Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

Chapter 1924 Can You Promise Me One Thing?

Chapter 1924 Can You Promise Me One Thing?

"Yes, you've started painting? Weren't you just discharged from the hospital?" Sister asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, I did. I spent most of the day studying the script. I have a deep impression of this character! I really like her," replied Agnes, as she picked up her bowl.

"Just a misunderstood moonlight by the amnesiac male lead, crazy infatuation for a while, then abandoned. This Zoe, she just needs to love the male lead wholeheartedly, with infatuation, admiration, longing eyes. She is a simple, persistent character," Agnes continued.

After hearing her sister's words, sister couldn't help but praise her, "I interpreted it the same way, so researching the script with you is a good idea."

Agnes beamed with pride, "I'm not the only one researching, we are a team, I'm just the head writer."

After dinner, the sisters began to analyze the character of Zoe thoroughly.

Summer, who was acting in a TV drama for the first time, brewed emotions in front of her sister again and again, rehearsing for the scene tomorrow...

She was a new person, with a dream of performing, willing to seize the opportunity.

So, of course, she had to give her best effort, not dragging everyone down.

Summer had always been a good girl since childhood. She had the character to carry the weight of the world on her own, she was wise, calm, and never compromised her principles.

In front of her family, she always shared joys but not worries. She thought everything should be allowed to happen, as long as she was alive, there was nothing she couldn't handle.

At night, in a certain villa.

Tristan and Monica got out of the car, hand in hand, walking towards the living room. They left a silhouette afar. From their footsteps, it was clear that they were in a happy mood.

These days, they continued with their previous pattern of spending time together. In the morning, Tristan went to the company, while Monica taught the children piano.

In the afternoon, Tristan would pick her up, and then they would spend quality time together.

Recently, they climbed the most famous mountain in Arkpool City, watched the most beautiful sunset, camped on top and watched the sunrise together.

They rode bicycles on the coastal highway, went for countryside walks, set up a tent together, Tristan grilled steaks, Monica brewed coffee...

They rolled up their pants and caught fish and shrimp together, taking many silly daily photos.

They went to a concert by Mao Buyi, sitting in the front row.

Then they went to a karaoke bar, every lyric they sang was a message of love to each other.

Back at home, Tristan would help her wash her hair, blow-dry it, and then they would apply face masks together... writing down the dates in the memory book, imprinting their fingerprints.

In the brightly lit study room--

Tristan, in bathrobe and pajamas after a shower, sat in front of the computer. Monica sat on his lap, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, holding the mouse with his other hand.

They were planning their wedding, the overall effect was already visible after nearly ten days of hard work, but they were still fine-tuning the details.

As the night deepened...

He closed the computer, gently turning her body towards him.

Monica lowered her head, smiling as she met his gaze, their foreheads lightly touching, their noses gently brushing against each other, their breaths intertwining...

"My Princess Annie, can you promise me one thing?" Tristan's gaze fell on her lips, soft as peach.

The girl's heart raced, she softly replied, "My Prince Charming, please say." Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

Tristan tried to speak, asking her with the most tender tone, "Tonight, could you not stay in the guest room?"

The girl was speechless, feeling a flush all over her body, even her cheeks turning red.

Did he want to sleep with her?

Before she could answer, the man passionately kissed her lips... she didn't refuse, taking it as her silent agreement, this was masculine thinking.