Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 64

He hauled his suitcase downstairs, his departure imminent. Megan’s delicate, fair fingers gently tugged at the hem of his shirt. Tears bordered on spilling from her eyes.

But Sullivan had no intentions of staying, simply because he didn’t love Megan. Despite her pleas, he got into the car and drove away Helf spent roughly a week in Harmony City- the same week Cressida underwent her first leg surgery, the same week the media uncovered his affair with Cressida, and the same week rumors of his marital infidelity first surfaced.

When Sullivan retumed from his business trip, Megan didn’t bring up her family problems. She did what she always did–unpacked his luggage, ran his bathwater. After his shower, Sullivan took her to bed twice. It was the most silent they had ever been during intimacy. neither made a sound. Megan buried her face in the pillow, stifling the pleasure, refusing to let any moans escape her.

She felt guilty

Afterward, he leaned against the headboard, lighting up a cigarette.

In a soft voice, Megan mentioned she needed money. Sullivan turned to look at her for a moment before writing her a check. It had been over a year, but Sullivan still remembered vividly how Megan’s fingers trembled, barely able to hold onto that check. He thought that must have been the moment Megan’s feelings for him died- no love, no fondness. From that moment on, longer Sullivan’s dear wife, but Mrs. Lowry,

A knock at the door jolted Sullivan from his reverie.

The maid’s voice called out, “The meal is ready, sir. Will you be dining now?”

she was no

lingering on the last line of the diary before him- the final entry penned by Megan, a simple yet deafening sentence in

will never

over

cigarette but didn’t light it, contemplating

say your mother wishes to see Mrs. Lowry, asking when you might bring her

brought up the earlier conversation, adding, “Today is Mrs. Lowry’s birthday! Normally, the household would prepare a special meal

paused, chopsticks in mid–air.

Megan’s birthday?” he asked.

blurted out. “Yes,

and his notoriety for lavishing attention

offered no reprimand.

“Go to the kitchen and