“Zoey,” his voice carried a hint of surprise as he quickly approached.

“What are you doing here? Have you had one too many? Lettake you home.”

Zoey's mind was sluggish in responding, but she recognized the voice clearly - it was Murray.

She frowned, pushing him away. But her efforts were feeble, barely a nudge against Murray's frame, almost seeming coquettish in

her resistance.

Murray immediately shed his own jacket, draping it over her shoulders, “Where's your coat? It's freezing out here, and you're

dressed so light.”

Back when he and Zoey were an item, all he thought was how dull she was, always working herself to the bone for money.

They'd been together for seven years, and her mantra had been about saving up to buy their own place.

Murray used to think she was ludicrous. Who would want to buy property in pricey Greenfield by their own means? Most women

dreamed of marrying a Greenfield guy - housing and cars sorted in one swoop.

Whenever he chdrunk, she'd have a hangover cure ready - soup or whatever comfort food she could whip up, no matter

the tof night.

Now, with Evelyn as his wife, no matter how late he rolled in, not only was there no soup, but there'd also be a tongue-lashing for

waking her up.

family, thriving in business, and with Evelyn keeping him

of the day - he realized how good he'd had it with Zoey.

“Zoey, are you cold?”

her hands, warming them with his breath, “There's a hotel just around the

I won't lay

up straight, pushing

hardened as he fastened the buttons on

“Have we really becstrangers?”

though her drunken state

lips as he thought about the rumors

bad-mouthing

it's true. I was the one who made the move,” Zoey said coldly,

back.

was drowning

loans. I had to take

in his heart. That house was supposed

as a mistress. He was so

him. And she had

he lacked for nothing, “Zoey, think about what

month?”

he tucked a stray lock

have to work those public gigs anymore. I'll take care of you. And once you have

do

anger or something else, Zoey suddenly felt sober. She looked

she remembered.

believe she had wasted seven years of her life on

argue. Meanwhile, Fitch stood nearby with a bottle of water,

standoff by the column.

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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