I Married the President

Chapter 333: Chapter 333: Please Don’t Touch Me

Claire Sinclair picked herself up dejectedly. Without a word, she turned and left.

’I’m never coming back to this place again.’

It didn’t matter anymore whether they got a divorce or not. In any case, she would never let herself fall for anyone again.

As she watched Claire Sinclair’s retreating figure grow smaller, the fire in Nancy Lockwood’s heart gradually subsided, and her rationality began to return.

She had been so harsh, kicking Claire Sinclair out like that. She wondered if the girl could handle it.

’Who cares about her. As long as that stupid woman doesn’t keep coming around to demand a divorce from Young Master Quincy, it’s a huge blessing.’

’Young Master Quincy’s career cannot be hindered by anyone!’

...

Claire Sinclair walked for a long time with no destination in mind. She didn’t even notice that one of her shoes had fallen off.

Her mind was a mess. She wanted to find a quiet place to be alone, or maybe have a good cry—anything to feel better. She wouldn’t care if she cried her eyes out.

But the tears wouldn’t come, and happiness felt impossibly distant.

Before she knew it, the sky had darkened. Claire Sinclair found herself in an unfamiliar public square, only stopping when a sharp pain shot through her foot.

The people around her cast strange glances her way. Most of them would look at her face, then down at her foot, and then back at her face again.

It was as if they were all thinking, ’Is this woman crazy?’

Claire Sinclair was already immune to it. She’d been on the receiving end of looks like that since she was a child. It didn’t matter.

There was a bench by the side of the path. Claire Sinclair walked over and sat down. She looked down at the sole of her foot, which was scraped raw. It had bled a little, but it wasn’t serious, just a bit painful.

’That’s weird, where did my other shoe go?’

’Whatever, I can’t be bothered to look for it.’

She thought about taking out her phone to pass the time, only to remember it had been confiscated. She only had a little cash on her, not even enough for a full meal, but at least she could afford the bus fare.

But she didn’t want to go back to the hotel just yet. She wanted to stay outside for a while longer.

In a nearby café, Ethan Kingsley was drinking coffee by himself. His special assistant, Seth Payne, stood behind him in silence.

By chance, Ethan Kingsley caught sight of the girl sitting in the square, and his brow furrowed slightly.

”Seth, the check.”

With that, he stood up, walked out of the café, and headed toward the girl.

Seth Payne glanced at the dejected girl outside the window, his expression unchanging. He dutifully went to pay the bill.

...

On the bustling street, with people coming and going, Claire Sinclair felt increasingly helpless and lost.

’If I’m not a journalist, what else can I do?’

’Am I really going to have to be a cashier or a dishwasher?’

’I have all these hacking skills, but no way to use them. How did I become such a failure...’

Just as she was lost in thought, a shoebox suddenly appeared at her feet. A pair of large, handsome hands opened the box, revealing a pair of furry, brown ankle boots.

Claire Sinclair snapped her head up and saw Ethan Kingsley’s bright, confident smile.

”It’s getting cold. You should keep your feet covered, or you’ll catch a chill.” As he spoke, Ethan Kingsley took hold of the girl’s delicate foot, moving as if to help her put on the boot.

Claire Sinclair instinctively pulled her foot back, her eyes filled with vigilance. ”Please don’t touch me!”

”Alright, then you can put it on yourself.” Saying this, Ethan Kingsley moved to sit beside her.

Once he was seated, Claire Sinclair’s foot was freezing. ’It doesn’t matter who bought these boots. I’ll put them on first. I’m no masochist.’

After she had put on the boots, she slowly raised her head to look at the man’s gentle, refined smile.

Though reluctant, she still said, ”Thank you. How much were the boots? I’ll send you the money on WeChat when I get back.”

”They were just about a hundred yuan. Just send whatever you think is fair as a token,” Ethan Kingsley replied, trying to be polite.