"You're married? You don't seem very old." The man asked with a hint of surprise, and then realized it wasn't very polite. "Sorry, I was just a bit surprised."
The stewardess left after delivering the juice.
Polly Sutton looked at the cup of greenish juice in front of her, the implication couldn't be more obvious.
Is this person too deep in character?
A couple heading for divorce, with no feelings, trying to create a scene of catching infidelity here?
Not long after the juice was delivered, Andrew Lindsey came over.
Andrew bent slightly and whispered without disturbing others, "One month of milk tea, or will you go back?"
He really didn't want to sit next to the big boss any longer; that expression seemed to be ready to throw him off the plane anytime.
Listening to Andrew's words, Polly Sutton replied, "Flavor my choice?"
Andrew nodded, "You order, I pay."
"Including for my senior and senior brother?"
"Sure."
"Deal." Polly Sutton smiled, tidying up her things. When she stood up to leave, she intentionally took the greenish juice with her, "Can't waste the good intention of your President Parker's."
Andrew smiled elegantly and made way for Polly Sutton; this was their marital problem, all he wanted was to get his seat back.
Polly Sutton leisurely returned to first class, where Victor Parker was talking to Isabella Lowe across the aisle, she went up and placed the juice on the table in front of Victor Parker. "No need to thank me."
Victor Parker looked at the woman who had just entered his view. "What did Andrew give you in exchange?"
For her to return so willingly, he wouldn't believe it without some benefit.
After sitting down, Polly Sutton finally stretched out, indeed, money brings comfort.
"A month of milk tea." Polly Sutton stretched lazily, her mood visibly good.
Victor Parker: "..."
A month of milk tea could bring such happiness; the thirty million he offered hadn't seen her this happy.
"Is that all you're excited about?"
Polly Sutton's face immediately became disdainful, "You wouldn't understand the wonder of milk tea because you don't work overtime."
"Coffee is more wonderful."
"That's the consumption for the rich, don't flaunt your wealth in front of the less fortunate."
"That's a matter of taste, not about money."
"Are you implying that you're looking down on milk tea? Does drinking coffee make you superior?"
The two argued back and forth over a trivial matter, and Isabella Lowe sitting across the aisle listened to their conversation clearly. She knew Polly Sutton was bored, but didn't expect Victor to accompany her boredom.
At least, these words were something Victor had never said before.
As the conversation continued, Polly's voice grew smaller, eventually mumbling, nodding off like a chick pecking at rice.
Victor grabbed a blanket from the stewardess and covered her, leaning in close enough to hear her muttering.
"Milk tea is the best."
Victor: "..."
Victor's mouth unconsciously curled up, but quickly returned to normal after he covered her with the blanket.
"You've changed so much, you're not like yourself anymore." Isabella Lowe spoke to Victor.
"No one really changes; it's just that you discover your understanding isn't as broad as you thought." Victor began slowly, "And then convert that lack of understanding into believing others have changed. To put it simply, it's just a self-serving way of thinking."
Isabella laughed softly, "You're right, realizing things aren't as we understand them is because of our lack of understanding, not others' fault. I've learned something."
Victor resumed looking at the document he'd been reading, while Isabella glanced at a sleeping Polly Sutton. "If that girl from the Rook Family were still alive..."
"I never make assumptions because they hold no meaning." Victor finished, looking up at Isabella. "The deceased rest in peace, and the living shouldn't disturb the dead."
Isabella froze, her tone steady without waves, yet the implication was a soft reproach.
"I was presumptuous."
Victor continued reading the document; the Rook Family's daughter was often mentioned by his mom. His impressions of her as a baby were vague, just remembering she was a plump little bundle, with most memories coming from years of people repeatedly bringing up the verbal agreement from back then.
Thinking this, Victor glanced at Polly who was sleeping like a little piglet. If that girl were alive, she'd be around her age.
Isabella noticed Victor looking again at Polly and not averting his gaze, silently clenching her fists.
When Polly woke, the sky outside had darkened, but the plane was still in the air. She stretched, accidentally touching Victor beside her.
The lights in first class were off, and everyone around was asleep.
Turning to look at the sleeping Victor, Polly noticed he slept in a neat manner, much like little Benny, finally finding Benny's inherited genes.
Although Benny and Tommy were still young with chubby cheeks, their brows and eyes strongly resembled Victor. It seemed likely they'd look like him when grown up.
When Benny and Tommy turn eighteen, she'd be thirty-eight, walking with two sons on the street could make others think they were siblings, either sisters or brothers, a delightful feeling.
Supporting her chin, Polly looked at Victor, her thoughts led to a smile.
"Have you seen enough?" Victor suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, yet carrying a playful tone.
"Who's looking at you?" Polly retorted softly, defending herself confidently, she was thinking about her sons, not him.
As Polly turned away, Victor pulled her against his chest. "If you want to watch, do it openly, no need to sneak a peek."
Polly: "..."
"If looks could kill, you'd be dead by now, I'm not looking at you." Polly pushed at his chest trying to sit up, but the heavy grip kept her pressed down.
Victor was awake when she woke up, just resting his eyes, wanting to see what she'd do.
Unexpectedly, she was staring dazed at him, eventually smiling.
What was she thinking?
That little dumpling perhaps?
"Polly Sutton, I'll ask you again, are you hiding something from me?"
Unable to break free, Polly leaned against his chest, hearing that familiar question again.
"There are loads of things you don't know about me, all considered secrets, but wouldn't that make your face too large?" Polly scoffed, "Let go of me, hurry up."
"Polly Sutton, there won't be a fourth time." He had given her three chances already, it was her choice not to take it. Victor pushed her away, adjusting his seat with a noticeably colder tone.
Polly didn't understand, feeling a bit uneasy. What did he mean by that?