Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister

"When I woke up amid the fire, I found that Laura had disappeared, so I searched the entire warehouse but failed to find her."

Horace continued to say in a low voice, "She was gone, and the rope had been untied, so I thought that she had left first or taken away after she untied my hands. So I left. Then the police told me that it's impossible."

"How did they mean?"

"Because found the scorched body of her on the scene, and she was still tied. The DNA test showed that it was her. Plus, they found a blade on the floor, which was probably used to cut off my rope, and there was a cut on my hand."

Clara was shocked.

Indeed, everything at the scene suggested that Horace had freed himself with the blade and left alone, abandoning Laura.

But that was not how Horace remembered it.

Theoretically, the biggest possibility was that he had lied to cover up his ruthless behavior.

"So, that's what happened," said Horace slowly, looking up to Clara, "Which version do you believe? Mine or theirs?"

The unexpected question had her frozen.

Looking into his mysterious eyes, from which she seemed to have seen some vague expectation.

Clara's eyes glinted with a bit sadness, when she said softly, "I believe you."

With a blink of his eyes, Horace lifted the corners of his mouth. "I'm so happy to hear you say that, whether you mean it or not."

With that he looked away when Clara got down before him and grabbed his hand, looking right into his eyes.

"I mean it," said Clara earnestly, "Just like when you chose to believe me, I believe you. However compelling was the proof, I only believe in what you say." Every single word Clara had sincerely said was engraved in Horace heart.

His heart was slightly struck, and subconsciously, he tightened his grasp of her hand.

For all these years, even his grandfather, who had been there with him since forever, had never really believed him.

Although he never cared about how people thought of him, he did care about how she did.

If Clara, as everybody else did, had thought that he had abandoned the woman he liked, he might feel hurt.

But she said she believed him.

He felt touched inside as he watched her blight eyes. Meanwhile, he couldn't help but laugh bitterly, "But you know what, sometimes even I don't believe myself." Clara was confused, "What do you mean?"

"Ten years ago, when they were investigating the case, I had gone through hypnosis and other therapies. All the experts said I wasn't lying, but a psychologist said it was likely that because I had been drugged in the abduction, and been so traumatized that my memory went wrong. That means I forgot cutting the rope with the blade and leaving Laura behind. It's likely that I made up the memory because of my fear of facing the mistake I had made."

Clara went blank, and blurted out, "How is that possible?"

The Horace she had known was undoubtedly strong, so how was it possible that he had deceived himself to escape from the truth?

"Yeah, I don't go with that either." Horace's smile was crooked into a bitterer way, as he reached out his hand to touch Clara's face, whispering, "But I was indeed kind of scared, and I wasn't mature enough back then."

Clara went silent.

Sure.

She almost forgot that Darren was not who she had known him to be ten years before, when he had been just a kid. How much terror must that terrifying kidnapping have inflicted on Horace back then? But she soon came out of her pondering and gripped his hand, and said resolutely, "Whether it was ten years ago or now, I believe you have never done that and will never do."

There was no hesitation in her tone, which seemed to carry some kind of power. Horace looked at her and smiled.

"You're so silly, Clara," he said in an affectionate tone that was strange to himself, as he held out his hands to cover her little face. "You believe people so easily. You'd better be careful not to be cheated." "You won't do that to me," said Clara automatically, but gave him another look before she confirmed again.

"Will you?"

Horace cocked his lips upper, as he bent over to kiss her on the brow.

That was a feather-light kiss, brushing down the brow, against the nose tip and then on the lip.

"I'll never deceive you, Clara," he whispered after the kiss, "But you've got to promise me that you'll be more careful."

Feeling dizzy after the tantalizing kiss, Clara restored her soberness on hearing the latter part of his words and raised her head. "Careful?" "Yeah." Horace's eyes became dull as he stared at Clara, "You have no idea how frightened I was when our house was on fire the other day."

Clara was shocked.

That was the first time she had ever heard him saying "frightened" of something since they had met.

Was it because he worried about her?

"Fire," Horace added in a low voice, looking at Clara, "has taken the woman I loved from me once. I don't want it to happen again." Clara heard a bang inside her head, looking at Horace in disbelief and astonishment.

Woman he liked?

Again?

What did he mean?

Horace's words were very straightforward, but Clara simply felt like she was in a fantasy right now, so she dared not think or ask further.

So she looked at Horace numbly with wide-opened eyes, her mouth as round as that of a little golden fish out of water.

Her look was so funny that it amused Horace and made him giggle.

Clara then came back to herself and soon shut her mouth, getting up.

But to her surprise, just when she was rising, Horace suddenly gripped her by her hand and pulled her hard into his arms.

She fell right onto his lap, and before she could exclaim, Horace pinched her chin, and seized her lips with his, swallowing down all her upcoming exclamation.