Chapter 61: Chapter 61: Then Divorce and Go Our Separate Ways

Director Ford asked in surprise, "She came with you?"

Tristan Lawson looked a little awkward.

Noelle Sutton had come on her own.

He didn’t like to lie, so he said, "She arrived a day early."

"Alright, I’ll wait to hear from you." Director Ford glanced at his watch. "The presentation is about to start, so I can’t chat any longer. Let’s leave it here for today."

"I wish you a successful exhibition, Director Ford."

"You’re too kind."

Tristan and Director Ford left the lounge together.

Director Ford followed a staff member into the exhibition hall.

Tristan went outside and lit a cigarette.

Director Ford seemed very interested in Noelle.

’Is it because of that animated version of *A Renaissance Cityscape Painting*?’

’It incorporates paper-cutting techniques, and Joshua learned paper-cutting from Noelle. So, does Director Ford want to learn about her skills?’

Joshua had arts and crafts classes when he was in kindergarten.

Noelle had just cut some paper with him for fun, nothing more. That kind of simple paper-cutting was incomparable to the craftsmanship in the animated *A Renaissance Cityscape Painting*.

Three-dimensional relief paper-cutting was a technique passed down as intangible cultural heritage; it wasn’t a skill an ordinary person could easily master.

He didn’t think the simple shapes Noelle cut with Joshua could possibly reach such an advanced level. It was just a game for a child, nothing presentable in a formal setting.

’The piece Sophie created used computer technology to produce a 3D relief effect. The reason it wasn’t perfect was probably that she doesn’t understand real paper-cutting and couldn’t quite achieve the look.’

’Director Ford’s student must be the one who understands the techniques of 3D relief paper-cutting.’

’It’s actually quite clever, combining such an old craft with modern animation. Not just anyone could produce an effect like that.’

’After all, expert paper-cutting skills require years of experience.’

Tristan still couldn’t figure out what this had to do with Noelle.

’Oh well. I’ll find out after I take her to meet Director Ford.’

Tristan decided not to go back into the exhibition. He sent a message to Sophie Hughes.

"I have to leave early for something. Listen to Director Ford’s presentation. Contact me before it’s over, and I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up."

Sophie Hughes received Tristan’s message.

’She figured he was going to find Noelle.’

’She could stop him for a moment, but not forever.’

’Still, delaying him by a day had achieved the effect she wanted.’

’Noelle must be upset by now.’

’The fact that Noelle still hadn’t accepted her WeChat friend request was proof enough that Noelle was bothered by her.’

So, Sophie replied to Tristan.

"It’s fine, go do what you need to do. I can get a ride back myself after it’s over."

Tristan drove back to the hotel and knocked on Noelle’s door, but she still hadn’t returned.

So he sat in the first-floor lobby and waited.

He waited, and it was almost noon.

Noelle still hadn’t come back.

It had always been others who waited for him; he had never waited this long for anyone. His patience had nearly reached its limit.

He dialed Noelle’s number.

’If she still doesn’t answer, I’ll just have to buy this hotel to get into her room!’

Just as the call connected, Tristan heard a familiar ringtone.

He looked toward the entrance.

Noelle stopped and took her phone out of her bag.

Tristan hung up.

Just as Noelle pulled out her phone, the call disconnected.

The missed call screen showed Tristan Lawson.

Her gaze faltered for a moment.

Suddenly, a warm hand clasped her wrist.

The familiar touch, the familiar back of a hand, the familiar watch.

She looked up.

Tristan was staring at her with dark, deep eyes.

The next second, Tristan was already pulling her inside.

They got into the elevator and went straight to the top floor.

Noelle was passively led by him into the presidential suite on the top floor.

After entering, Tristan pushed her down to sit on the sofa, then squatted in front of her, his gaze intense. "Why didn’t you answer my call?"

The man’s voice was slightly hoarse.

Noelle looked down at him. Dressed in a sharp suit, with a calm and steady demeanor, he was still as charming and captivating as ever.

’But she didn’t want to love him anymore.’

She lifted her hand and signed, "I didn’t want to answer."

A hint of displeasure spread through Tristan’s dark eyes.

"You were never like this before."

Noelle’s slender, pale fingers danced as she signed, "You said it yourself. That was before."

"Still making a scene about divorce?"

Tristan’s pleasant voice was tinged with an interrogating tone.

She signed, "I’m not making a scene."

Noelle’s expression was impassive, her gestures more resolute.

Tristan stood up, instinctively placing his hands on his hips. He paced on the spot a few times before squatting back down and taking off Noelle’s mask and sun hat.

"I don’t think there’s anything wrong between us. We’ve been married for seven years. Haven’t we always been like this?"

Tristan pressed his tongue against his jaw, then took a velvet box from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He opened it and presented it to Noelle.

"The night before last, I booked a flight for the early morning. I saw this brooch at the airport and thought it would suit you, so I was going to bring it as a gift. But the flight was delayed because of a thunderstorm in Cygnus, so I couldn’t get here in time. When I received your call for help, I..."

Tristan didn’t finish.

He had rushed over without a moment’s hesitation after getting her call for help.

It was just that things hadn’t lined up perfectly; he had missed the chance to save her himself.

In the end, he hadn’t reached her side in time.

But throughout the whole ordeal, his conscience was clear, and he disdained having to explain all that.

As his wife, Noelle had always been virtuous and considerate.

He assumed she wouldn’t hold a grudge against him over such a small matter.

He paused, his voice softening into a coaxing tone. "It was my fault for not being with you. Take the gift, and stop making a fuss, okay?"

The man’s explanation sounded sincere.

His voice was also very gentle.

But a mocking curve formed on Noelle’s lips.

’He ordered a total of twenty-three brooches for Sophie Hughes.’

’Aside from the one Sophie is wearing today, the other twenty-two are probably just going to be thrown out.’

’And he’s using one of those cast-off brooches to placate me.’

’I’m his legal, wedded wife.’

’What does he take me for?’

’Someone who only deserves another person’s leftovers?’

Noelle turned her head away, not wanting to look anymore.

The brooch was exquisite and beautiful, its diamonds glittering and radiant.

The light was too dazzling, enough to hurt her eyes.

Tristan hadn’t expected Noelle to actually refuse it.

And to ignore his sincere feelings.

"Noelle, don’t take it too far!"

Tristan’s tone grew much colder.

’I’ve been placating her for days, and the more I try, the more she acts up.’

’I don’t have this much time to waste on her, dealing with these petty, sentimental affairs.’

Noelle turned her head back and began to sign at him.

"If you think I’m being unreasonable, then let’s just get divorced sooner and go our separate ways."

Noelle mentioned divorce with such calm, her composure unruffled.

Tristan was starting to lose his composure.

He had come all the way to Cygnus, a tiring journey, and it was all for her. A spark of anger inevitably ignited in his heart. "Go our separate ways, is that it? You have no work experience. For the past seven years, you’ve lived a life of luxury. If you leave me, tell me, how will you survive?"