6
Back then, Jason’s eyes were full of fear. He held me tightly, as if I might vanish into thin air.
He said, “I, Jason Danish, swear today: I will never betray Chloe Hartwell in this life. If I do, may I meet a terrible end.”
At the time, I was deeply moved.
I cried quietly in his arms, silently vowing to stay by his side forever.
I admit it–I was a hopeless romantic.
But life has a way of proving that romantic idealists don’t get happy endings.
“Yes,” I said.
Jason broke down completely.
He hugged me tightly, just like he used to.
“Chloe Hartwell, don’t go. Please don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
Jason seemed to no longer care about fulfilling Grace’s dying wish.
He moved back in with me and never left my side.
When I watered the flowers, he trimmed the leaves.
When I painted, he mixed the colors for me.
One day, I put down my brush, looking at the light green paint he had prepared, and said lightly, “Shouldn’t you be with Sophia? Doesn’t it matter to you?”
Jason’s back stiffened.
Sophia was nearly three months pregnant, a time when she needed someone by her side.
But her husband wasn’t there.
Jason said nonchalantly, “Her mother is with her. She doesn’t need me.”
117
“Besides, I’ve already given her everything I promised. I don’t owe them anything anymore.”
I ignored the tenderness in his eyes, got up, and lay down on the bed.
The end felt near–I was running out of energy.
My head felt heavy, and I quickly drifted off to sleep.
In the middle of the night, I felt warm hands holding my cold feet.
A gentle heat spread through me.
I slept soundly until evening.
When I woke up, Jason had prepared dinner.
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The food didn’t look great–it seemed like it had been reheated several times.
Late mechanically, unable to taste anything, shoveling food into my mouth bite by bite.
Jason placed a piece of barbecue pork in my bowl and smiled gently.
“I remember you love barbecue pork.”
Did I?
I think I used to.
But now, it was just another piece of meat.
I said flatly, “I don’t really like anything anymore.”
Jason’s hand froze midair, and he looked at me with hopeful eyes.
“What about me?”
The room was silent. I continued eating as if nothing had been said.
Once, I had loved Jason Danish.
Now, he was no different from that piece of meat–just something on my plate.
I met his gaze. “You should go check on Sophia. She’s been pestering me a lot. I don’t have the energy to deal with her.”
Jason stayed with me for two months.
It was as if he had forgotten he was married to Sophia.
He seemed to have forgotten Grace was dying of cancer, too.
Oddly enough, the doctor had said Grace had no more than three months to live, yet six months later, she seemed healthy and full of energy.
The standoff ended abruptly when there was a loud banging at the door.
Sophia, her belly round and heavy, stood there supported by her mother.
The moment the door opened, Sophia stormed inside and slapped me across the face.
My cheek stung instantly, turning red.
“You witch! How dare you seduce my husband, Chloe Hartwell? Don’t forget you’re divorced!”
I touched my face, pushing away Jason, who tried to shield me.
I raised my hand and slapped her back without hesitation.
The sharp sound echoed as Sophia’s face snapped to the side.
She stared at me in disbelief.
I shook my hand, calm as ever. “You hit me. Did you really think I’d just let it go?”
“Sophia Lockwood, Jason Danish is your husband. If you want to throw a tantrum, direct it at him–not me.”