Chapter 82

“Kevin, hit the gas! Drive Mrs. Ferguson home,” he tossed the words over his shoulder before slamming the car door shut.

Kevin didn’t hesitate, sliding into the driver’s seat, “My apologies, Mrs. Ferguson.”

With a click, the doors locked.

All I could do was watch helplessly as Bryant walked away, slipping into his bodyguard’s sleek car.

The engines roared to life, and as the traffic light flicked colors, our cars veered off in completely different directions.

Just like Bryant and 1, perhaps never meant to walk the same path.

I slumped into the seat, drained and disheveled, my mind a whirlwind of chaos.

Why bother?

I’ve given him and Margaret

Bryant, what do you really want?

, asking for nothing in return. Isn’t that enough

Kevin drove on, stealing glances at me, and ventured cautiously, “You know, Mrs. Ferguson, there’s no need to go to war with Mr. Ferguson. After all, you are Mrs. Ferguson. Margaret shouldn’t weigh so heavily on your mind.”

“Kevin.”

lips, “Do you also think that having the title of Mrs. Ferguson should be enough

Ferguson tends to respond better to a softer

right-hand man; it’s natural you’d

might not understand, but being Mrs. Ferguson in name only

be his wife – not just in name, but

You want

at the bustling streets, perhaps afraid of pity, I

hasn’t Mr. Ferguson’s

1/3

you say?”

noise outside muffled his words, “Gone

out of turn, and quickly denied, “Nothing,

I was puzzled.

I didn’t press

and

of him would

was safely

the door behind me, chuckling bitterly at myself.

in shambles was one thing, but now, even

surveillance.

early, prepared myself a hearty breakfast, filling

common knowledge within the

I passed the

jealousy… all kinds of

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