Chapter 44
Moira hadn’t even had a chance to explain when she received a flurry of messages from Juliet,
Juliet Moira, are you progressing so fast?
Juliet: Could it be that Mr. Covington has been secretly in love with you for years, and now he can finally be with you.]
Juliet: Well done, Moira! You’re at Mr. Covington’s place at this hour. Allie will be pi s e d off if he finds out.
Juliet: Alfie is at your door. Are you planning to spend the night at Mr. Covington’s house tonight? Oh, sorry, I should say your house now. You’re
married!]
Juliet: Moira, you’re really something I’m impressed. Barclay is a good man. Do whatever you want with him. You’re a couple now.
Juliet: [But a piece of advice. Don’t have a baby for the moment. Remember to use a condom. I won’t bother you anymore.
Moira trembled when she saw Juliet’s me
messages, and her phone fell onto the bed and bounced off onto the floor.
At the same time, there was the sound of the bathroom door opening.
Moira looked up and saw Barclay coming out in a bathrobe, with a hint of fragrance trailing behind him.
He had just washed his hair, and water droplets dripped from his face down along the sharp lines, sliding down to
chest
chin before dropping onto his
Freshly showered, Barclay’s skin, under the black bathrobe, looked fair.
Moira watched
d the water droplets, and her mind went blank for a moment. Then she quickly averted har gaze in a panic and said, “Mr. Covington, I want
to talk to you.”
He casually dried his hair with a bath towel and then tossed it into the laundry basket in the bathroom.
Glancing at her, he walked to the living area, picked up two highball glasses between his long fingers, and grabbed a bottle of red wine with his right hand. “Care for a drink? Helps with sleep,” he said.
Moira didn’t refuse. “Thank you.”
As she took the glass, she accidentally brushed against his fingers, and the cool touch made her pulse quicken, Moira quickly lowered her head and book a sip of the wine, trying to be brave with the use of alcohol.
Barclay placed the red wine on the small coffee table, pulled a chair in front of her, and sat down with his legs stretched out. He looked into her eyes and asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
He had just showered, and the fresh scent emanating from him enveloped her, Moira felt her face heating up.
The wine was rich and fragrant, leaving a lingering taste in her mouth. It was a good wine.
y and straightened up, saying, “About our marriage, Mr. Covington. You should know why I married you.”
Moira bit her tongue slightly a
Barclay swirled the wine in his glass and said, “Cad you tell me why?”
Moira paused, her rehe a r s d words caught in her throat. She locked eyes with him, icy and unwavering, and spoke with a gravity, “You know, back then, Alfie pulled a disappearing act on my wedding day, just to be with Claire. He didn’t even bother staying with me after I had an accident. I marrie