I Dated My Ex's Father

Chapter 4

The rain stopped, and I waved goodbye to Mr. Thompson.

Carrying two skewers of curry fish balls, I walked into my building. Mike and Amir suddenly rushed out of nowhere.

"Where did you go? Who brought you back? Who was that man holding the umbrella for you? You left your car by the road, and your phone was off. Lina, do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Mike was completely soaked, and his eyes were frighteningly red.

I calmly stepped around him. "Who are you? Is this any of your business?"

Mike's bravado instantly deflated when he heard this.

'That's right. He's an "amnesiac" stranger now. What right does he have to care about what time I come home or who I come home with?'

He turned his face away and said in a hoarse voice, "You left my place. If anything happens to you, I'll have some explaining to do."

"Actually, I was worried about Lina, so I asked my baby to come with me."

Amir chimed in to smooth things over. She affectionately held Mike's arm, and Mike let her take his hand, but his gaze stayed fixed on me, as if he were searching for a trace of jealousy.

But I didn't even bother to look up. As I stepped into the elevator, I said, "True. After all, we're practically family now. It's good for you and my future daughter-in-law to know where I live. Your dad will probably be living with me in the future anyway."

Seeing that I wasn't angry, Mike looked dazed. He suddenly panicked and instinctively tried to follow me into the elevator, but Amir held him back just as he stepped forward.

The elevator doors slowly closed.

The girl's mischievous voice drifted in, broken and intermittent.

"Silly! She clearly brought that man here to make you jealous! If you give in now, you lose!"

"Really?" Mike's voice sounded uncertain.

"Of course! Look at you—you're soaked like a drowned puppy! Oh, silly Mike, without me, you'd really be wrapped around Lina's finger! Trust me, you need to be mean to her. Only when she regrets it will she come back and coax you like before."

"Okay. As long as it makes her love me more, I'll do whatever you say."

'What a pair of idiots. Don't they know elevator doors aren't soundproof?'

I sneered and pressed the button for the 16th floor. The first thing I did when I got inside was to delete Mike's fingerprint from the lock.

'Stupid dog.'

I had come home late because I had been busy fishing for a new dog.

After my shower, I chewed on piping hot curry fish balls and lit up my screen.

Ignoring Mike's meaningless messages, I tapped on a new friend request—

Mr. Thompson: Did you get home safely?

Lina: Just finished showering. What about you?

Mr. Thompson replied very quickly. I figured he probably hadn't left yet.

Mr. Thompson: Almost there. Get some rest. Good night.

I checked his i********:, but it was completely blank, with nothing posted.

But when I refreshed it, a screenshot of a memo suddenly popped up.

It read:

The weather is really nice today.

My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't stop thinking about that pale, handsome face. Mr. Thompson's eyes carried a touch of frost, elegant and aloof.

But when he smiled, his whole demeanor became warm and light, making people want to get closer.

I held my phone and thought for a moment, then tapped on Mike's w******p chat.

Lina: We shouldn't talk anymore. Your dad might get the wrong idea.

After sending it, I deleted his w******p cleanly and decisively.

Mike was possessive.

He also had a foul mouth.

Countless times, when I was exhausted, I sent the universe an order—'Can you please make him mute?'

A bit cruel, sure, but I had to admit that the universe had actually granted my wish.

It just wasn't quite how I had imagined it.

The next day, at a chain coffee shop.

Holding two cups of flat whites, I looked at Mr. Thompson in feigned surprise. "What a coincidence?"

I didn't ask stupid questions like "What are you doing here?"

Mr. Thompson had only suffered vocal cord damage.

He wasn't stupid.

Only a few families lived in Grand Heights. With a little digging, he would know I had left his house last night.

'Besides, I dated his dramatic son for three years, and they have the exact same face—would it be appropriate for me to pretend I don't recognize him?'

Mr. Thompson froze for a second, then nodded slightly.

The tips of his ears were a bit red. He pointed shyly at the office building next door, indicating that he worked at the Thompson Group.

I stuffed the coffee into his hand and smiled. "I know. I actually came here to find you today."

Mr. Thompson stiffened, his gaze falling on the coffee. He didn't snap out of it for a long time.

When he looked up again, his eyes had inexplicably turned red.

I froze and said without thinking, "It's a thank-you gift for last night."

The moment the words left my mouth, the light in Mr. Thompson's eyes dimmed again.

He smiled and shook his head silently.

My chest suddenly tightened. I felt as though something had gone wrong, but my long-standing social habits made me quickly suppress that bitterness. I smiled at my prey. "Do you like matcha?"

With a coffee in one hand and his laptop in the other, Mr. Thompson naturally couldn't free a hand to type, so I only asked simple questions.

He only needed to nod or shake his head.

But when he heard this, a flash of surprise crossed Mr. Thompson's eyes, and he didn't answer immediately.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not a bad person. Have you forgotten? We've already exchanged IDs."

At the mention of last night, Mr. Thompson's cheeks burned slightly. He bit his lower lip and nodded at me with utmost seriousness.

"All right, see you in a bit then."

With that, I patted his shoulder and turned to leave.

'Looks like I guessed right. Everything Mr. Thompson likes, Mike hates.'

In the past, whenever I ate matcha-flavored things, Mike would complain beside me, saying it tasted like weird grass and that only losers liked it.