Mr. Marsh’s Twins

Another boy called her Bubu? Andrew was slightly taken aback; he thought it was a special nickname. Agnes felt awkward hearing this, and Andrew’s heart sank as he looked at the boy holding a bouquet of roses. Was he Bubu’s boyfriend?

Agnes glared coldly at the grinning Ansel. “For the most beautiful you,” Ansel said as he shoved the flowers into her arms and grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. “Let’s go have a coffee!”

Agnes was dragged along passively, still trying to process what was happening. She glanced back at Andrew. He stood there calmly, watching everything unfold with a sense of melancholy as his heart sank further. Did she have a boyfriend? Was this boy her boyfriend?

Outside the company, Agnes stood firm and threw the roses at Ansel. “Are you out of your mind?!”

Ansel quickly caught the bouquet, looking like a child who had done something wrong. “Don’t be mad. I just can’t stand seeing others interested in you. He likes you, so I wanted to nip it in the bud!”

Agnes didn’t bother to explain that she and Andrew were just colleagues; she didn’t see the point. She took a step back to maintain distance from Ansel, glaring at him with a serious and cold expression.

She was angry.

Andrew watched the young couple from behind the glass door, then turned and walked away, feeling inexplicably downcast.

Against the wall outside, Agnes looked at Ansel with disdain. “You told me we were going to discuss some creative ideas, so I came down. And now you’re playing games?”

Ansel realized she was angry and became anxious, stepping forward to explain.

“Don’t come any closer!” Agnes raised her hand to stop him and spoke seriously. “Ansel, am I not making myself clear? Do you want me to cut ties with you?”

“Agnes, do you like that man from earlier?” Ansel asked jealously, feeling uncomfortable. “How long have I been gone? And there’s already someone else by your side!”

“You…” Agnes was speechless. “We never had anything between us! And even if we did, what does it matter to you?”

“Why won’t you admit it?” Ansel pressed on. “Admit it so I can give up!” He forced a bitter smile. “Admit it; I can handle it.”

“Fine!” Agnes met his gaze firmly.

Ansel felt like he had been struck by lightning.

Their eyes locked, and he heard his heart breaking but tried to stay composed. Agnes knew she had hurt him, which wasn’t her intention.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

In the silence of their stare-down, she calmed down too and softened her tone. “Ansel, don’t send me flowers anymore. We are still friends.”

“How about a coffee?” He changed the subject. “I want to talk.” He couldn’t let go; he genuinely liked her.

Even if she was with that man now, they weren’t married yet. Ansel felt he still had a chance.

But Agnes sensed that Ansel wasn’t in the right frame of mind to discuss creative ideas with her anymore.

So she refused, “I have things to do. You should go back.”

“Are you really angry?” Ansel suddenly felt scared. “Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry for being impulsive today and causing you stress.”

He bowed sincerely while holding the bouquet.

Agnes looked at him and said, “Okay, I forgive you this time.”

“Then let’s have coffee?”

“No, I have things to do.” With that, she turned and left.