Chapter 237
I would be waiting for him to come home, waking up to find him sleeping beside me in the morning. That feeling of bliss had me hooked, so deep and true. But once the illusion shattered, there was no going back. I even found my past self laughably naive.
He was going through the motions while I felt genuine happiness. A sourness surged from my heart to my nose. I turned away, sniffed, and didn’t pick up the conversation. I didn’t know what else to say. Should I play the victim, or should I curse him out? None of it made any sense.
He exhaled deeply. “I’m starting to realize… Teresa Isn’t exactly who I thought she was.”
I pursed my lips. “How old were you again when Teresa got into that accident trying to save you?”
“Twelve,” Bryant remembered clearly, answering without hesitation.
I couldn’t help but mutter, “No wonder she could fool you so easily.”
A grade–schooler could not tell good from evil. And a grown person, who, in trying to save him, ended up in a hospital bed, not to mention Albert’s constant coaching.
Knowing Teresa, I bet she was all sweet and caring to Bryant after marrying into the Fergusons, all to get a fancier lifestyle and maybe bring Margaret on board too.
“What did you say?” Not catching my mutter, Bryant asked with confusion.
1 brushed it off. “Nothing much. So, what made you think Teresa wasn’t quite the person you thought she was?”
“She knew all about Albert and Margaret’s affairs but still wanted me to marry Margaret.” Bryant’s tone was cold, filled with an indescribable emotion.
I was surprised. The fact that this mother daughter duo could reconcile was beyond me.
Just the other day, they were at the town hall, fighting like cats and dogs, and then, they were on the same page again.
I laughed, joking, “What about Dorothy then? One as the wife, the other as the mistress?”
“Jane,” He looked at me helplessly, yet there was a softness in his eyes as if making a promise, “I’m not going to marry anyone. Don’t listen to or believe what other people say.”
I was stunned, unconsciously clenching my fist, “Who you marry has nothing to do with me anymore. You don’t have to explain it.”
After saying that, I checked the time, hinting at him to leave. “It’s late. I have things to do tomorrow. You should go
It’s better to maintain a distance, given the circumstances.
Bryant fell silent for a long while. Being accustomed to superiority, he couldn’t handle being brushed off. He got up, a bit shaky. “I transfer the money to you, and you’re not selling the house.”
Perhaps it was the alcohol, his eyes were moist, and his voice hoarse.
I refused again, running out of patience. “I told you, I don’t need it. What I do with the house is my business, not yours.”
“I won’t allow it.” He gave me a meaningful look, leaving those words behind before turning to leave.
The next day, waking up to see my bank account surged with a string of numbers, I felt nothing but irritation.
Christine picked me up to scout for office spaces, dropped off lunch she brought especially for me, and started counting the digits on my phone.
The more she counted the hinter here not than tha