Chapter 155
“Sir, are you even listening?” Jason asked Andrew after the project manager had already tried to catch his attention a couple of times.
Andrew, whose gaze was plastered to his phone, snapped out of his thoughts and looked up.
He noticed everyone’s inquisitive gaze and shook his head.
“I have something important to handle.” Andrew adjourned the meeting, then stood and left the conference room, leaving everyone confused about his behavior.
Jason followed his boss, but by the time he reached the ground floor, his boss had already driven away.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.
At the same time, Andrew, driving at an atrocious speed, turned the car towards the highway, his mind filled with that image he saw in the Lara Jewels advertisement campaign.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him who that hand belonged to. It was Elra’s hand and the man was naturally… The thought alone filled him with anger and regret.
How could she do this to him? He always thought her anger was for show and the divorce was just a tantrum she was throwing.
He realized she was serious, but even after the divorce, he felt that if he tried to stay calm and act well toward her, he could ignite the same spark in her eyes she used to have until a couple months ago.
But this image It was almost like a declaration from her side. Was she seriously considering marrying that man? But why?
It was true they had their differences, but wasn’t she in love with him? And didn’t she use to say she would pay the debt of saving her life with her life? Then how come she was ready to take those vows with another man? Was her love so weak?
He had been trying so hard to get to talk to her, but she wouldn’t even spare a few minutes for him. Was it because of his family? Andrew’s heart clenched painfully as he looked at the photo that almost appeared like a proposal, a mini engagement.
Was she really ready to give what they had to another man?
Andrew’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as he imagined her smiling at another man, walking around the house excitedly to share what she did at home in her mundane life, cooking another man’s favorite dishes while patiently listening to what he had to share.
Those gazes, those expectations… He remembered how Elara used to help him out of the coat the first thing when he arrived at the house, and her first question used to be, “Was it a tough day?” followed by whether he had eaten anything healthy.
Then she would send him to freshen up and heat the dishes while she would blabber about her day, how she planted a new tree, read a new article about something, heard a bird tweet, or walked on the terrace, or any minor inconvenience.
At that time, all those things seemed useless, and he used to listen to them halfheartedly, mostly considering them unwanted noise in the backyard, while all he wanted to do was eat in peace and get back to work, but now p>
Now that she was gone, he realized that it was her useless chatter that made the tough, tired nights bearable; it was her care and love that made that cold place feel like home.
The homely smell and her faint scent, not over-the-top, just sweet enough, used to calm him.
Was she really willing to give that all to another man? Right after one month of their divorce?
Was it so easy to forget him? Was it so easy not to love him? Why?
Maybe if she gave him one more chance, he would become the kind of husband she needed, one who would listen to her and stand for her before his family, but how was he supposed to do that when she wouldn’t even listen to him or allow him to talk to her?
Distracted with the sorrow, Andrew swiveled the car at the last second to avoid crashing into a truck before he stopped at some distance, feeling uncontrollable rage building inside him.
The vibration of his phone caught his attention, and he picked up the call when he saw Beatrice’s number.
“Bea, right now isn’t the best time for—” he started to speak when the girl cut him off mid-sentence.
“I fell from the stairs, Andrew. There’s no one home. Can you send someone to take me to the hospital?” Beatrice’s voice was full of contained pain, and Andrew took a deep breath before clenching and unclenching his fists.
“I’ll be there. Don’t move too much,” Andrew said before he swallowed his pain and drove straight to his house.
The moment Andrew reached the house, he saw Beatrice sitting near the sofa, her legs twisted at an odd angle, wearing a nightgown, and he couldn’t help but look away for a moment before sighing.
“Can you stand?” He asked, his tone unusually cold.
Beatrice shook her head.
“Okay,” He walked to her and helped her up, noticing how dangerously his hand was touching her skin.
It was inappropriate, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her to her room, drop her on the bed, and leave.
Every second that he held her for a little longer felt like he was betraying his wife.
His wife… she was no longer with him. They were divorced, and now that he ascended the stairs, he finally understood what Elara meant when she said their relationship was ambiguous.
“Beatrice, I think you should return to your apartment. If you are uncomfortable alone, I can arrange for a roommate for you,” Andrew said as he placed her on the bed.
His words made Beatrice freeze in her place.
“Are you sending me away?” She asked, almost gasping in disbelief.
Andrew nodded.
“It’s not appropriate for you to live in a house with me alone. You are the female lead, and I am the investor. I don’t want people to misunderstand. Besides, Elara and I are divorced, and this will give people more reasons to gossip. I’ll ask a helper to help you move,” Andrew explained.
Beatrice’s expression turned ugly before she nodded.
“I understand. Thanks for your hospitality for so long, Andrew. I guess even you think wrongly of me, and that’s why you are sending me away,” she said.
Andrew looked at her one last time before nodding.
“The doctor will be here soon. Don’t move too much till then,” Andrew said and left the room.
He went straight to his study to drink his sorrows, his mind too chaotic to care about anything else.
Beatrice, on the bed, sat straight, her brows furrowing in confusion. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
She was wearing her most revealing lingerie under the nightgown, and when he had picked her up, it had slipped, but the guy didn’t even look at her.
How was this supposed to work?
She chewed her bottom lip, clenching the bedsheet. As she looked around, remembering her uncle’s words about needing to make a move before the proposal, an idea struck her, and she nodded to herself.