You're Just My Ex-Husband,My Lord-Chapter 143-Dave, enough!
After Dave finished speaking, he went off to pick out clothes for her, leaving Laurent standing there, surveying the dressing room.
The dressing room hadn’t changed much since Laurent had left. The expensive clothes he had given her, still with their tags untouched, were hanging in the same place.
She spoke softly, her tone tinged with melancholy.
"No need. These clothes must be too loose now."
She had lost several pounds—they definitely wouldn’t fit anymore.
Dave’s fingers, which had been lingering over the clothes, suddenly froze. He turned back to look at her, his eyes filled with shock and guilt.
Laurent averted her gaze.
"I’ll go back to my room and change into something else."
After losing weight, she had bought some new clothes for herself. She remembered an old rose-colored dress, the one her mother had picked out for her when they had gone shopping together.
Her mother had insisted that it suited her and had bought it for her despite her protests.
As she turned to leave, his pained voice came from behind.
"Laurent, I’m sorry."
Her steps faltered slightly, but she didn’t look back and walked away.
When she reappeared, she was wearing the old rose-colored dress.
They say gray and pink are the perfect combination. When the two of them stood there together—
Gray was elegant, pink was delicate.
Dave was quite pleased with her outfit.
"As expected, this kind of color suits you better. That dress you were wearing earlier was far too dull and old-fashioned. You’re not old—why do you always dress like that?"
Laurent hated it when he commented on her outfits—especially when he said her previous dress looked old-fashioned. She didn’t think so. She found it elegant and actually liked it quite a bit.
So, she replied with a soft yet pointed remark:
"I was only thinking about your feelings. If I dressed too young, wouldn’t that make you look even older?"
Then, she stepped out and walked away.
Dave clenched his teeth at the word "old." He was only a few years older than her, and she dared to call him old?
With a dark expression, he followed her out the door. Laurent was waiting for the elevator when he strode up and grabbed her hand. Before she could struggle, he spoke first.
"Just getting you used to it in advance. In front of the Browns, it’s best if we hold hands."
The elevator arrived just then. He led her inside, pressing her against the wall as he leaned in, his tone laced with mischief.
"You know, French people are romantic. A passionate French kiss can happen anytime, anywhere."
As he spoke, he moved closer to her.
Laurent pressed herself against the elevator wall, glaring at him with a look that clearly warned:
Try it, and see what happens.
He was always so shameless, always finding excuses to take advantage of her.
Holding hands? French kiss? This was obviously just what *he* wanted, yet he had the audacity to blame it on the Browns.
But Dave didn’t actually kiss her. He could see the little flames of anger burning in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly before protesting,
"This isn’t fair. Back when you used to chase after me all the time, I never did anything to you. Even when I got annoyed, I still gave in to you."
"Now that the roles are reversed, can’t you at least treat me with half the patience I had for you back then?"
Laurent found herself at a loss for words.
After he finished speaking, he simply lowered his gaze and looked at her, his eyes shining like stardust.
There was sincerity, patience, and longing in his eyes.
Laurent found herself at a loss for words.
Looking back on the five years they had been together—especially in the beginning—it was true that she had been the one chasing after him.
Dave had always been a rather cold and reserved person, someone who didn’t talk much.
And back then, he hadn’t loved her. So, in their relationship, he had never been the one to take the initiative. It had always been her, always the one asking for things—asking him to kiss her, showing concern for him, taking care of him in every possible way, pestering him to spend time with her, clinging to him, demanding this and that.
Every time she clung to him, though he had been impatient, he had never truly rejected her in a cold or heartless way. Thinking back now, he had actually preserved some of her dignity—many times, he hadn’t let her embarrass herself too much.
Sigh, I shouldn’t think about this.
Laurent recalled all the times she had pestered him in the past, then looked at the way he was clinging to her now.
In that moment, she realized how true the saying was:
What goes around, comes around.
He complained about how she used to cling to him, and she had nothing to say in her defense.
Now, he used that very reason to shamelessly pester her in return, and she was powerless against it.
Seeing her speechless for so long, Dave’s smile deepened.
"Nothing to say, huh?"
Laurent rolled her eyes dramatically and raised her hand to push him away.
He’s way too close!
The weather was getting warmer, and his breath was scorching. With him standing so near, she could practically feel the heat radiating off him—she was starting to break a sweat.
No matter how hard she pushed, his tall figure remained completely unmoved. He simply continued looking at her and said,
"Back then, you told me you loved me and pestered me until I married you. Now that I’m saying I love you, shouldn’t you return the favor and marry me?"
That was the last straw for Laurent. She huffed in frustration and snapped,
"Dave, enough!"
Was he ever going to stop?
He used to be a man of few words, cold and distant—when had he become such a relentless chatterbox?
Only then did Dave finally step back from her side, moving to stand next to her, shoulder to shoulder.
"Alright, I won’t push you anymore. I just wanted to remind you—before rejecting me in the future, think about how patient and indulgent I was with you back then. A little empathy wouldn’t hurt."
Laurent was so caught off guard by his words that she couldn’t come up with a single retort. Annoyed, she turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
