Diarmuid was in the photo, along with Kathy!
They were standing outside a hospital ward, with Kathy holding the hem of Diarmuid’s jacket–he had turned around, so his expression could not be seen.
Abigail did not flip out when she saw the photo, since the fact that she was sent it made one thing clear: someone wanted her to see it.
Their objective was also obvious–they wanted a misunderstanding between her and Diarmuid.
Thus, Abigail refused to jump to conclusions and decided to listen to what Diarmuid had to say instead.
Though she blackened the screen and turned to look outside the car, her mood soured by the minute.
Suddenly, she seemed to forget entirely about Ricky. The photo was all she could think about.
Although the rational part of her mind insisted that someone was deliberately attempting to drive a wedge between her and Diarmuid, the emotional side of her mind was still worried.
After all, Kathy was beautiful… And why was she tugging at Diarmuid’s clothes?
Nonetheless, she was soon back at Rose Garden.
Tommy was wide awake, and Mrs. Watson was carrying him around the living room.
Abigail washed her hands before taking Tommy off Mrs. Watson, and the baby nestled against her collarbone, as if knowing that she was his mother.
Abigail’s heart almost melted right then. She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek as warmth unfurled in her heart.
Life was indeed a miracle.
She played with Tommy for some time. Though he eventually got hungry, he fell asleep halfway through his bottle of milk.
Abigail tucked him in his crib. In the evening, she headed to the kitchen.
Mrs. Watson was already there. “You don’t have to come, ma’am. Just leave this to me.”
Abigail smiled. “I wanted to cook tonight. I think Diarmuid will come back soon.”
Mrs. Watson was naturally smart enough to catch Abigail’s hint that she wanted to cook for Diarmuid, and so quickly said, “I’ll help.”
“I’m fine on my own,” Abigail insisted.
“I’ll take care of the laundry, then.” Mrs. Watson finally left the kitchen.
Abigail worked alone, and was done after ninety minutes- just in time for dinner.
Diarmuid had yet to return when the last dish was completed, however, and Abigail took out her phone. She wanted to call him and ask if he would be late, but just as she hesitated, she heard the front door opening.
She walked over and found Diarmuid entering, wearing the same jacket Kathy had been tugging on in the picture.
Nonetheless, Abigail smiled. “Hey.”
Diarmuid looked up at her in turn.
She had tied up her hair into a ponytail and wore a simple white T–shirt matched with blue jeans, with an apron tied around her slender waist.
It was a simple and modest getup, but perfect in his eyes.
The air suddenly seemed rife with hormones.
“Hey,” he replied.
“Go wash your hands–dinner’s ready.” Abigail said as she returned to the kitchen, and brought the food to the dining table, even setting down fork and knives as Diarmuid entered.
She sat down in front of him after he did, and popped a bottle of beer for him, pouring it for her.
Diarmuid raised a brow. “Did something good happen?”
“Not really,” Abigail replied. “Just wanted to drink with you.”
She was perfect to Diarmuid in every way.
Taking the bottle off her hands, he said, “I’ll do the honors.”
Abigail pursed her lips. “My mom just told me that she thinks we should get married in October. I sort of agree since we’ve really been busy lately–we should wait until things settle down before we tie the knot. We’re in no rush, anyway.”
Diarmuid was quiet for a while, but eventually agreed. “Yeah.”
Now was certainly not the time to tie the knot. They were already living like a married couple, anyway.
Taking Abigail’s hand in his, Diarmuid said, “Is there anything you want? I can give it to you.”
Abigail giggled, “Don’t worry. I’ll get my one pound of flesh.”
Then, she steered the conversation away while acting casual, asking, “Where have you been today?”
“The office, of course.” Diarmuid grinned, since she rarely asked him about his whereabouts. “What, worried about me?”
“Of course. I was worried you’d have an affair,” Abigail replied.
Diarmuid chuckled softly in amusement.
Abigail shot him a glare. “What’s so funny?”
“I just liked it that you asked. That’s all,” he replied.
Abigail was left speechless for a moment, and then suddenly remembered something else.
“I’ve put together an agreement to hand Bernstein Holdings over to Ricky. He’s alone now that Samantha’s gone, and I hope that the company would encourage him to keep himself together–maybe he’d forget his misery if he’s busy.”
She thought it necessary to Diarmuid.
They had now decided to live together, and be involved in each others‘ lives–that meant honesty, and no secrets!
Diarmuid put down his fork at the mention of Ricky–the issue with Kathy had delayed his visit to the hospital. Actually, I’ve just realized something. The person who texted me and lured me to Samantha’s body wanted me there, so that they could frame me as Samantha’s killer. Did Ricky tell you anything when he visited you today?”
Abigail came to a realization right there and then.
So Ricky was acting weird because he thought Diarmuid was involved with Samantha’s death?
Was that why he seemed to want Abigail to pick a side between them?
“I’ll talk to him, or he’d really think that you did it,” Abigail said, considerably cheerful now that things came to light about Ricky’s weird behavior.
Hold on…
She had other serious business!
Resting her chin on her palm and staring at Diarmuid, she slowly asked, “Have you been around a woman today?”
Diarmuid was sharp enough to get what she really meant, and looked up to return her gaze. “What is it you’re asking?”
“Just a question,” she smiled, while nonchalantly fiddling with the cell phone she left on the table.
She did not want to tell him about the photo–instead, she wanted him to take the initiative to be honest.
Moreover, he would certainly understand after she was being so direct, wouldn’t he?
Naturally, Diarmuid quickly noticed that she was testing him.
“Yeah.”
“Who?” Abigail asked in reflex.
“Ian Althoff’s mother.”
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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