Mrs. York playfully swatted Tyrone's hand away, "Even if it's to say thanks, I should be the one going. Why are you sticking your nose in?"

Tyrone stood up, straightening his jacket, "Isn't there an old saying, 'A son inherits his mother's debts'? If you owe someone a favor, then it's up to me to repay it. Between you and me, mom, there's no need for formalities. Let's go."

Mrs. York watched how Tyrone, having entered the house with a face of dejection, left home with a bounce in his step.

She couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head, "That cheeky boy."

Wilma, having overheard it, couldn't resist asking, "Ma'am, I thought you never liked Ms. Young. What changed?"

Mrs. York, with an eyebrow raised, snatched a piece of jewelry that Wilma was holding, "Who said anything about liking her now?"

Tyrone felt that the weight of several days' worth of frustration begin to lift off his shoulders.

He wanted to see Quintessa, but her parting words weighed heavily on him, making him uncomfortable at the thought of seeking her out just for a physical rendezvous.

Indeed, Tyrone didn't want it to be like that. Yes, he had once dreamed of waking up next to Quintessa, but now that the opportunity was here, he didn't want to pursue it in that manner.

possibly uncover a more painful truth if he figured it out. But not seeing her was torture; Being

time by solving a big

saved up all her previous missteps and made up for them in one grand

James, "Get

of gift are you looking

gift! Why

who is it for? What do

out with Franklin." Tyrone hung

the mall for a while, Tyrone bought a gift and headed to the Requiem set, only to find out...

to FindNovel.net

cautiously asked, "Mr. York,

jaw, feeling irritated. Was this

told me. I'm an investor in this project. Can't I check on the

course, you can," Reuben

stay a moment longer.

leave, Reuben called out,

beautifully wrapped gift; scoffing, he tossed it to the back

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