Facade of Love

Chapter 63 Mom Wants Us to Get a Divorce

If possible, my mother probably never wanted to see these two again in her lifetime.

Hearing what I said, Idris pursed his l*ps and began to speak. “On the day of the funeral…”

“Ahhh!” Suddenly, a scream echoed from upstairs.

Without finishing his sentence, Idris dashed upstairs.

I stood there, unable to help but smile bitterly. Idris‘ reactions were extremely attuned to Moore’s needs.

Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I followed upstairs. On the corridor, Moore was screaming in Idris‘ arms, her voice sounding panicked, “Iddy, there’s a thief in the house!”

The thief she was referring to was, of course, Maxwell, who was wearing only a towel and had most of his b*dy exposed. Startled by her exaggerated reaction, he opened his mouth awkwardly, attempting to explain.

Seeing me behind them, he came over to me, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I just wanted to ask if you had a hairdryer. I didn’t expect other people to be in the house.”

reaction and Idris‘ darkened face. I did not say much except to

a hairdryer for Maxwell, and handed it to him. After taking the hairdryer, Maxwell looked at Moore leaning on Idris, then at Idris‘ stern face, and then at me. He twitched the comer of his mouth and said, “This relationship seems a bit

look and said, “Go dry

said, “Mr. Young, if I say that the reason I’m bathing here and un–dressed like this is due to a

believe me?”

at him unflinchingly with a stern face. He did not say a word, but the murderous intent

futile. He shrugged and said, “Never mind

Maxwell entered the bedroom, Moore reluctantly stood up straight from Idris‘ arms and looked at me, saying, “Yvette, how can you just

you. Also, Mr. Sanchez has a great physique. If you want to look, you can do

Moore was so agitated she almost jumped up

her and

asking, “Why did you bring Maxwell Sanchez

is my house. Do I need

so shameless,” Moore said, as if she had caught me in the act. “Bringing a man home to stay the night, and you’re even pregnant. How could

my mother, carrying a cardboard box. She entered the hall, glaring at Moore with suppressed anger. “Who let you in?

face softened somewhat, and she said to my