Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime-Chapter 859 - Daddy_1
Chapter 859: Chapter 859 Daddy_1
She didn’t want to cry.
Today was her good day. She had won the lawsuit, obtained the identity of the president’s daughter, and simultaneously gained fame and power. She had accomplished a great feat and should have been happy.
But she simply couldn’t help it.
Christopher Simonson had meticulously prepared for today’s banquet. Purple Summers didn’t want to let Christopher feel disappointed, so she excused herself to the restroom and hurried away.
Leaning on the snowflake-patterned ceramic basin, she silently shed tears.
She thought a brief moment of release would make her feel better, yet the tears seemed endless. Her sorrowful emotions gradually spiraled out of control as she remembered Alexander carrying her on his shoulder to pick that pomegranate from the tree, recalled how Alexander had stuffed half a candied hawthorn into her mouth amidst the snowy landscape, and thought of the time she traveled north to take her exams, emerging from the train station to find Alexander standing in the warm sunlight of the gentle sunset…
The more she thought, the tighter her heart squeezed, as if it was about to break.
“Ah…” Unable to suppress the pain, a cry spilled from her throat. She leaned on the basin and slowly squatted down, hugging herself and allowing the tears to flow unabated.
Even though she was convinced he was still alive.
Even though… she believed they would eventually be reunited, the agony of parting was unspeakable, tormenting and torturing her heart back and forth, practically taking her life.
Purple didn’t know how long she had cried. After calming her mind, her legs had gone numb, and she couldn’t stand up.
She stayed in the restroom for a long time.
When she came out, aside from a slight redness around her eyes, no other signs of her earlier state could be detected.
She washed her face, redid her makeup, and when she returned to the banquet hall, the party was coming to an end.
She, like a noble lady born into high society, gracefully saw off the guests as they took their leave one after another.
Tonight, she was the center of attention, showered with praise and compliments. Such adoration could easily make one heady, but Purple’s gaze remained serene and tranquil, her composure undisturbed.
The next day, Christopher Simonson and Caitlin Carter accompanied Purple to the airport.
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This was what they had agreed upon; even though her identity was Purple Summers Simonson, she could still choose to live with her foster mother, Atra Blanc.
Christopher was worried she would feel slighted, so he arranged for a driver, bodyguard, attendants, and a steward, totaling twenty-eight people to accompany her to Clearwater, at her disposal.
Purple was somewhat moved.
She didn’t lack money; what she lacked were people she could utilize.
Purple gently hugged Christopher. After a moment of silence, she said, “Thank you, Dad.”
Christopher’s heart shook.
He had never dared to hope that Purple would call him by that title. He had only wanted to compensate as much as he could, but in the end, he still received something.
Christopher’s calm and handsome face tightened with unnamed emotions.
Feeling a dryness in his throat, he said nothing, simply and gently touched Purple’s head.
Purple boarded the private jet arranged by the Presidential Palace. As she was about to enter the cabin, she turned back for a look and saw Christopher Simonson and Caitlin Carter standing side by side in the distance. She suddenly understood why people often say a father’s love is as steadfast as a mountain.
Those feelings are silent on ordinary days, but no matter how far you go, as long as you turn back and see the towering mountain behind you, you know he is always there, solid, weighty, reliable.
…
After disembarking from the plane, Purple called Atra to tell her she had returned.
Atra was tremendously surprised. She had always wanted to call Purple to ask when she would return, but felt awkward because of her identity. Now that Purple had finally reunited with her family, Atra, as a foster mother, would seem too imposing if she kept calling and urging every couple of days.
Atra had even thought that maybe Purple would never come back from Kingsley.
She couldn’t bear to think about it; just the thought was unbearably sad.
Thankfully, Purple had finally returned.
Atra had prepared a full table of dishes, all of Purple’s favorites, then anxiously paced back and forth at the door, occasionally casting glances towards the outer courtyard gate.
Finally seeing Purple’s figure, Atra’s eyes reddened instantly, “How did you get so thin!”
