The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 338

Chapter 338

"McNeil, do you remember what it felt like when I used to wait for you at home?" Victoria's voice was calm, almost distant, as he gripped her wrist. Her eyes were empty, unfocused.

"What are you talking about?"

She looked at him with a mild indifference. "Have you ever waited for someone, McNeil? Really waited?"

He froze. Until tonight, he had never experienced that feeling.

He had never waited for her. He kept her at home, and no matter when he returned, he always found a devoted wife waiting. If he wanted to see her, she'd always be there, keeping their home warm and inviting.

But now, she shrugged off his grasp, mirroring the coldness and indifference he'd once shown her.

"I'm not going to argue about tonight. I made money, and I'm happy-why shouldn't I be? You have no right to interfere with my life, McNeil."

A wave of frustration surged in his chest. He clenched and unclenched his fists,

but when faced with her accusation, he found himself at a loss for words.

The ride home was silent. It was late, and Gwyneth was already asleep.

Xenia was still up, waiting for them.

She watched as the couple entered, one after the other. Mrs. Langford's face was icy cold, but Mr. Langford looked even worse. He didn't have his usual air of dominance; instead, there was something wounded and resentful about him—a look Xenia had never seen before, as if he was frustrated by his wife's indifference.

It used to be the other way around. Mrs. Langford would wait for her husband at home, or go out searching for him. But tonight, everything was different. Victoria was dressed strikingly, full of energy, while McNeil looked as if he'd had to drag her home against her will.

couldn't make sense

went upstairs,

together. Victoria opened the wardrobe,

a shower, while McNeil sat

bathroom door, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

lighter several times, but

finally managing to light the cigarette, though

bathed in moonlight. By the time he returned inside, Victoria was

didn't disturb her. He simply sat alone, awake through

next morning, McNeil

Xenia had already set

"Good morning, Mrs. Langford."

at the table-just one place setting. There was no trace

McNeil had left

quietly and

still early, but the house was

Langford took her with him. He got up before dawn, and little Gwyneth wasn't happy

"I see."

took a sip of her simple, nourishing soup and made no

on schedule, to teach Victoria. Oddly enough, McNeil was even more punctual than when he was working at Vertex Dynamics-he never missed a

would catch sight of McNeil and

not going to do anything inappropriate. But can't you let us have

was comically miserable. What should have taken two weeks to teach, he was cramming into seven days, desperate to finish as quickly as possible. He no longer played video games, just wrote lesson plans day and night,

had been five days already. In two more, he'd

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