Mysterious Mrs. Pansy

Florence found herself in a bewildering situation. With a pasted charming smile, she cooed, “Yes, I’m Candy, Patrick. I’m your Candy.”

Patrick’s head was spinning, and his mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Was she really Candy? He’d spent years searching for her, and now she appeared out of the blue. “Are you Candy? Is it really you?” he stammered, leaning on Florence for support.

With a voice heavy with disbelief and astonishment, he expressed his shock at her sudden reappearance. “Yes, it’s me,” Florence replied, trying to convince him.

But to Patrick, something felt amiss. The woman in front of him, claiming to be Candy, didn’t stir the electrifying sensation he’d always experienced around Candy. “Candy, why have you changed?” he inquired.

Florence’s heart quivered, and she quickly withdrew her hand, afraid that he would realize she wasn’t the real Candy. She tried to assist Patrick back to the base of the mountain.

“Come and help me,” she called out to Erica and the driver, who quickly emerged from the car to lend a hand.

The driver hesitated for a moment and asked, “Should I drive Mr. Pansy home?”

An irritated Florence shot him a glare. “We are going to my place, of course. I’ve worked hard to get this close to Patrick today. I’m not wasting this opportunity.”

With that, the driver turned the car around, and they headed to Florence’s house.

As the car sped along, Patrick, now more approachable in his drunken state, muttered, “Candy, Candy…” Florence held his hand, whispering, “I’m here, Candy, don’t leave me.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Jane couldn’t help but worry about Patrick. It was already ten o’clock, and he hadn’t called her to go home. She took a taxi back to Water Moon Community, but Patrick was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated by his absence, Jane contemplated whether his absence was related to her earlier request for him not to interfere in her affairs. She wasn’t happy with his interference, and now she wondered if he was upset with her.

She decided to check on her business progress, and Nana quickly informed her that everything was going well. Jane then made some revisions to a dress design on her computer.

When it was already one in the morning, Jane realized that Patrick hadn’t returned, which was unusual. Even if he had business to attend to, he would usually call or send a text. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something might have happened to him. Concerned, she dialed his number.

With Florence’s help, Patrick had finally made it to his bed. She helped him remove his coat while he was only wearing a white shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing his muscular chest.

As he mumbled about Candy, Florence found herself captivated by his appearance. Patrick had always been indifferent to her, but now she had a chance to get close to him, even if it was due to his intoxication.

She couldn’t resist and extended her hand to stroke his face. As she touched him, she expressed her love for him. “Patrick, do you know how much I love you?”

In his drunken stupor, Patrick felt a woman in his arms expressing love for him, but the feeling was unfamiliar and lacked the electrifying sensation he had felt with Candy.

Suddenly, Patrick pushed her away, realizing she was not Candy. Florence fell to the floor, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, saying, “Patrick, you’re drunk. I’m Candy. I am Candy!”

The word “Candy” echoed in his mind. No, she was not Candy. Patrick’s head was throbbing, and he struggled to get to his feet. Florence’s world was crashing down. She had yearned for this moment for so long, yet Patrick refused her even when he was intoxicated.

Just as she was wrestling with her feelings of rejection, Patrick’s phone rang. It was Jane calling, and Florence answered the phone with a sneer. She asked provocatively, “Hello, who is this?”