“There are things to do, but nothing urgent. I have the time to take you to the mall…”
Turning to look at her just then, he said, “Or maybe you want my company?”
Abigail stayed quiet, more or less allowing it.
Diarmuid took her to the most bustling street at the heart of the city, where luxury brands across the world set up their exclusive stores.
Abigail had never shopped there before and she never liked luxury items anyway-it would only get in her way given her profession, so all she had was a watch to keep the time.
After Diarmuid parked his car, he walked around it to her, taking her hand and saying, “I saw how empty your wardrobe is. Time for you to stock up.”
“I’m poor. You’re paying,” Abigail joked.
Diarmuid turned toward her, amused. “My stuff is yours, no?”
Any woman would love to hear such sweet words, and Abigail was no exception.
Linking arms with him then, she joked, “Swear it.”
“Swear what?” Diarmuid asked, feigning seriousness.
Abigail quickly shoved him aside. “Fine. Stay away from me.”
Diarmuid simply slid up to her and gathered her in his arms, leaning in, and whispered in his magnetic voice, “I swear.”
His breath sprayed over her neck as he spoke, tickling her.
Abigail shrunk her neck into her shoulders and shot him a glare.
Diarmuid simply smiled at her blushing face and reached out to pinch her cheek.
Abigail slapped it away. “That hurts.”
“Should I be gentler?” Diarmuid asked.
“Don’t touch me,” Abigail warned. “Mess with me again, and it’s the couch for you tonight.”
They played and joked like a couple madly in love, and Diarmuid eventually led her to a Chanel store. “Let’s check it out.”
Abigail stopped him. “It’s fine…”
“I’m paying.” Diarmuid simply put a hand around her shoulder and led her inside.
He was a little guilty since they have been together for so long, but he never gave her any presents.
“We’re buying anything you want,” he said seriously.
Abigail pursed her lips, and leaned against him-she felt more secure the closer she was to him.
While Diarmuid was helping her pick something fitting, a salesgirl approached them, saying, “These are for display purposes. We can bring you a new one if you need it.”
Having lived with Abigail for a while now, he noticed that everything she wore was either casual or comfortable, never fashionable.
Still, casual wear did fit her a lot, since she still retained her youthful vigor like a fresh college graduate!
Then, spotting a monochromatic checkered dress, he thought that it would fit her and so, he said, “This too.”
The salesgirl studied Abigail for a moment, and quickly came up with the right size. “A moment, please-l will get the dress for you to try out now.” The changing room was separate from the racks and the
privacy was ensured, just as there was a small lounge nearby, with confectionery available for customers who were waiting for their friends.
Diarmuid took a seat at the couch, and Abigail quickly tried it out.
He certainly knew her well-especially with regards to what suited her.
Naturally, everything he picked suited her, with the sizes being just right as well.
However, when the salesgirl helped Abigail with her collar, she flinched and stumbled backward when she saw the scars that stretched from Abigail’s face down her neck.
Realizing what happened, Abigail quickly hid her face.
The salesgirl soon realized what had happened and apologized. “I’m so sorry.”
Abigail simply returned into her changing room and changed back into her clothes before returning to Diarmuid. “Let’s go.”
She did not like people seeing her scars, or the fact that she scared people.
Diarmuid scowled and threw the salesgirl a cool look. “We’ll take everything.”
Knowing that she was being impolite, the salesgirl quickly tidied the clothes and packed everything.
Aware that Abigail did not like being given weird looks, Diarmuid quickly paid and left with Abigail, gathering her in his arms when they arrived somewhere quiet.
He brushed her hair, straightening it while quietly assuring her, “You’re not ugly. Don’t mind those weird looks.”
“I just wished I wasn’t scary,” she said flatly.
Her family and acquaintances were used to it and they naturally would not give her weird looks, but she knew that her scars would spook any stranger.
Diarmuid was devastated. “Let’s get you home. I’ll have someone buy Tommy’s clothes.”
Abigail nodded.
Things had been pleasant, but the salesgirl’s reaction reminded Abigail of her disfigurement, and her mood to shop vaporized.
Bzzt-
Diarmuid’s phone rang just then, and he picked it up to see that it was a call from the private investigator he hired.
“I caught the trail of Kim Sherwood. I’ll find her in a couple days if there’s no surprises.”
Diarmuid’s chin stiffened. “Call me right away when you have something.”
“Of course.”
Hanging up, Diarmuid was going to Abigail when he noticed her staring nearby distractedly.
He followed her gaze and his expression darkened when he saw the person nearby!
Abigail was scowling.
“He just married her days ago and he has a baby now?”
Diarmuid was suspicious too, and they both were wondering if the baby Harvey Gooding was holding was theirs.
After all, Harvey had always been hostile toward Diarmuid, and he now felt the same toward Abigail as well because of how she kept rejecting him.
Given his style, he would have kidnapped their child in retaliation.
Abigail was agitated that she was going to run up and interrogate him-she could not stay calm where her child was concerned.
However, Diarmuid caught her. “Calm down.”
“That child might be ours! How could I stay calm?!” Abigail snapped impatiently.
“Abigail,” he reasoned softly. “Even if you asked, he won’t admit it-“
“Yo!” Harvey spotted them just then, and was starting towards them, even holding up the child he was holding as if flaunting.
“I have a kid now too,” he told Diarmuid provokingly. “But you don’t look too happy. What, am I an eyesore just because I have a son now?”
“Your son? Just days after you got married? What, are you capable of mitosis?!” Abigail glared at her. “If you have a problem, come after me!”
Harvey’s gaze twitched, but he kept smiling. “What are you talking about? I don’t get it.”
Abigail did not waste her breath and lunged forward to grab the baby!
Harvey, however, noticed her move and dodged her. “What, are you trying to abduct my son in public?”
“Is he really yours?” Abigail did not hide her suspicions at all!
“What, are you trying to say he’s yours?” Havey laughed. “Actually, I wish, but you’d refuse to have one with me-“
Before Harvey could finish, he was punched heavily in the face and sent stumbling backward, almost falling over.
He licked the blood off his lips and glared coolly at Diarmuid. “Oh, did that upset you?”
Diarmuid stood towering like an unshakeable mountain, his dark pupils sinister and bloodthirsty. “I’ll kill you.”
Harvey simply chuckled and kept provoking him. “What, are you going to do that right here? In public?”
“Shut up!” Abigail snapped at him while quickly moving to stop Diarmuid, fearful that he would punch Harvey again and accidentally hit the baby Harvey was holding.
Harvey gave her a long, pointed look and said, “I told you-you will regret this, Abigail Bernstein.”
With that, he strode off.
Both of them calmed down later-arguing would never get them anywhere anyway.
“A paternity test, and we’d know if the baby is hours,” Abigail said, turning toward Diarmuid just then. “Is there a way to get the baby’s hair or blood samples?”
“Yeah,” Diarmuid replied-he could do it in no time at all, too.
He called James Cross, who answered solemnly for receiving new orders so quickly. “Yes?”
Diarmuid told him everything, while instructing, “See to it personally. No mistakes this time.”
“You have nothing to worry about, sir!”
Still, Diarmuid appeared grim as he hung up, even as Abigail calmed down.” Something’s wrong, Diarmuid. I can feel it.”
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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