Chapter 407

Greg was absentmindedly flicking a lighter, his usually stoic face showing no emotion as he muttered, “I don’t know.”

Edith couldn’t help but laugh. “Even the devil himself gets puzzled, huh?”

“I don’t want to push her into anything.”

“Oh, come off it.”

Edith pierced through his facade, laughing, “Stop playing innocent with me. You knew she’d be at that hotel today, and yet you had to show up in your beat–up old car, just begging to be noticed. You wanted her to come after you, didn’t you?”

” ”

“And when she finally shows up, you’re here acting all coy, avoiding her.”

11

11

“Greg…”

Suddenly standing up, Edith pointed at him, her laugh taking on a knowing tone, “You’re not trying to play hard to get, are you?”

11

With a swift motion, Greg brushed her hand aside, feigning indifference, “Your imagination’s running wilder than hers ever did.”

Back then, when he had returned to Bryant’s side, it was a clean break, cutting

off all ties with him.

Even when Molly passed away, it was Bryant who received the call.

He never told anyone, but he had tried calling back, too.

In the dead of night, overcome with thoughts, he couldn’t resist.

Bryant answered again.

I went back downstairs to the car, and Christine could tell something was off.

1/2

09:24

“No one was there?

“There was.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you’re disappointed?”

“It wasn’t Greg.”

I buckled up, “He must’ve sold the house. A woman answered the door.”

After all, this place had memories of me, the one who left him. It would only bring back pain.

Christine nodded, driving off.

On the road, she furrowed her brows, “Was the woman who answered young, pretty?”

“Pretty, and about our age, I guess?”

“Did you ever think she could be Greg’s girlfriend or something like that?”

I paused for a moment at her suggestion, a possibility I hadn’t considered.

But two years can change a lot.

Just like Bryant couldn’t expect me to wait forever, I shouldn’t have assumed Greg would still be waiting for me.

Yet, for some reason, I shook my head, “I don’t think so.”

“Probably.”

Christine thought for a moment and agreed, “If he’s living the high life again, with fancy cars and bodyguards, it means he’s as powerful as he was back in the days with the Fords. He’s probably too busy for relationships.”

It made sense.

But as long as he’s doing well, that’s all that matters to me.

Back at work as the head designer at Janedream, I focused mostly on

09 24

designing Bella’s gown.

A successful design could propel both Janedream and myself to new heights. But failure was not an option, especially with a star of Bella’s magnitude and her fanbase’s purchasing power.

Then, out of the blue, I got a call from Kevin.

“Ms. Webster… Mr. Ferguson would like to schedule a time with you, hoping you could personally tailor a few suits for him.”

“I’m swamped right now.”

It was a bittersweet moment.

I’d made many suits for him in the past, most of which he seldom wore.

Hanging in the closet, they were as neglected as their owner.

Kevin didn’t seem surprised, “Mr. Ferguson… anticipated this. He mentioned maybe you’d be willing to meet at the courthouse first, to finalize the divorce, and then you could consider his request.”

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