“No, I‘m not.” Abigail quickly stopped touching herself.
Nonetheless, Mrs. Watson still appeared suspicious.” Well, I think I‘m seeing a little belly there… You’ve been eating a lot lately, haven‘t you? Though your cheeks and arms hadn‘t changed much.”
“Well, fat does gather in the stomach first,” Abigail explained hastily, and asked, “By the way, can I ask you for a favor?”
Mrs. Watson nodded. “Of course. Just say the word.”
Abigail gathered the clothes she wanted to bring with her when she ran away, and handed everything to Mrs. Watson. “Please take all these to the cleaners.”
“All of it?” Mrs. Watson exclaimed in surprise.
Abigail nodded–she felt much better now, and must find an opening to escape.
If she allowed things to drag on, her belly would start to swell and there would be no hiding the truth.
Of course, she must do things quietly and without leaving traces, so that no one could find her.
Mrs. Watson started to pick up all her clothing then, and did not forget to remind Abigail before leaving, “Don‘t read the stuff on the internet. You would just get upset.”
Abigail nodded. “I know.”
She thought to herself then that Mrs. Watson was a genuinely good person, and it was nice to have someone to be sincere with. If there was anything Abigail was reluctant to part with from this place, it was her.
She sighed lengthily at the thought.
When Mrs. Watson returned, she informed Abigail that since she had sent in a bulk load of laundry, it would take around a week before everything would be sent back. “It‘s fine,” Abigail replied. “I‘m in no hurry anyway.”
Diarmuid did not return home that night, but Abigail thought nothing of it.
Without a job, she lounged around in the mansion, taking her time to nurture her body while working part-time as an online medical consultant.
Though she never left the house, she took no notice of the scandal Samantha fabricated, let alone find out how far things had gone.
When Diarmuid did not return over the next few days, Abigail decided that this was the best chance to run away, and so told Mrs. Watson, “Can you give me the check for the cleaners? I’ll pick up the laundry.”
“Oh, I can get it for you!” Mrs. Watson suggested.
“Actually, I want to leave the house for a while too.”
Abigail smiled. “Picking up the laundry afterward is just convenient.”
In reality, she would leave once she picked up her laundry.
As Mrs. Watson passed her the check, she looked at Mrs.
Watson for a while before reaching out to give her a hug, saying, “I’m going to miss you, Mrs. Watson.”
Mrs. Watson laughed. “What are you on about, silly? It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”
Abigail could not say anything to that, and so simply smiled before leaving.
She had just reached the cleaners when her phone rang, and she stayed outside to answer it.
“Abigail? Do you remember me?”
Abigail had to search her memory for a while before finding a name. “Ms. Lang.”
“Yes, it’s me. As you know, my husband owns a company researching pharmaceutical products, and they are celebrating their latest breakthrough with a banquet tonight. I had a dancing instructor who would be performing a solo dance tonight, but she got injured and couldn’t take the stage. That’s when I remembered you, and you’re certainly skilled enough for that…”
“Actually…” Abigail quickly interrupted, “I can’t perform either.”
She was pregnant, and dancing in heels was a no go.
Moreover, Latin dance attire was skimpy and tight on the spots it covered, which would reveal her swelling belly.
Ms. Lang became silent. “I see…”
“Sorry,” Abigail quickly added.
“Actually, I think you could have a piano recital instead— I happened to see how well you played for the students during one of your classes. To tell the truth, I’m not trying to push this on you, but we’re really one short and the schedule has been fixed. Every other instructor in the studio has their own programs, too.”
Ms. Lang was asking earnestly, and Abigail turned to glance at the laundromat just then.
It would have surely been difficult for Ms. Lang’s husband to research that anti-cancer medication, and their success was certainly worth celebrating.
Moreover, she could afford to wait another night.
“Very well.”
“Thank you!” Ms. Lang exclaimed happily. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Abigail was not concerned if she did not profit from this, however-she did this mainly because Ms. Lang and her husband were good people.
“Well, I’ll see you at eight tonight. The venue is No. 109,
Dorime Pharmaceuticals, Cura Route.”
“Okay,” Abigail replied, and then asked, “Do I have to prepare anything else?”
“No, of course not,” Ms. Lang replied. “Your presence is more than enough.”
With that, Abigail left the laundromat. Since she was out anyway, she took a stroll instead of heading home immediately.
Then, she noticed that some of the people around her were pointing and gesturing at her, so she had to head back to the mansion-one must admit that the internet was certainly a tremendous influence in today’s world!
Samantha’s drama had certainly damaged her reputation so thoroughly that she was being picked out even on the streets.
When Mrs. Watson found her returning empty-handed, she asked, “Where’s the laundry?”
“There’s a few that weren’t done yet,” Abigail smiled in reply. “I’ll pick them up later.”
She arrived punctually at the designated venue.
Ms. Lang had already prepared an exquisite gown for her.
It looked a little like a wedding dress with its layered frills, completely concealing her stomach while accentuating everything that made her beautiful: her thin neck, her beautiful collarbones, and slim arms.
While she was backstage, the makeup artist helped her put on light makeup-she was a natural beauty, and too much makeup would instead ruin her appearance.
Ms. Lang then told her that she will be the first to perform on stage.
They were supposed to start with a dance number, but had to change because of the sudden change.
The host began with a motivating speech, followed by a word from the CEO before the banquet formally began.
As Abigail slowly headed onstage, Mark Wickers — seated beside Diarmuid beneath the stage-asked the man, “Mr. Althoff, do you happen to remember Ms. Bernstein?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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