Chapter 118:
The next moment, I heard someone unlocking the door with a key.
My pulse raced. A thief trying to pick the lock?
I grabbed the fruit knife from the bedside table, my heart pounding. If it really was an intruder, what should I do?
The door swung open.
A man in a white shirt stepped inside.
Herbert’s face came into focus, and I immediately relaxed.
It was him.
He reached out and switched on the light before walking toward me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be fearless?”
The mockery in his voice made me roll my eyes. Placing the fruit knife back on the bedside table, I muttered, “I’m only afraid of thieves.”
“A thief wouldn’t have a key.”
He raised the key in his hand as if to prove his point.
“Why… why did you suddenly come back?”
I stared at him, confused. His hair was slightly disheveled, his shirt wrinkled. He looked exhausted, and his bloodshot eyes made my chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.
Discover more on gα ℓ ησ ν𝒆 𝓁s, com
But I knew the reason for his exhaustion.
It wasn’t for me.
Herbert reached out and gently pinched my chin.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I’m not unhappy,” I replied, lowering my gaze, unable to meet his eyes.
How could I be happy?
We were about to get divorced.
He was about to marry another woman.
“You can’t fool me. You’re obviously unhappy.”
His voice was firm, almost insistent.
Frustration welled up inside me. I pushed his hand away, a flicker of resentment flashing in my eyes.
How could I not feel disgusted?
He belonged to another woman now—his heart, his body. So why did he still insist on touching me?
He had spent the past week with her.
For her.
Herbert’s tone grew sharper.
“I just spent over ten hours on a plane because I was worried about you. And this is how you treat me?”
For me?
