The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 658

Chapter 658

Apart from Patti Yale's voice, the only sound in the room was the quiet clatter of Hawthorne's silverware against his plate.

"I just think, compared to you, none of them really measure up," Patti said.

Hawthorne remained silent, methodically cutting into his soft-boiled egg until the yolk oozed messily across the plate, like someone's blood quietly weeping.

He didn't set down his knife and fork until Patti finally finished speaking. When he looked up at her, his gaze was cold and sharp as a blade. The look startled her; she shivered involuntarily. But by the time she looked again, his expression had already returned to its usual indifferent calm.

Maybe she'd imagined it.

"Okay. I understand."

There was no accusation in his voice, no blame-just that same gentle, quiet man she'd known years ago, the one who'd once favored her with his soft-spoken charm. Only now, he seemed to have lost the last traces of romance.

Hawthorne was never the kind of man who knew how to please a woman. He never brought her flowers or whispered sweet nothings. When she'd begged him to make her breakfast, he'd simply said he didn't like the smell of

like the other guys who'd chased after her, desperate to please_ offering to run her baths or feed her at the table. Even now, looking at the neatly

it herself, and the greasy feel of it made her reluctant to touch anything. She'd probably

was infuriating. Why couldn't Hawthorne act like a normal man and learn how to make a

for—well, there was no way she'd have

will you

was tentative,

he set the cup down, there was a hint of a smile at

then did Patti relax. Hawthorne hadn't answered,

getting late. I need to get to work.

his barely touched glass of milk and the mangled

to

push her away; his body was soft, none of the stiffness he'd shown the first time she'd tried

he

like a galaxy. The