down. But… sharing everything was something lovers did, not what should happen between friends-with-benefits.

He stubbornly defended the boundary of the FWB relationship—a position from which he could advance or retreat, the position that offered him the greatest sense of security.

It was also the position that made him feel the most conflicted.

He had successfully maintained a certain distance, but that distance felt like a thin layer of fog separating him from Lance.

Lu Feiran felt uncomfortable. He could only lock himself in the bathroom, clearing his mind and letting his thoughts drift aimlessly.

The foam from the pet shampoo exuded a clean scent. The little Bernese Mountain Dog was exceptionally well-behaved. As a puppy, it wasn’t large and was easy to care for.

The dog was quiet and liked to rest its head on its owner’s knee, looking up at him, as if its owner was its entire world—a very soothing presence.

As Lu Feiran bathed him, he felt his mood calm considerably.

Who could dislike a good puppy?

Lu Feiran brought the dog out and saw Lance sitting on the sofa, sketching. The pencil tip made a soft, scratching sound. He set the dog down and walked over to look.

It was a design for a cake.

Lu Feiran gently placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, suppressing the guilt in his heart. “Does this need to be designed, too? Any simple style based on an online tutorial would be fine.”

“Anything for you cannot be just fine,” Lance tilted his head, leaning his face into Lu Feiran’s palm. A strand of hair tickled his wrist.

Lance’s drawing continued, the scratching sound grating on Lu Feiran’s nerves.

He suddenly snatched the pen from Lance’s hand, bent over him, lifted Lance’s chin to make him look up, and their lips and tongues met for a quick kiss.

“Stop drawing! Stop drawing!” Lu Feiran repeated several times.

He knew he wouldn’t even have a chance to see this cake—he would be long gone—but he desperately didn’t want Lance’s effort to go to waste.

“Why?”

Lance was still looking up at him, his face untouched by lust despite the kiss. His composure stood in sharp contrast to Lu Feiran’s distress.

He saw Lu Feiran’s discomfort, raised a hand to touch his face. The two adjacent rings on his fingers met, leaving a cold sensation on Lu Feiran’s warm cheek.

“You seem distressed. I don’t understand,” Lance asked. “Tell me about it, hmm?”

A corner of his secret thoughts had been glimpsed again. Lu Feiran was startled. He put on an expressionless poker face and tried to pull away.

His fingertips were gripped. Lance put down the drawing board and stood up.

He was half a head taller than Lu Feiran and much broader in the shoulders. Standing up with a stern face, he towered like a mountain, suddenly putting immense pressure on Lu Feiran.

Lance’s palm rested on Lu Feiran’s fair neck, and he said slowly, “Innocuous things can be kept from me. But… it would be best if they don’t affect our relationship.”

Lu Feiran realized that the peace of the last few days had only put both of them on high alert. It was the calm before a storm, and they were both terrified of uncontrollable things happening.

Lance was afraid, but he was also trying hard to maintain his composure and act as if nothing was wrong.

“It’s nothing,” Lu Feiran smiled, gently reassuring him.

As night fell, snow began to drift over the city. At first, it was light, melting before it hit the ground. But two days later, the flakes grew heavier. The forecast showed snow until New Year’s Day.

Flying snow and New Year’s Eve—a perfect fit.

At 1:00 PM on the 31st, outside the high-roofed airport terminal, snow fell relentlessly. The sky was overcast, hinting at heavier snow to come.

Lu Feiran stood by the massive glass window, nervously checking the flight status on his phone, worried about delays or cancellations.

Finally, the announcement for his flight to begin boarding sounded. Lu Feiran stood up, gripped the handle of his suitcase, and realized his palm was slick with sweat.

First class boarded first. Lu Feiran sat in his seat, never opening the unread messages on his phone, and simply powered it off.

He rested his forehead against the window, intending to sleep through the long eleven-hour flight.

The plane took off smoothly amidst the falling snow. Lance had already set the timer for the cake in the oven. The design draft for the cream piping still needed a few final touches.

He calculated the time, aiming to finish the final design just before the oven timer dinged. He put on his apron again, donned oven mitts, took out the cake base, and set it aside to cool.

But the messages he sent to Lu Feiran received no reply.

Lance had consulted with Cheng Ming, who had said that constantly checking surveillance for Lu Feiran’s status was a symptom of his anxiety and a manifestation of his deep insecurity. He should fight the anxiety and stop checking the feeds constantly.

Lance didn’t want his anxiety to transfer to Lu Feiran. That would stress him out, which was detrimental to their relationship’s development.

Besides, Lu Feiran didn’t like it.

No normal person liked being constantly watched. Though Lu Feiran hadn’t fiercely accused him, Lance understood.

Since things were looking up, he should check the surveillance less.

The cake base cooled, and Lance still hadn’t opened the surveillance app.

Of course, he didn’t know that Lu Feiran hadn’t been in the office all afternoon.

Call after call went unanswered. Mid-way through piping, the piping bag suddenly burst, splattering pale blue cream all over the table.

Lance had lost control of his strength and squeezed the piping bag too hard.

He wiped the cream that had splattered onto the corner of his lip, his gaze lowered, with strange, surging waves roiling in his pupils.

The sweet taste of cream lingered on his lips, but the frost on his face was terrifyingly cold, as if frozen for a thousand years.

The surveillance app was opened. The company gates, the office, the private elevator, the parking lot, the gates of Lu Yuanyuan, outside the floor-to-ceiling windows… Lu Feiran’s shadow was nowhere to be seen in any frame.

Veins bulged on the back of Lance’s hand. He immediately ordered a query for all of Lu Feiran’s travel information.

A series of messages were quickly sent to his phone.

The direct flight to Paris at 2:00 PM today had already taken off. The scheduled landing time was 11:30 PM Beijing time.

Lance instantly booked a ticket for the earliest possible flight, regardless of the airline or class, as long as it could get him aboard.

Night fell. The sky became a dreary, grey curtain, dark and lonely beneath the cover of the clouds.

New Year’s Eve was exceptionally lively. Young people flooded the streets, and the city center was heavily congested. A huge countdown clock displayed on the big screen atop a shopping mall. The area was filled with laughter and festive joy.

Lance’s face was darker than the twilight. He was stuck in traffic, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a pale, cold color. His face was equally pale and tight. Head bowed slightly, his brow bone pressed down over his eyes, giving off an overwhelming sense of oppression.

He was fighting desperately to maintain control, but his temples were throbbing fiercely, like a needle piercing his brain. Lance pressed his forehead, barely able to think.

The intense despair made him want to vomit.

He tore open his collar, loosening his tie, parked the car on the side of the road, left the keys, and walked through the increasing snow toward his apartment.

His nerves were taut. His eyes were practically shooting sparks. Though his feet were on the ground, the world spun.

Back at the apartment, he burst into the studio, opened his 16 large screens, and repeatedly played back the local storage records.

Lu Feiran had not returned since getting into Zhou Zihua’s car at noon.

His constantly trembling hand opened a cabinet door. A mountain of pill bottles fell to the floor, rolling at his feet.

He opened a bottle, crushing the plastic body in his grip, and dryly shoved the white oval pills he grabbed into his mouth.

Half a minute later, he clawed the pills back out of his throat.

He absolutely couldn’t take them. He couldn’t accept any side effects.

Dropping the pills, Lance smiled sarcastically. A poorly executed, flawed trick had actually fooled him.

Because he had consistently forced himself to trust Lu Feiran.

If this was Lu Feiran’s revenge, he accepted it. Discovering he had been cruelly deceived at his happiest moment was certainly a pleasant sensation—like a knife slicing through his heart.

But today’s result told him that his efforts were insignificant. Like a grain of dust, he couldn’t even cling to the sole of Lu Feiran’s shoe.

Love requires trust, not being worried and paranoid… In Lu Feiran’s eyes, he was not even worth as much as a dog named “Baby.”

Then he would no longer offer his trust.

…

Zhou Zihua was worried about Lu Feiran’s dog. With its dad gone, would some pervert catch it to vent his anger?

Don’t foreigners all oppose eating companion animals? It should be fine, right…

Zhou Zihua waited and waited near Lu Yuanyuan, peering through the metal gate repeatedly. The entire house was dark.

But he was cautious. He didn’t enter immediately. He waited a bit longer. Close to midnight, he confirmed it was safe and entered the gate code.

After a ‘beep,’ Zhou Zihua stepped inside. The moment he crossed the threshold, a dog barked nearby, seemingly unwelcoming of the unexpected visitor.

Zhou Zihua crouched down and called the puppy over. “You must be Little Baby Lu. You’re staying with me this month. Your dad went to France. Wait for him to come back and get you!”

The little Bernese Mountain Dog stopped wagging its tail. It had never seen Zhou Zihua and was highly alert. It stood its ground, issuing a growling warning from its throat—which had little deterrent effect.

“You little brat! I’m your uncle! Did you already mistake the enemy for your father!”

Zhou Zihua took a step forward, extending his hand towards the puppy.

The puppy retreated a few steps, barked twice, and walked toward a nearby corner.

Click. Zhou Zihua heard the sound of a lighter, followed by a smell of tobacco wrapped in a mint scent. He knelt on the ground, his body frozen. He slowly raised his head and saw the glow of a cigarette in the darkness.

The cigarette was pinched between long, defined fingers. Zhou Zihua immediately dropped his gaze, fell backward, and sat on the floor.

Lance grabbed the little Bernese Mountain Dog by the scruff of its neck and lifted it into his arms.

“Am I a ‘thief’ in his eyes?”

His tone was level, yet Zhou Zihua found it incredibly terrifying. He dared not look up into Lance’s eyes.

He wiped his face, thinking: I should have never come.

Lance said, “It was my oversight. I gave him the chance to run away. As for you, you won’t need to see him anymore.”

Lance walked past Zhou Zihua, holding the dog with cold indifference.

Zhou Zihua shivered and tried desperately to mediate the conflict: “No, he just went abroad to relax. Don’t misunderstand.”

“It seems being around me suffocates him,” Lance said, crushing the cigarette and throwing it onto Zhou Zihua.

“But I can’t live without him. He likes France, doesn’t he? Fine, going abroad is even more convenient. He won’t have to come back anymore.”

Lance tossed the final chilling remark and pushed the door open, his retreating figure looking desolate.

Zhou Zihua was extremely nervous. He took out his phone to send Lu Feiran a message to tell on Lance, but Lu Feiran hadn’t even landed yet, so he couldn’t check his phone.

And even if he could check his phone, what good would it do?

His husband is following him like a ghost!

Zhou Zihua shook his head, recovered himself, stood up, dusted off his behind, and looked up to see a two-layered cake on the distant dining table.

It was warm inside. The cream on the cake had dissolved in the room temperature, turning into a sticky, milky mess that flowed onto the table.

…

Two hours later, Lu Feiran emerged onto the Champs-Élysées. The lights were dazzling, and people thronged the area. He took a deep breath, sighed it out, pulled his scarf tight, and stretched.

It was 6:30 PM, French time. It was already past midnight in China, and he could still experience the New Year’s Eve atmosphere in Paris.

He found a relatively less crowded restaurant, ordered some food casually, paid by card, and sat near the entrance, waiting for time to pass.

He still hadn’t turned on his phone because he didn’t dare.

He immersed himself in the lively, foreign New Year’s Eve atmosphere, digging into a small cake he had just bought. After one bite, his face scrunched up.

How could it be this sweet!

He pushed the cake aside and, out of boredom, started conversing with tourists around him in English, talking about trivial matters, finally managing to pass the long wait.

After everyone completed the countdown, fireworks exploded high in the sky. The bright light illuminated his face, and he broke into a completely relaxed smile, muttering to himself:

“Happy birthday, Lu Feiran.”

The crowds didn’t fully disperse after midnight, but the police gradually left, and young people and illegals began causing trouble. Lu Feiran turned and left.

After walking for a distance, Lu Feiran realized he had taken a wrong turn. He walked further and further into a deserted area, and strange people began staring at him from the roadside.

Late at night, alone, an Asian face with refined features, and an obviously slender build—like a lamb stumbling into a wolf pack.

Lu Feiran’s heart tightened. He started to turn back.

Suddenly, rapid footsteps approached. Someone grabbed the bag slung over his shoulder and ran.

His passport was in there. He absolutely couldn’t lose it!

Lu Feiran desperately yanked the strap. His phone fell to the ground and was snatched by another person.

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over! This was the only thought in Lu Feiran’s mind. He couldn’t lose his passport, or he’d be in serious trouble!

The mugger had a full beard and a strong build. The tug on the strap made Lu Feiran feel like a kite flapping in the wind.

The man yanked the bag against a nearby wall. Lu Feiran was carried by the momentum and slammed into the wall. The back of his hand scraped against the rough surface, tearing off a layer of skin.

Wincing in pain, he instinctively let go. The mugger quickly vanished from sight.