Remarriage Failed Again Today

The call connected, and before Annabelle could say a word, Leona’s voice came rushing through the receiver. "Annabelle, where are you?"

The anxiety in his voice was clear.

Annabelle pressed her lips together, gazing through the window at the cute plush toys inside. A cheerful, pink "Peppa" seemed to be looking right back at her, smiling happily.

Annabelle stared back at it, silent.

When she didn’t respond, Leona was startled. He shot up from the sofa and asked urgently, "Hey, Annabelle? Annabelle? Are you listening? Say something if you can hear me!"

’She’d been out since two this afternoon and still wasn’t back. He was getting really worried.’

"Mm."

After a long moment, she finally responded, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the glass.

But her eyes slowly welled up with tears.

Annabelle’s emotions were always complicated.

Most people’s sadness and despair stemmed from major difficulties or setbacks, but not hers.

On the contrary, the greater the hardship, the greater the challenge, the more it ignited her fighting spirit and resolve. The more desperate the situation, the more she found a way to survive.

But it was always the little things that touched a nerve and made her sad.

In the end, even the most aloof woman has a tender, untouchable sadness deep in her heart.

Hearing her subdued voice, Leona’s heart clenched. "Where are you right now?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

Annabelle looked up at the street and named a random building.

Leona recognized it instantly. He grabbed his car keys and ran out the door, hanging up after a quick, "Stay right there. I’m coming."

After hanging up, Annabelle sighed and stared blankly at the stuffed animals in her arms.

"Miss..."

As Annabelle stood there, a cute little boy about five or six years old suddenly appeared in front of her.

The little boy was dressed like a little gentleman in a small suit with a red bow tie and had fluffy, chestnut-colored hair.

He had a fair, chubby face and stared up at her with wide eyes. He was adorable, with a touch of pitiable sweetness.

Annabelle paused, then crouched down to his eye level. She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Were you calling me?"

The little boy nodded, his eyes fixed on the brown teddy bear in her arms, a look of deep longing in them.

Annabelle understood what he wanted at a glance. She took out the teddy bear and, smiling, tilted her head. "You like this?"

The little boy nodded again, shyly, watching her with a cautious expression.

Annabelle generously offered the bear to him. "It’s yours," she said kindly. "Go on, take it."

The little boy broke into a smile so bright it almost dazzled Annabelle.

He took the bear joyfully, his smile full of happiness, but then his expression slowly fell. "When my mommy left, she gave me a little bear just like this one. But... a kid at preschool broke it, and I could never find another one..."

The claw machine Annabelle had been playing wasn’t your average one.

Most machines only took one coin per try, but this one required five.

The odds of winning were higher, and the toys inside were cuter—they were even limited edition. It was no wonder the little boy couldn’t find one in a store.

’Sounds like this kid has a story.’

Annabelle watched him as he lowered his head, clutching the bear’s ear. His eyes were red-rimmed. "My mommy got really sick," he said. "I haven’t seen her in over a year. The last time was at the hospital. She told me she had to go somewhere else to get better, and that it would be many, many years before she could come back."