Blind Date Turned Proposal (Josie and Dexter)

Naturally, the hotel was off-limits. Josie remained in the car, tilting her head back to gaze at the towering hotel building.

For people with Dexter's status, if something went wrong during the review, there were plenty who might consider jumping off a building. Therefore, the accommodations were always arranged on lower floors, like the third floor, to prevent any communication with the outside world.

Josie was at the back entrance of the hotel. Josie got out of the car, looked up, and counted the rooms once. Still unsure, she counted again. Only then did she pick up a small stone from the ground, and with all her might, she threw it toward the fourth room.

The sound was pleasing to the ear, yet there was no stir within. Josie was slightly winded, and bending down, she picked up a few more pebbles to throw above.

By the time the fifth pebble was tossed, the window was opened from the inside.

Josie looked up, her heart leaping into her throat, terrified that it might be a guard.

The woman was clad in a form-fitting, rose-colored gown, her long hair slightly curled. Her eyes were bright and clear, full of life. On that autumn night, she was catching her breath under the illumination of the streetlights, her face filled with anticipation.

Dexter opened the window, and that was the scene that greeted him.

At that moment, his weary, numb heart suddenly jolted. The gloom slowly dissipated, and her smiling face gradually took over his entire heart.

Only when Josie could finally make out the figure did she allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She stood by the car, instinctively wanting to call out to Dexter.

tongue. With a wave of her hand toward him,

allowing her to get a

how to convey her thoughts. She pointed to her clothes, implying that she had seen the

frame. He nodded slightly, indicating that

It suited her well.

make out his face, but it remained indistinct. All that was discernible was his poorly concealed exhaustion and pain. She

was cold, causing fog to form on the car window glass. Josie turned around and carefully, letter by letter, word by word, wrote on it: The signing went smoothly. Upon seeing it, Dexter gave another nod of acknowledgment. He wasn't

momentarily before writing: Are you

Dexter's expression remained calm,

storm within him that was hard to discern. He suppressed the lump of emotion welling up in his throat and

truly didn't know what

the chirping of cicadas

then wrote: When will

his head, leaving it unclear whether he didn't know or simply couldn't

pointing at the moon, then made

understood. What he meant was that it was too late, and he

words she had just written