Chapter 145

Maureen watched their retreating figures, a sudden longing to experience romance washing

over her.

Ever since falling for Geoffrey, she’d rejected every other suitor. She’d married without ever dating, never knowing love’s sweetness.

Tilting her face toward the inky darkness, tears welled up in Maureen’s eyes. Silently, she whispered, “Dad… I regret it.”

Regretted marrying Geoffrey. Regretted choosing a man who didn’t love her with such certainty.

8:30 PM. The fireworks ended.

The crowd dispersed.

When Wayne drove up to fetch Maureen, he found her standing alone by the riverbank–a solitary figure against the water.

His fiancee’s words from two days ago echoed: If you love someone, give them security. How could another woman threaten what you share?

For a moment, genuine pity stirred within him.

Pulling over, he approached her.

“Ms. Ramirez, I’m here to take you home.”

Maureen slowly turned. The sorrow in her eyes vanished, replaced by polite detachment. “Thank you.”

She slid into the car.

Wayne deliberately turned up the car’s heater.

Though Maureen’s health had improved abroad these years, she remained too thin compared to others. Especially after cold winds, her face turned alarmingly pale, as if she might collapse at any gust.

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Wayne watched her in the rearview mirror while driving, explaining on Geoffrey’s behalf:

care at the hospital. She says she wants

Die–hard fan…

a bitter smile. If Geoffrey investigated just a

Maureen didn’t believe

was still held by Gareth–where would

likely her own

“Hmm.”

paused. “I know. He

breathed a

so long, he’d truly noticed his boss had fallen for Maureen. Why else search

belongings…

it. If he loved

as Maureen stared blankly out

They finally reached Pearl.

hadn’t returned yet. Perfect

been these

Katherine answered the phone.

connected lately, as Maureen had been tied

a brief update, omitting how Geoffrey abandoned her by the

little guy’s been heading to bed early

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disturb him if he’s

“Alright.”

After eavesdropping on their conversation,

Grandpa’s keepsake. Still, I need to hustle harder so Mommy won’t ever worry about

skilled with computers, scraping together billions remained daunting for

digits on his screen. Just a few million? How could he ever earn enough

real money–making schemes were written

books.

flew across

own dad’s

just getting child

Pearl

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