Chapter 704

Rachel pressed a hand to her forehead in frustration, feeling like she could drop dead then and there. Sometimes, she truly hated Tyler’s endless caution. It was exhausting just to listen to him.

“If you insist on being like this, then do as you please. But Tyler, if you go bankrupt, don’t expect me to stick around.”

At that, Tyler’s interest was instantly piqued. He raised a brow and leaned closer, a playful smile on his face.

“Well, well. Rachel has a hidden side after all. Back when William was dirt poor, you never left him, but now you’ll just walk away if I go bankrupt? Heartless little thing.”

Rachel didn’t bother defending herself.

“So you’d better make sure your company gets back on its feet.”

Tyler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He knew Rachel wasn’t the type to judge people by wealth. This was just her own roundabout way of trying to comfort him.

He noticed how much she was enjoying the pork and passed her a few more pieces.

“Eat slowly, no one’s going to steal it from you.”

Rachel was completely lost in the food. She seemed satisfied.

“This is so good. Do you want another skewer?”

“You have it. By the way, I have a friend who’s really into different styles of cursive writing. He prefers the Spencerian style, and he wants to write a letter.”

“Oh? And?” Rachel gave him a lazy glance before lowering her head again to chew on a piece of pork skewer.

“I remember your mother taught you to write in that style. Could you write a letter for him? He wants to leave something behind for his sick girlfriend.”

Rachel’s chewing slowed just slightly, though only for a moment. Inside, she was shaken. How much did Tyler know about her past? How could he even remember details this small? What secrets of hers didn’t he know?

Rachel suddenly set the pork down and stared at him seriously.

“Tyler, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like I have no privacy at all, like I’m standing in front of you with nothing on. Do you understand what I mean?”

Tyler only raised a brow slightly. “And? What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I want to have some private space of my own.”

Seeing he wasn’t taking it seriously, Rachel pursed her lips and emphasized again.

“Your mother told me about your cursive writing practice back then. Haven’t you noticed your handwriting looks almost identical to mine?”

Tyler pulled a napkin from somewhere. He wrote a few words on it.

It was her name. The writing resembled how he signed. Every person’s handwriting was different, and along with it came differences about that individual’s personality.

Tyler’s handwriting conveyed a dangerous edge that warned others from messing with him.

Rachel had never thought much of her own handwriting before. It was what it was.

Suddenly, a memory from the past hit her. Back when she was practicing cursive writing, her mother had been looking for teachers for her—one after another, but none felt right. Then, one day, her mother showed her a sample of someone else’s script. Rachel had instantly fallen in love with it and was determined to learn.

But no matter how she practiced, she couldn’t capture the essence of it. So she begged her mother to let her meet that person. Her mother, however, always said it wasn’t convenient.

Rachel remembered vividly that during that time, her curiosity about this mysterious person had reached its peak.

But all she ever got was a short passage copied out, with some tips about practicing.

Her pupils narrowed. A realization then hit her as she stared at Tyler.

“So, you were that person back then…”