Chapter 1969
She never told Alaric her birthday, did she? And Alaric never celebrated it with her either.
So, how on earth did he know her birthday?
Wait, that's not even the main issue. The real question is, why would he use her birthday as his phone's passcode?
This guy must be nuts!
Hertha was flabbergasted as she scrolled through the call log, her eyes nearly popping out when she saw the top entry-a junkyard!
No way!
The number Alaric had called was for a junkyard!
Was he planning to sell her car as scrap?
"What's with the bug eyes? You'd think you stumbled upon some earth-shattering news," Alaric quipped as he leaned in closer, just as Hertha was reeling from her discovery.
Snapping back to reality, Hertha lifted her phone to chuck it at him, each word seething through clenched teeth, "Alaric, are you freaking out of your mind?!"
Quick as a flash, Alaric caught the incoming phone, thankful it smashed into his palm and not his face. Had he not anticipated her throw, he'd be nursing a facial injury by now.
Alaric couldn't help but chuckle, "Could you maybe aim somewhere other than the face next time? I mean, come on, this handsome mug of mine isn't easily replaceable."
"It's exactly your face I was aiming for! Alaric, don't think just because you're good-looking, you can do whatever you please! Not only do you bail after hooking up, now you're trying to sell my car! What does my car have to do with you, huh?"
Hertha was fuming, her chest heaving with anger as she confronted him.
"I never said I wouldn't take responsibility. But you're the one pushing me away," Alaric retorted with an innocent shrug.
Hertha was livid, steam practically coming out of her ears, "Can you not be such a jerk for once? I'm talking about my car here!"
"But you brought up the hookup," Alaric pointed out, touching his nose as if he was making a valid point.
Hertha felt a surge of frustration, stuck in her throat, unable to vent or swallow. She was on the verge of exploding!
This guy, discussing such matters in public without a shred of shame!
He might not care about his reputation, but she did.
Cautiously glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, Hertha's anger subsided a bit. She moved closer to Alaric, teeth gritted, "Shut up! Call them back and tell them not to come for the scrap!"
"Why? They're probably halfway here by now," Alaric replied, puzzled, indicating it was too late to call them off now.
"That's my car, what right do you have to sell it?" Hertha spat out angrily.
"Look, your car was due for a
change. Three years ago, I
rear-ended you, and it got a major overhaul Then, you had that
accident, smashing it up pretty
good And now, you've rear-ended someone else, the front's all Banged up, and it won't even start. Is it even worth fixing?"
Alaric tried to reason with her.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
"I don't care, I love fixing it up, it's none of your business!" Hertha snapped, her breaths coming in hot.
"Okay, okay, calm down. If there's nothing pressing at Royal Estates, how about we go car shopping?" Alaric said, wrapping his arm around Hertha's shoulder, steering her away.
"Car shopping for what?" Hertha was still not over it, and Alaric, unapologetically acting as if it were all settled, was not making it any better.
She tried to shrug off Alaric's arm, but he clung to her, refusing to let go.
"Let's pick out a new car for you. Whatever catches your eye, I'll buy it for your Consider it making up for selling your old one," Alaric explained, planning to surprise Hertha with a new car today.