I was thrilled when I heard him regard Emma as someone he disliked. I wasn’t supposed to gloat over others’ misfortune, but I just couldn’t help it.

Whenever Michael was around me, time would pass by in the blink of an eye. It felt as if nothing else mattered as long as Michael was there for me.

In the upcoming few days, Mom stopped bothering me. Emma had stopped showing up to pick on me as well. I thought that would be the end of the incident, but that was very naïve of me.

When I was on my way to the supermarket to buy the ingredients for dinner after getting off work, a luxury car pulled over in front of me and got in my way.

I arched my brows in confusion. The moment I tried to get past the car, the passenger wound down the window. A woman in her late-forties had her eyes glued to me.

She had dolled herself up with all sorts of designer items. It was safe to assume she was a member of the upper echelon.

When she caught me staring at her, she started scrutinizing me in return. A few seconds later, she popped a question, “Anna Garcia?”

Startled by the fact she knew my name, I asked, “Huh? Do you know me?”

Who is she? Are we acquainted by any chance?

I tried my best to recall the time we encountered one another, but my effort was to no avail as I was certain we weren’t acquainted.

Instead of answering my query, she brought up something else and suggested with a deadpan look, “Ms. Garcia, care to join me for a cup of coffee?”

She was able to carry herself in an elegant manner befitting a member of the upper echelon throughout the conversation.

“I’m so sorry for being rude, but do you mind introducing yourself? I don’t think we’re acquainted by any means.”

her request to join her for a cup of coffee as I

have soon enough. There’s a café that’s just around

short while later, the car was pulled over in front of

no avail. After all, a country bumkin like me couldn’t possibly be acquainted with someone from

ended up accepting the offer and making my way to

seat and

over. There was something odd about her. Thus, I couldn’t stop

broke the silence and asked, “Ms. Garcia, what would

the emotions associated with the question due to her

with a confused look, “Why don’t you go ahead and answer my

Josephine Blackwood. Michael’s

the

mother? Why has she

was all over the place after I figured out her identity. I was afraid to look at her in

meet you, Mrs.

to me, “Ms. Garcia, forgive me for being blunt, but are you in some sort of relationship

as I couldn’t be sure

“I…”

at a loss for

a relationship with someone else? Emma is

Josephine carried on with the conversation in

ordinary conversation, but it was evident that her statements were double innuendos—she had indicated she wanted me to

was safe to assume she had misperceived me as

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