Claimed by My First Love's Brother (by Evergreen) novel Chapter 520

Chapter 520

I asked Anton, “Are we going back now?”

“Um,” Anton replied softly.

I pursed my lips and said, “Can I… go visit my grandmother’s house first?”

I don’t know what grandma’s small courtyard looks like now.

When it got dark. I used to lie in the yard and count the stars.

Grandma would bring me all kinds of fruits, with reeds burning beside to drive away the snakes, insects, mice, and ants.

The fragrance of gardenia lingered in the courtyard, refreshing and calming.

However, memories are always beautiful. Returning to reality, looking at the dilapidated courtyard in front of me, my tears fell down all of a sudden.

The wooden door was crooked and twisted, and it fell down with a push, thick dust flying up and blurring the sight in front of me.

Anton stood in front of me, kicking away the weeds in the yard first.

He led me into the yard, and the familiar setting brought back many

memories.

The beauty in my mind contrasted sharply with the desolation in front of me, and my heart felt sad as well.

Grandma is gone, that warmth and beauty, can never go back.

Chapter520

There was an orange tree in the yard, the tree grew very big, and the ground was covered with traces of rotten oranges.

Anton stood by the orange tree, surprised and said, “This tree is still here.”

I looked at him in confusion and asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because this is what I planted.” He smiled at me and added, “It’s what we planted together.”

I exclaimed, “Did we plant it together?”

Anton nodded, his gentle eyes and eyebrows seemed to be recalling something.

He paused, then chuckled softly, “Although I really hope you can remember that time, but if you really can’t remember, I won’t blame you, after all, you didn’t do it on purpose.”

I slowly raised my eyes to look at him.

Anton smiled gently at me, but there was still a hint of sadness and self- mockery hidden in his eyes.

He got up and walked into the room.

I reached out and touched the name on the tree trunk, then got up and followed.

Grandma’s house was a two–story attic.

At that time, both my grandmother and I slept upstairs. The night breeze carried the scent of flowers into the window, which smelled particularly good.

Now the corridor was full of dust and messy cobwebs.

The table in the room was in a state of disrepair, and the bowl of the small white dog was still at the foot of the table, so dirty that its original color could not be seen.

When grandma was taken to Freybourne, she took the little white dog with her.

Just after my grandmother passed away, the little white dog also died not long after.