I Don’t Need Your Fake Love by Melandia

Chapter 112

The late autumn rain soaked Antonio’s face and seeped through his collar and cuffs.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, watching the car disappear from his sight.

Before long, another car pulled up. Morton, umbrella in hand, rushed over to shield Antonio from the rain.

Antonio raised his head and glanced around, his thin lips pressed tightly together. Then he headed towards the roadside.

Inside the car, the heater blew warm air in his face, gradually dispelling the chill from his body.

His rain–drenched clothes, however, still clung to his skin. They were damp and sticky, making him extremely uncomfortable.

Morton took out a set of clean clothes from the trunk, but Antonio didn’t even look at them. He just kept a straight face as he ordered the driver to start the car.

All the way, there was only the sound of breathing inside the car.

As they reached downtown, the streets grew busy. The driver braced himself to ask where they were going next.

However, after a long time, he still got no response from Antonio. He could only slow down the car and keep driving forward.

When even Morton was in a cold sweat, Antonio finally spoke, “Hotel.”

His two subordinates finally let out a long sigh of relief. Upon reaching

hotel, they escorted him to his room and

alone in the

tossed it carelessly to the floor. He then pressed the space between his eyebrows, but it did nothing

reason, Antonio. had begun to feel dissatisfied with everything

the trivial, like his daily coffee and meeting minutes, to the big, like socializing during contract negotiations and preparing

felt that there was no one to compare

his life and work, she also frequently appeared

dreamed of the replays of their past, and at other times of some absurd and fantastic adventures. In every dream,

he couldn’t bring himself to speak of, where Grace

and other times

dreams, they were husband and

he left for work. When he had a break in his work, she would send

Chapter 112

hot meal would be waiting. She would take his coat and sit arm–in–arm with

from those dreams, Antonio would lie in

dreams too often, sometimes he would zone out

wife, he would first envision a variety of appearances and personalities

regardless of the process, the final image would inexplicably

resemble Grace.

his side for so long that her sudden

that he couldn’t

heart, Antonio had been yearning for her to come back