The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate

Chapter 57

Sophia gave a slight nod, “Mhm.”

Then she looked up at him, “I’m really sorry.”

She meant it, was genuinely apologizing. She hadn’t thought it through at the time. She was just fixated on the fact that Brandon was on the hunt for Yolanda, and they had finally gotten a lead. It’d be a shame to let that slip away.

She’d known Brandon for years and sort of got the gist of his personality. He might not have the guts to ask those question straight up. So, she figured, why not give him a little nudge in the right direction?

But Brandon’s expression didn’t soften one bit at her apology.

He just looked at her evenly, “You seem pretty keen on me finding Yolanda, huh?”

Sophia was puzzled, “Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting and doing all along?”

Brandon shot her a look and clammed up.

The more puzzled and sincere she looked, the more he felt like he had a lump in his throat. How indifferent must she be to be so gung-ho about helping him find another woman?

“Let’s drop that subject.”

In the end, Brandon closed the topic with that single line.

Sophia obediently nodded, “Okay.”

She didn’t bring up anything about Marian and Yolanda again, and when they got back to the hotel, she headed straight to her bedroom. Brandon watched the door close, stared at it for a good while, trying to squash the emotions bubbling up inside him, and then he finally looked away and went to his own room.

He knew he should be thrilled about getting news of Yolanda.

Every single question Sophia had asked earlier was a roundabout way of helping him confirm whether Marian was Yolanda.

The bracelet he had given her as a child that she still wore, the matching ages, every piece of her story seemed to fit Yolanda perfectly.

The person he had felt guilty about for over a decade was right there in front of him. He should be over the moon.

But he felt no joy or excitement. Every answer from Marian felt like a heavy stone thrown at his chest, weighing him down.

The more Marian’s story matched Yolanda’s, the less likely it seemed that Sophia could be Yolanda.

Brandon even started to second-guess himself, wondering if calling Martin over was a mistake.

Once Martin arrived, whether Marian was Yolanda could be confirmed with a paternity test report.

Once confirmed, there’d be no overturning it or fooling oneself.

For the first time, Brandon felt the urge to backpedal on finding out Yolanda’s true identity.

“What will you do if I am her? And what if I’m not?”

Sophia’s earlier retort echoed in his ears, and Brandon frowned. He’d never really pondered these questions that now demanded to be dealt with head-on.

What would he do if Sophia wasn’t Yolanda?

What could he do?

He feared that by then, it wouldn’t be up to him to decide what to do, but that Sophia would have already made her choice.

Suddenly, Brandon was scared to take that gamble.

Especially not now, when things between him and Sophia were still up in the air, and the kid’s destiny was unknown.

Eventually, Brandon dialed Martin back.

“Don’t come to Wye City tomorrow. It might’ve just been a mix-up on my part, he said, his voice calm and composed, as he pressed the phone to his ear.

Martin, awakened for the second time, sounded irritated, “You got it wrong?” NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

“No, you’re always careful, aren’t you? You never jump to conclusions without being sure, Martin replied, his anger subsiding as he regained his composure, not letting Brandon off the hook so easily. “What happened?”

“Nothing, Brandon replied, just as calmly, “I just think it’s necessary to do some more digging first.”

That’s not necessary, Martin cut him off, “Whether she’s my sister or not, a DNA report will settle it.”

Brandon was silent for a moment. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

Martin frowned, “What do you mean?”

“She does have a story similar to Yolanda’s, the age fits, she even has the bracelet I gave her back then. But I just have this gut feeling, she’s not Yolanda.”

Martin was speechless.

“I’ve never known you to make decisions based on gut feelings,” Martin said, getting up, “I thought you only believed in data and

evidence.”

He and Brandon had known each other for over two decades, and Brandon had never been one to trust anything intangible, including gut feelings. He believed in his judgment.

Without offering an explanation, Brandon said, “If she really is Yolanda, don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere.”

Brandon,” Martin went silent for a moment and then hit the nail on the head, “What are you afraid of?”

Brandon didn’t respond.

“If you’re worried that finding Yolanda will force you to honor some childhood marriage promise, then don’t be. Those jokes we made as kids, no one takes them seriously. We’ll respect Yolanda’s wishes.”

“It’s not about that,” Brandon flatly denied.

But Martin wasn’t letting it go. “Then what is it?”

“I can’t accept her being Yolanda.”

Martin was left speechless.

An unexpected answer.

Whether Yolanda was Yolanda, who Yolanda could be, or even what Yolanda looked like, none of it could be changed by anyone’s will.

Martin thought Brandon knew this.

“Has she changed so much that she’s hard to accept?” That was the only possibility Martin could think of because if it wasn’t a drastic change, he couldn’t fathom what else would make a usually rational man say something so irrational.

“No.”

Martin said, “Then why?”

“I can’t explain,” Brandon stood up, paced over to the window, and looked out at the lights of a thousand homes, “I just don’t think she’s worth you flying here for. She can’t be Yolanda.”

The certainty in his voice made Martin on the other end of the phone ponder for a moment.

“Sure thing.” Eventually, Martin on the other end of the phone line gave in. “I trust your judgment.”

When it came to whether a girl was Yolanda, Brandon’s gut was sharper than anyone else’s in their family.

Martin wasn’t sure if it was sheer coincidence or if Brandon had developed a keen sense that was different from theirs due to his childhood interactions with Yolanda.

Over the years, as they grew up, Brandon had always been spot-on with his identification. Whenever they caught wind of something about Yolanda and went to verify it, he could tell at first glance whether

the person was Yolanda, even if they bore a resemblance to her as a child.

And every single time, the results proved that Brandon was right.

If he said it wasn’t her, it was a sure bet it wasn’t.

That’s why, despite numerous leads and faces they’d come across over the years, not one turned out to be the real Yolanda. “Just hit me up the moment there’s any progress,” Martin reminded him. “I’m not so swamped that I can’t make a trip to Wye City.”

“Got it,’ Brandon replied, but he didn’t hang up immediately. Instead, he turned slightly, letting his gaze linger for a moment on the doorway to Sophia’s room. “When you get a chance, send over a sample of your hair, will ya?”