Chapter 134
Memories can be a real thorn in the side.
If anyone else had uttered those words today, Elysia might have coped a little better.
But of course, it had to be that rogue!
Ariger and resentment churned within her as she fumed internally–what right did he have to judge her? By what right could he point fingers when he was the architect of her misery?
Yet, her rage was tempered by the nagging doubt that he might not be the rogue who fathered her children. If she was wrong about him, then hurling insults his way would only make her the guilty party.
She was tormented by this lose–lose mental struggle, feeling utterly wretched.
It seemed as though, no matter what, she was always in the wrong.
Her life had been a tragedy from the start, and now, six years later, the tragic narrative, persisted.
Her marriage to Tarquin was a shambles, never finalized.
And then there was this man who very well could be the father of her children, with no proof but suspicions galore. To make matters worse, she had somehow ended up owing him a staggering fifty million dollars.
Years had passed, and upon their reunion, she should have been the one to slap some sense into him. But what happened? She ended up being the one firmly in his grasp! Being manipulated was bad enough, but he had the nerve to mock her for being unfaithful.
Oh, the irony!
face down their past with secret skills and wealth aplenty. They’d be the rich, powerful ladies,
fatales!
at her, also returning with children in tow, yet still
downtrodden.
in her life, turning into tales of male dominance. Her husband had morphed into the mighty CEO of the Bradford Group,
alleged bankruptcy, he
a mess, unchanged and unchallenged. Six years wasted in a
turn the tables.
1/2
09-565
a hidden corner, alternating
phone buzzed. It was a
and
cherubic, rosy–cheeked faces squeezed in front of
softened. “What are you munchkins up to?”
breakfast, and Blossom said she’s taking
listen to
sitting outside by
just waiting for
is all red, and your eyes too…”
mustered a
got watery eyes, and they tear up with the wind, and then I rubbed them, so they got red. Don’t worry, my darlings. The bus is almost here, so I can’t talk long. You go on to preschool
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