Chapter 158
Christine shot me a quick, suggestive glance that almost spilled with implications.
I was a bit perplexed, but seeing Mark’s casual demeanor, I was sure it wasn’t what Christine had thought.
After all, Mark had his heart set on someone for twenty years. How could he suddenly take a fancy to someone like me, fresh from at divorce?
Mark filled my glass with apple cider, “No rush. Take your time to think it over
“Sure.” My heart was still racing. After all, it was a brand I had admired for many years. It was seemingly within easy reach, which was. almost like a dream.
After dinner, claiming she had another party to attend, Christine asked Mark to drive me home.
As we got into the car, I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“Not at all. Consider it a favor returned, Mark teased with a smile.
I chuckled. “But you didn’t even let me pay the bill…”
Mark excused himself to take a call halfway through dinner and secretly settled the bill.
His fingers, pale and slender, rested elegantly on the steering wheel, His gaze swept over me, cutting me off. “You invited, and I paid. It’s all the same. If you keep thinking of ways to thank me, you’ll have to ask me out again.”
“Oh…I shrugged, somehow getting tangled in his logic,
I gave him the address of Riverview Estate. Since Bryant had promised to finalize our divorce as planned, he wouldn’t be staying there again. And I imagined he hadn’t returned since I moved out. Staying at Christine’s place wasn’t a long–term solution. Moving back to Riverview Estate seemed like the better option.
Arriving at Riverview Estate, the chill from the garage made me shiver as I got out of the car, wrapping my coat tighter and waving goodbye to Mark. “You better head back, bye! Drive safe!”
He watched me until I disappeared into the building, his demeanor soft, “Yeah. Get inside.”
“Will do.” I hurried into the building without looking back.
It was warmer inside. Opening my door to find the lights blazing, I paused, wondering if there had been a break–in or if I had forgotten. to turn them off after my last visit to Christine’s.
But then, I frowned. A pair of shiny men’s leather shoes at the threshold caught my eye. They were custom–made and unavailable on the market
Bryant’s towering figure was standing by the balcony, his fingertips glowing intermittently with the ember of his cigarette.
I asked, “What are you doing here?”
He seemed distracted. When I approached and spoke, he finally stiffened, tuming around to snuff his cigarette. His voice sounded as chilly as early winter. “He drove you home?”
“Yes.”
I admitted, “You haven’t answered my question. Why you’re here? Or do you want to go back on your word? You’re not giving me the house?”
He bit his lip lightly. “Am I that petty?”
I pressed, “Then please leave.”
“So eager to draw lines between us,” Bryant’s brows furrowed slightly, his eyes cold, “You think Mark is some saint? The Larson family is no less complicated than my family”
y this issue.
“That’s none of your business, Bryant. Let’s not interfere in each other’s lives anymore, okay?” I was exhausted by Bryant didn’t respond but coldly walked over to the coffee table and picked up a paper bag, handing it to me without a word.
Out of nowhere, he added, “You should keep them.”