Chapter 35
Chapter 35
I never realized Bryant had such a penchant for holding grudges.
There was nothing for it but to steel myself and follow him, but before I could even attempt an explanation, Timothy turned around with a warm, welcoming smile. “Heard from Emma that you moved out, Jane?”
“Yes, Timothy.” Acknowledging it seemed the only way forward. If Grandpa got mad, I’d figure out how to smooth things over later.
But Timothy didn’t seem inclined to blow up at me. Instead, he shot Bryant an angry look, “Useless brat, you can’t even keep your wife!”
Bryant looked helpless. “Grandpa, be reasonable. It was her choice to leave. What could I do?”
“She left, and you didn’t think to go after her?” Timothy’s disappointment was palpable, “You’re just like your father. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Aren’t you the tree?” Bryant managed a small laugh.
“You bastard!” Timothy pretended to grab a coffee mug to throw at him but set it down again, struggling to find the right words. Finally, he just sighed, “Hungry. Let’s eat.”
Dinner was surprisingly harmonious. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
Timothy kept piling food onto my plate until it resembled a small mountain. “Eat up. You’ve gotten so th
thin. Need to put some meat on your bones.”
“Thanks, Timothy.” My smile was as warm as the feeling swelling in my heart.
After my parents passed, no one else took the time to fuss over my meals like this. My aunt’s family was well-off, but my uncle and cousin would subtly monitor every bite I took. at their dinner table. I loved food, but even at eight, I knew how to read the room. Every bite I took was from the vegetables.
When I looked at the bounty before me, my eyes welled up.
Timothy always had an authoritative aura but was all warmth around me. “Silly child, why the tears?”
“Nothing” shook my head, fighting back the tears with a polite smile. “You’re just so nice to me. It reminds me of my parents.”
Bryant said, “I never got to meet your parents. We should visit your home sometime…”
As Bryant glanced at me, Timothy’s face turned stern, his voice harsh, “Shut up! With how little care you’re showing, Jane’s right to dump you! She totally should!”
Bryant wanted to argue, and I interrupted, “My parents are gone.”
Bryant asked, “When did…”
“When I was eight.” I interrupted before he could ask more, not to defend him before Timothy but to avoid upsetting Timothy further
Still, there was an ache in my heart. The tears had fought back threatened to spill again.
It wasn’t his fault, after all. Timothy arranged the marriage, and Bryant was only responsible for showing up to sign the papers. It made sense that he didn’t know about my family. I consoled myself with that thought
Bryant looked stunned, a flicker of guilt passing over his face. “Sorry.”
“Sorry for what? If you’re sorry, take Jane to the cemetery someday!” Timothy spoke up.
I was about to refuse, but Bryant spoke first, earnestly, “You’re right.”
Then he turned to me, “How about this afternoon? Are you free?”
“Yeah, sure.” In front of Timothy, I didn’t want to make a scene.
And besides, Bryant probably didn’t mean it. It was likely just something to say to appease Timothy. Once Timothy left, we could go our separate ways.
That satisfied Timothy, who warned Bryant, “If you bully Jane again, and she wants a divorce, I won’t intervene. You’ve warned you!”
“Don’t worry, Timothy.” I served Timothy some stuffed bell peppers, softly saying, “He can’t bully me.”