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.

please a woman. He never brought her

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

it herself, and the greasy feel of it made her reluctant to touch anything. She'd probably have to load the dishes into the dishwasher later,

was infuriating. Why couldn't Hawthorne act like a normal

have come here, swallowing her pride just to win him

will you

was tentative, almost

and ended up choking on it. Patti watched him. When he set the cup down, there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his

Patti relax. Hawthorne hadn't answered, but his expression seemed genuinely

get to work. Could you tidy

glass of milk and the mangled

Hawthorne got up to leave, Patti panicked.

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

convinced he

she pleaded, her eyes shining, flecked with points of light like a galaxy.