My Gorgeous Wife is an Ex-Convict

Chapter 4

Evelyn’s face contorted with rage just as her father’s vicious slap connected with Grace’s face.

“What are you talking about!” her father screamed. “You drove a car into someone else and were locked up in jail because of it. Our entire family was shamed because of you. You don’t have a future anymore. Do you want to ruin your sister’s future as well?” His eyes were full of disgust for her.

“The one thing you did right was dating Sean Stevens and then you destroyed it all. We had so much respect from other businessmen and our relatives from that connection…”

Grace nodded, understanding that her father, Tony Cummins had been embarrassed.

Her relationship with Sean had afforded her dad the chance to claim a higher social ranking. When she fell… he did too. And her father resented her for it.

Her face burned and she knew she’d likely bear a bruise. But her expression remained calm as if she didn’t care at all.

“I originally just wanted to say a prayer for my mother—that was why you invited me back home, wasn’t it?—But now it seems there is no need for me to do it here. I won’t step foot in this house ever again.”

After saying this, Grace walked out of the house without looking back.

This place had never really been her “home,” and she should’ve stopped hoping for it to be a long time ago.

When Grace got to her apartment, the place was dark and the lights were off. When she turned on the lights, she was greeted by cold silence.

She could tell at a glance that there was no one else in the room.

Was Jason gone? Her heart suddenly felt a little empty. Which was silly, she knew. The man was a stranger. He’d helped her out, but he didn’t owe her anything, and she was very foolish to think he’d want to stay with her.

Grace let out a bitter laugh. She was alone. Again.

Something in her chest ached painfully at the thought as if acknowledging that even out of prison, she was still constricted, and destined to live out her existence without anybody.

Just as she was about to close the door, she saw a figure slowly walking towards her. She was stunned.

It was Jason.

He was still wearing those worn-out clothes of his from yesterday while he held a bag in his hand. His longish hair almost covered the entire upper part of his face, making it difficult for people to see him clearly at a glance, but she knew that under that mussed hair was a face that could easily take over people’s hearts.

If not for the clothes, she would’ve thought him an actor like her sister might work with on one of the TV series. He was that powerfully handsome.

man… was he really a

he was… why? Drugs, mental illness, violent tendencies? There were a number of causes that could set someone on the streets, and most of them carried elements of instability. She knew that taking him in like this was

humans were tribal animals after all.

voice was low and indifferent, but to her, it was the

throat suddenly felt tight. “I… I thought you

at her. “I just went out

one side, pulled him into the room, and closed the door.

felt that her whole body seemed to be much more

family abandoned her, but some homeless stranger was the one to keep her

together, but before that, I… wanted to light a candle for my Grandpa and mother. Today is the anniversary of his passing…as well

was cruel to her. Her beloved grandpa and mother died only a

candle from her bag that she’d bought on the way

of a man. The man in the photo was about sixty years old.

the candles and channeled her

kissed the photograph

job that pays well enough for me to feed myself. You can rest in peace, and in the future, I will only live a better

of him with a smile on her lips. However, her almond-shaped eyes looked misty. The light of the candle and the light of the lamp in the corner of the

pink lips. She was not

his fiancée, had been a

Grandpa’s death. He understood her to need to say some kind words and to acknowledge her Grandpa’s

she said softly. She then turned her head and looked at him. She smiled. Under the

presence in and of itself was enough to bring her joy. After a moment, she turned to look at the man in the photo again. “So, I am doing really good, grandpa. You can rest

respectfully bowed to the photo. She closed her eyes and though her lips moved, whatever words she said were between her and her grandpa or

nodded and opened her eyes. “Alright, I’ll clean up and make some soup. Let’s

“Sure,” he responded easily.

set out plates and utensils before sitting

movements matched her name—graceful. And while she didn’t hum and there was no sound in the room, there was a rhythm to her motions as if she moved

she set a pot of soup on the table between them and a plate of some egg frittata she’d mixed up with leftovers from the refrigerator, he inhaled

It smelled delicious.

profusely for the buns he’d brought back and rather than eat them

been the one to

should be

a few minutes she asked, “Jay, what kind of work did you do in the