The Runaway Groom

The Runaway Groom Chapter 838

Over at Jefferson Manor, Henry Jefferson’s funeral was over, and it was now time to deal with Ian Jefferson.

Once James learned that Ian was the one who sent those thugs from before, he unleashed all his fury and indignation on Ian.

Isaac’s phone happened to ring at the time, and as he took it out to answer it, James’s fist landed squarely on the bridge of Ian’s nose, shattering it and making him scream.

Irene heard it even as Isaac started to head outside.

“Yeah?”

Irene was relieved to hear him answer. “What was that?”

“Just James venting,” he flatly replied.

Irene quickly understood what had happened and did not ask anything else.

“I might be home late tonight,” he added.

“Oh,” Irene murmured. “Actually, I was just going to tell you that there’s no one at home. We’re all out.”

“I see. Head home soon, though.”

“Okay.”

“Shall I hang up now?” Isaac asked after a brief silence.

“Okay.”

…

As they alighted, Tommy held Irene’s hand as they headed into the mansion, saying, “I’m so happy, Mommy.”

Irene lowered her gaze at him. “You’re happy because we went out?”

“Yes.” Tommy nodded, his head bobbing like a bird’s. “Let’s go out more, I’ll be even happier.”

Irene gave his little hand a squeeze. “Alright.”

Tommy was so happy he was skipping all the way, and Irene smiled as she watched him on cloud nine.

Maybe staying home for the children was not that bad—her sons would at least be happy, would they not?

She even bathed both children for the day before coaxing them to sleep.

It was 9 PM when everything was done. Tommy put on his bear pajamas, sitting on the bed as he played with the paper windmill they bought from the amusement park.

He puffed at it, propelling that flap even as Irene tried to get him to sleep. “It’s almost ten. Time to sleep—you can play with it tomorrow too.”

Tommy reluctantly lay down then, but he was still holding the paper windmill.

Irene pulled his blanket over him and gave him a peck on the forehead. “Good boy.”

Tommy beamed happily and closed his eyes obediently.

was asleep

her

so she picked up a book to read, but her mind could not calm down enough for

a glass of wine before returning

swirled her glass as she rested both hands on the railing,

small sip and

did not drink much and

it was too dark for her to see

sure that Isaac had

drove into the front porch and its

the door alighted, his shadow seemingly stretching on forever on the ground under the

her lips, Irene called out

“Isaac.”

the

was waiting

smiled, his usual scowl easing above his dark

glass

lot to drink?”

starting to

coquettishly and undid the sash on her sleeping gown, asking directly,

words,

so light it seemed to dance in the air as it

further and he studied her with

have more?” he

longer fingers took hold of the

was

that expression seemed to have an additional tinge of coquettishness. “Yeah. Want

first time, Isaac

twinkled as he smiled, and his voice was as quiet

tenderly and alluringly, “You have to

stop himself from

she take the wrong meds

I’ll catch it,” he

were so thin they looked like they would snap at any moment, its soft

“I’m throwing

the gown over the railing, and

ultimately stopped herself, clinging onto it as

she was about to straighten her

find Isaac standing at the doorway, leaning against

“Don’t.”

look good?” Irene

Isaac studied her then.

face, her lips, her neck, or elsewhere… he was

“Yes.”

looked up, her

hands. He

lip and threw herself into his arms. “Did you

turn, and buried his face in

you’re despicable.” Irene tightened her hold around his neck. “I doubted myself for

always believed that she was right and

regard for what was wrong, insisting that she had broken