Abigail was going to explain herself when Layla said, “She had a fight with her boyfriend. I saw them and tried to help, so I let her in.”
Mick turned to level a sharp look at Abigail. “Really?”
Abigail nodded. “Yes. It was a coincidence…”
“You know her, Mick?”
As Layla glanced between Abigail and Mick, Mick walked over to put a hand around her shoulder. “She’s Stephen Carr’s apprentice. I saw her when I met him.”
Layla’s tone became even kinder just then. “You’re a doctor?”
“Yes,” Abigail admitted.
Suddenly, Layla held her head and frowned as if in pain.
“Another headache?” Mick asked mildly.
Layla nodded.
“Let’s get you back inside for your meds.” Mick led Layla inside, then turned back to Abigail and warned, “I don’t like people who pry into my private affairs. I won’t play around if I find out that this wasn’t a coincidence!”
Abigail said, “I’m not.”
“It’d better be!” Mick snapped before shutting the door.
Still, Abigail could hear Layla from inside. “You didn’t have to be so loud. She’s just a girl.”
Mick replied, but his tone was soft. “I’m just worried about bad people.”
Abigail was under the impression that Layla was being paranoid, but Mick’s reaction made her suspicious.
It seemed that he was very paranoid about letting people get near Layla – but why? “Abigail, Abigail-”
Ricky poked his head out from behind a pillar just then, calling out to Abigail.
Abigail walked over and returned to their room with him, where he asked impatiently, ” So? Did you get anything?”
Abigail shook her head. “Nope.”
“Then we came for nothing? The room was for nothing?” Ricky groaned. “Well, I’m hungry now–buy me a nice dinner, Abigail, since I just did you a solid.”
Abigail glanced at her watch then. Seeing that it was already nine, she hurried outside. “Next time. I have to get home now–it’s very late now.”
Ricky rolled his eyes. “I’m no longer useful, huh? Anyway, what about the room?”
“You can sleep there,” Abigail replied and left.
Ricky stared at her, blinking, and decided that sleeping in a grand room like this was no loss–it would be a waste if he did not enjoy himself here.
He threw himself on the bed, his limbs spread widely when he suddenly thought of Lulu. He thus whipped out his phone to text her.
[What are you doing?]
He sent the text, and waited for a long while…
It was not until he almost fell asleep when his phone chimed, and he quickly checked it.
[Just left work.]
[This late?] Ricky quickly replied.
[Yeah. That’s my work–they call me in whenever.]
[Sounds hard. Have you had dinner yet?]
[Nope.]
Ricky sighed then- they could have had dinner together if she were in the city.
[Me neither.]
[Go eat already.]
[If only we’re closer.]
Lulu sent an emoji of a dog rolling its eyes, and joked: [I will buy you a nice dinner if you come over.]
Ricky, however, became spirited right then. [Really?]
[Really.]
Ricky suddenly found sleeping in the presidential suit not that urgent. He promptly ran out to the train station, buying the last ticket to Sunny City for the night, whereas Lulu threw her phone aside to take a bath…
Meanwhile, Abigail was rushing home, but entered to find nobody.
She was left dumbstruck–where was everyone?
“Mrs. Watson?” she called out, even as she checked the bedroom…
It was empty with no sign of anyone inside, not even Tommy.
Abigail’s heart almost leaped out of her throat just then. Where was everyone? Where had they gone?
As panic seized her, she rushed out of the door, only to see a car driving inside.
Jimmy the chauffeur alighted to open the door, and Diarmuid emerged with Tommy in his arms.
Mrs. Watson came out as well, and she was carrying several bags.
Abigail walked up to them and asked, “Where have you been?”
That was when she saw that Tommy’s cheeks were red, with his usual smile gone. In fact, he looked rather upset, and there were red circles around his eyes as if he had been crying for a while.
Sharply realizing that something was wrong, she asked, “Is Tommy sick?‘
Diarmuid simply ignored her and headed straight inside with Tommy in his arms, but Mrs. Watson walked up to her and whispered, “Tommy had a fever…”
“Mrs. Watson,” Diarmuid growled.
Mrs. Watson quickly stopped and entered the house after him, leaving Abigail pursing her lips as she followed.
As they returned to the bedroom, Diarmuid stood before the window with Tommy in his arms, while the baby tamely lay over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed and his eyelashes damp.
“He must be sleepy. I can coax him.” Abigail held out her arms, but Diarmuid simply shifted aside, keeping his distance.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized softly then. “I was going to come home early, but I was delayed. I didn’t want to be late-”
Diarmuid cut her short. “Get out if you’re done.”
Abigail was left at a loss for words.
She stood there for a while, until she quietly left the room–Tommy had to sleep, and she would have to wait before explaining herself.
Still, when Mrs. Watson found her stepping out with an ashen look, she asked, “Have you had dinner, Mrs Althoff?”
Abigail shook her head. “No.”
“I’ll make you something then,” Mrs Watson said
“You don’t have to. I’m not hungry,” Abigail replied.
Mrs. Watson sighed. “You have to understand. We were all surprised when Tommy suddenly came down with a fever, and it was like he wouldn’t stop crying. I’ve never seen Mr. Althoff being so helpless and flustered.”
Abigail hung her head. “It’s my fault.”
She had failed to care for her child as a mother and her family as a wife.
“You just have to come home earlier next time,” Mrs. Watson assured her.
“Okay,” Abigail said, and Mrs. Watson returned to her work.
Abigail was tired, and had to lean against the wall to keep standing, but it was not until over an hour later that Diarmuid stepped out.
She straightened when she heard the door open, and asked, “Is Tommy asleep?”
Diarmuid still ignored her and headed straight to their bedroom, but Abigail followed him and tried to explain, “Are you still upset? Look, I didn’t mean to be late, and I swear I’ve never cheated on you. As for Tommy, it’s my fault for not taking care of him…”
However, Diarmuid was quietly taking off his jacket, which he threw over the couch carelessly. Then, loosening his collar and unbuttoning his shirt, he suddenly said with sharp irony, “Finally done being busy?”
Abigail was left staring at him, bitterness welling in her heart.
She sniffled, suddenly wanting to cry, but she kept her eyes wide to hold back the dampness welling up in her eyes.
She did not like to cry. She understood that she had made mistakes, but she still aggrieved–what she did was not unforgivable! Why could he not give her a chance to explain?
Did he have to hurt her like this?
“What do I have to do for you to forgive me?”
She kept her voice low so that she sounded normal, but the quiver in it was unmistakable, so she soon stopped holding back and ranted, “Why are you refusing to talk to me? I know we aren’t at the point where we can trust each other unconditionally, but I’ve been working hard! I’ve even thought about it from your point of view to see what happened with Harvey Gooding, but it’s obvious he was just pranking you! Are you that faithless in me, or yourself?!”
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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