Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right novel Chapter 1267

Erica stared at the portrait. Memories of her childhood flashed through her mind.

It was Caleb who taught her to be strong and independent, trained her in fighting skills, and showed her how to protect herself. He had also shared wisdom about life and survival.

She remembered one time when he took her to the greenhouse. Surrounded by roses, he said, "Loving someone is like tending to flowers. Only with care and dedication can they bloom beautifully."

He taught her how to plant flowers and cherish them. Back then, she was just a budding girl. 20 years later, she was the president of the Mathis Group. She had bloomed like a dazzling rose, just as Caleb had predicted.

"Caleb, rest in peace," she muttered, tightening her grip on Randy's hand.

...

At the Potter Mansion, Barton glanced at Andrew, who was staring out the window.

"Sir, the guests have all arrived at the funeral. Aren't you going?"

"No. Someone else will represent me."

"You mean..."

"Jordan should've returned by now."

The weather outside shifted suddenly. The once-clear skies darkened as heavy clouds rolled in over Seamar City. A few faint rumbles of thunder echoed, and the rain began to fall.

At the funeral, the guests had already bid their final farewells to Caleb.

Just then, a figure wearing a white flower pinned to his chest appeared at the entrance of the hall.

"Am I late?" he said.

Everyone turned toward the door and saw Jordan standing there.

Randy thought for a moment and nodded. "Makes sense. Caleb had quite a few subordinates. We don't know which one he joined."

Jordan glanced at the white flower in his hand. "Looks like I'm late. Has he been buried?"

Randy nodded. "Yep. Any later, we'd be sitting down to eat."

Jordan was puzzled. "Eat?"

"Yeah," Randy replied. "We can't send Caleb off without a proper feast. He loved the crowd. I'm sure he would've wanted his funeral to be grand and cheerful."

Erica nodded in agreement. "Exactly. That's why I already told someone to bring ten gallons of whisky. Not sure if that'll be enough for Caleb up there."

"That's a bit too much," Randy chimed in.

"He's got lots of comrades. He outlived all of them. Do you think those friends of his won't be sharing drinks with him? Ten gallons is being conservative."