Michael had showered me with so much love these days that I could not help but think of this period as the most blissful time of my life. I had just set foot beyond the main gates of our development when a black Mercedes-Benz drove up to me and stopped, blocking my path.

I frowned slightly, displeased at the driver’s manners. Since I was in an excellent mood, I decided to let it go and walk around the car. Suddenly, the back window of the car was lowered. I was Josephine inside the car. Her unannounced visit made my heart sink.

I had a bad feeling about this. Josephine had been vocal about her objections to Michael’s relationship with me. She was undoubtedly here to pursue her agenda of destroying our relationship. She must be getting anxious now that our wedding is near.

Regardless of how unsettled I felt at her appearance, I forced myself to approach the open car window and greet her politely. “Hello, Mrs. Shaw.” I had never treated Josephine with anything less than respect, yet despite my best efforts, her icy demeanor toward me never thawed. Josephine glanced at me coolly before shifting her gaze to stare ahead.

“Ms. Garcia, I’d like to speak with you about some matters. Shall we have our conversation here or do you think we should talk somewhere else?” She said all this somewhat casually, yet I felt chills down my spine.

to my house. However, the thought of being cooped up in the house alone with Josephine stressed me out. I looked at my surroundings;

I were married, she would be my mother-in-law, and I

got some pretty choice words for our conversation. “Drive,” she ordered her driver instead of replying to

she could say would make me leave Michael. That did not mean that I desired Josephine’s blessing any less. No one wants to enter their marriage on the wrong foot with the husband’s mother. By the time I got to the café, Josephine was already waiting at a table. I took a deep breath to steel myself before taking a seat opposite her. “Mrs. Shaw, would you like something to drink?” I

spared the briefest of glances for me before saying, “You know this place best. You can order a drink for me.” On the surface, Josephine’s words seemed like an olive branch of sorts, yet the only thing they did was to deepen my sense

drink would worsen her already poor impression of me. “A cup of Blue Mountain coffee, please.” I

nerves. My ignorance about her taste and coffee in general put me in a dilemma. In the end, I ordered

silent the whole time. I followed suit, unsure of what to say to break the silence. She used a teaspoon to gently stir the coffee before raising

slightly, sending alarm bells going off in my head. “Ms. Garcia, what do you think of their Blue Mountain coffee? Is it nice?” Josephine placed

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