Chapter 276

I considered showing Reynaldo the photos I’d taken; it might impress him and improve his mood. However, opening my phone shocked me. Seven missed calls from Reynaldo filled the screen. Oh my God! He’d called seven times in a short period, and I hadn’t answered a single one! No wonder he was angry.

“Reynaldo…” I called out, quickening my pace to catch him. This time, I really needed to coax him. If I'd made seven unanswered calls in ten minutes, I'd be furious too. He was probably even angrier. He couldn't be blamed for losing his temper.

The Ice Palace was crowded. I didn't dare run, afraid of bumping into people. I didn't see him at the end of the road.

Oh no, had he left? I stood at the crossroads, looking around in confusion. After a while, I found him. He stood three meters away, his eyes cold and fixed on me. He’d seen me searching but deliberately remained silent.

I pursed my lips, walking toward him. “Reynaldo, here’s your milk tea.” I handed it to him.

He didn’t reply, saying lightly, “I don’t feel like drinking now. You can handle it yourself.”

I… The man was clearly still angry. I hung my head, explaining softly, “I’m sorry. The exhibition hall was too crowded and noisy; I didn’t hear my phone.”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to ignore your calls.” I had never apologized so sincerely before. I wondered if my sincere apology would improve his expression. I cautiously lifted my head and glanced at him. He was still frowning, his face dark and gloomy, his anger undiminished. This man wasn’t easily appeased.

Reynaldo didn’t speak to me after leaving the Ice Palace. Darkness had fallen. He walked ahead, and I jogged behind, afraid of losing him. Instead of going to the parking lot, he went to a nearby restaurant.

I followed him inside and sat by the window. The waiter enthusiastically offered the menu; Reynaldo just threw it at me without a word. I pursed my lips, opened the menu, and asked, “Mr. Humphrey, what kind of dishes do you like?”

My question inexplicably darkened his face. He said resentfully, “After all these years, have you ever known even a little bit about my preferences? Just a tiny bit?”

I looked at him, inexplicably. “So you don’t know my preferences either?”

“I…” He stopped, turning away with resentment. I stared at him in silence.

I was frustrated. His temper was becoming increasingly inexplicable. I ordered a few simple dishes. Looking up, I saw him leaning back in his chair, staring out the window without blinking. His profile, besides anger, held a hint of sadness.