Just as I was about to lean on his support and hop on one leg, the next second, I was swept up in a pair of strong arms. He held me in a princess carry, one arm supporting me effortlessly while the other held an umbrella over us.
The faint scent of sage surrounded me.
It was the first time I’d ever been carried by a man other than Charles and I could feel my face burning.
His voice resonated from his chest, steady and low, "Pardon me."
I was soaked to the bone, resembling a drowned rat, while the interior of his car was pristine and immaculately clean—luxurious in an understated way.
Yet, he didn’t show the slightest sign of discomfort as he settled me into the backseat.
He even handed me a blanket.
Embarrassed, I hesitated to take it, shrinking into myself.
"I’m completely drenched… and dirty," I murmured, my cheeks flushing.
He didn’t leave room for argument, draping the blanket over me with a firm kindness.
"What’s more valuable, a blanket or a person?"
Having spent three years with Charles, I’d learned to discern someone’s family background through their outward appearances.
The black shirt he wore, I recognized—it was a brand whose lowest tier cost at least fifty thousand yuan.
Clearly, he came from a family of wealth and influence. Yet, unlike Charles and his crowd, there wasn’t a hint of arrogance or disdain for ordinary people in him.
He even thoughtfully adjusted the car’s temperature to make it warmer.
As we approached the city, I realized he wasn’t heading toward my neighborhood. Instead, he stopped at a hospital.
What kind of upbringing produces a man like this?
He carried me into the emergency room.
When the doctor used tweezers to remove the glass shards embedded in my foot, he covered my eyes with his hand.
And, as if performing a magic trick, he produced a cup of hot milk for me.
Even the nurse couldn’t help but tease, "Miss, your boyfriend is so attentive! With someone like him, you’re bound to be happy."
Blushing, I quickly corrected him, "He’s not my boyfriend."
The nurse nodded knowingly—or so I thought—before flashing a thumbs-up at him behind my back.
"Good luck!" she mouthed to him.
I rubbed my temples and gave up on explaining.
By the time we reached my apartment complex, it was already past 11 p.m.
His car stopped just outside.
Feeling awkward, I realized I had nothing to repay him with.
"Thank you so much for tonight. If possible, could we exchange contact information? I’d like to properly thank you later."
His voice, deep and soothing, replied, "That’s not necessary. Just don’t let yourself get into such a pitiful state again. People are what matter most; everything else is secondary."
On this stormy night, when everyone else had turned a cold shoulder to me—including the man I loved—this stranger gave me a warmth.
Of course, he would deeply regret refusing to exchange contact information a year later.
When I opened the door to my apartment, the lights were bright, illuminating every corner.
Charles sat lazily on the sofa, his expression unreadable.
But when he saw me limping inside, my dress filthy and tattered, there was a flicker of emotion on his face.
"Why are you such a mess?" he asked, standing as if to help me.
I sidestepped him, avoiding his touch.
"I’m tired. I just want to take a shower."
I could feel his gaze on me as I moved. To him, I was like a pet—a stray dog that had wandered out into a storm and returned home for punishment.
It had been a dark, stormy night, yet he hadn’t thought to call me, let alone look for me. Instead, he had stayed here, waiting.
But this time, I was truly exhausted.
After my shower, I emerged from the bathroom to find him already lying in bed.
In the past, I would’ve climbed into his arms, finding comfort in his embrace.
But tonight, I didn’t want to.
Who knows how long that embrace had belonged to another woman earlier today?
