Wrong marriage and sweet love (Joyce and Luther)

Chapter 113

"Okay, auntie. I got it, I'll be on time."

"I'm sorry to have troubled you, goodbye."

Joyce hung up the phone and looked confused for a moment. She opened her beautiful eyes and let

out a breath.

"What? Who was calling." Luther asked, sensing that something was wrong with her, his dark eyes

narrowing slightly.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's Charlotte's mother, Cecelia, who asked me to meet her at the Pure Blue Café Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

across from the group this afternoon." Joyce put down the chopsticks in her hand and suddenly felt her

appetite gone.

Luther sniffed and frowned, "You don't have to go. I'll take care of it. I will go to the Heath family to

explain to them in person."

The Heath family couldn't wait any longer, and now even Cecelia had to step up. How could he let

Joyce face all these for him?

"It's okay. I have agreed anyway, so I should go. Besides, it was me who was at fault in the first place."

Joyce hurriedly gulped a few mouthfuls of food, her mind was slightly confused, and she could no

longer taste it. What would come just would come, and she could not hide from it even if she wanted to.

The thought of being chastised by a woman as gentle and atmospheric as Cecelia made her feel a little

down.

Luther was silent, his mind heavy.

"Have you all finished? I'll go pay the bill." Joyce stood up and took out her phone for the bill.

Luther suddenly took her hand and said seriously, "If she gives you a hard time, call me."

Joyce was stunned for a moment, then gently brushed his hand away and smiled openly, "You're

overthinking it. She won’t and I can handle it."

That was quite something to Juanita but since the atmosphere was not quite right, she did not say

anything.

After settling the bill, the three of them took Luther's car back to the group headquarters.

Joyce and Juanita returned to the project team together just in time.

Joyce tidied up her work, and drew her design drafts for a while, looking at her watch every now and

then, distracted.

At four o'clock, she took some time off work and went to the Pure Blue Café opposite the group.

This was a nostalgically decorated Mediterranean-style cafe with an elegant style and comfortable

environment. Sitting inside, listening to nostalgic music, and sipping a cup of aromatic coffee, she felt

like turning back the clock and indulging herself in the good old days.

The meeting with Cecelia was scheduled for 4:30.

Joyce habitually arrived early.

She picked a seat next to a window and ordered some tea and snacks and waited quietly.

Suddenly, a commotion outside the door caught Joyce's attention.

She stood up, pushed open the glass door, and walked out into the crowd of onlookers.

After she took a closer look, Joyce found the person lying on his side on the floor was Cecelia.

Cecelia seemed to be out of breath, breathing heavily, with one hand stuck to her neck and the other

trying to find something. Her face was white, her lips were blue, and her forehead was covered with

sweat.

Joyce pushed through the crowd and rushed forward, kneeling on the ground to hold Cecelia up.

"Auntie, what's wrong with you."

Almost choking, Cecelia could not even say a word and could not lift her hand. Yet none of the

surrounding people could understand what she wanted to express.

Joyce saw that when Cecelia inhaled, there was a clear depression in her supraclavicular fossa, and

together with other symptoms, she immediately judged that Cecelia was really having an acute asthma

attack. She asked anxiously, "Auntie, you have an asthma attack, do you have your medicine with

you?"

Cecelia nodded her head with great effort. She could not lift her hand, only her eyes looked at the

corner not far away.

Following the direction Cecelia looked over, Joyce quickly found a black handbag that had been

dumped into the corner. She opened the handbag and dumped out the contents inside one by one.