The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 567

How could he even ask that? Was he genuinely curious, or just looking for a way to mock him?

Hawthorne slowed his pace, a restless energy radiating off him. Gwyneth noticed, glancing at him with a puzzled look.

Their eyes met, and the hatred burning in Hawthorne's gaze gradually faded.

"She passed away many years ago," he said at last, forcing down all emotion until his tone turned calm and steady.

After all, it was McNeil who'd tried to wipe out the Everhart family back then. Hawthorne knew the Langfords and the Everharts had once been close, even friends. What he couldn't understand was why McNeil had chosen such ruthless tactics.

Thorpe let out a heavy sigh. "So many people from our past have gone. And somehow, I'm the useless old man left behind."

Some old memory seemed to flicker in Thorpe's expression, a hint of sorrow crossing his wrinkled face. He nodded, eyes resting on Hawthorne.

"If I live long enough to make it back to Greenvale," Thorpe said quietly, "take me

to see your grandfather's memorial. The old friends haven't seen each other in years, and those of us who are left have no one left to talk to."

There was nothing theatrical in Thorpe's sorrow; it rang true. Hawthorne's reply was cool, almost indifferent.

"We'll see."

Hawthorne standing there, she held

Hawthorne followed Gwyneth at a steady distance. Suddenly, the old man's face broke into

he was a little older than their Gwyn, well, a

entrance, a car was already waiting

cane, gesturing at Gwyneth and Hawthorne.

was still

fell.

was only joking. It's peach season-your favorite! I've had a whole basket picked just for

practically had to restrain himself from just scooping Gwyneth

don't make a fuss. You

onto her arm. "Don't try to trick this old man. If I let go, what

but she had

him she wasn't

"Don't worry, Thorpe. I'd like to try some of that

was young,

to talk about

peaches. Every time he brought it up, he'd smack

great-granddaughter in your hands, then. I'll be

After so many years, it was time for her and

a never-ending sleep, the other wide awake but wishing