Book TRK
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Megan grasped the car door then slowly let it go.
The atmosphere inside the car was stilling.
Sullivan had just returned from a business trip and had made a detour to the Lowry Mansion. He was visibly tired. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other rubbing his forehead, he spoke with impatience, “How much longer am you going to keep this up?”
By now, he merely thought it all was a tantrum
Megan feli a chill in her heart. Sitting up straight, she stared ahead and after a long pause, spoke softly, “Sullivan, I’m serious! I don’t want to be with you anymom
Sullivan tumed sharply to look at her. He was a handsome man, with well–defined features that Megan had once been quite infatuated with. But now, she felt nothing, not in the slightest
His eyes locked onto hers as he unbuckled his seat belt, “Get out!”
With a faint sound, the locks disengaged.
Megan stepped out immediately, walking briskly toward the villa’s entrance.
In the dim light, her back was as straight and resolute as her decision to divorce.
Sullivan lit a cigarette before getting out of the car and following her upstairs.
Their argument had ended on a sour note.
That night, Megan slept in the quest room, while Sullivan, too proud to cajole her, changed into his pajamas and lay down. But when going to sleep, he patted the empty space beside him, feeling somewhat unaccustomed to it.
In the past, no matter how indifferent he was, Megan liked to sleep holding him from behind.
In the early moming, sunlight shone into the bedroom.
Sullivan found it imitating and shielded his eyes, awakening in the process.
Downstairs, faint noises could be heard..
He recognized them as the sounds of the housekeeper setting up the dining room, something Megan and the servants usually did together, including preparing his breakfast just for him.
Feeling slightly better, Sullivan got out of bed and strolled into the dressing room and changed his clothes.
Then he froze.
Megan’s suitcase was gone.
He slid open the wardrobe, confirming that several of her fréquently worn clothes were missing. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
After a few seconds of silent contemplation, he closed her wardrobe and chose a business suit as usual, got dressed, and after a quick
wash, he was fastening his watch while heading downstairs. He casually asked the housekeeper “Where’s Megan?”
The housekeeper spoke cautiously. “Madam left early in the morning with her suitcase, Sir. She didn’t even call for the driver.”
“She’s gone!”
Sullivan ignored the news, sat down to eat his usual breakfast of black coffee and whole–wheat toast.
His attention, however, was captured by the newspaper headlines.
Scandalous stories about him and Cressida filled the pages, each headline more sensational than the last. After scanning them for a moment, Sullivan asked the nearby housekeeper in a low voice, “Did Madam see the newspaper before she left?”
“She didn’t have breakfast, Sir. She just left the housekeeper answered honestly
Sullivan glanced at her and then picked up his phone to call Bianca, “Deal with those newspaper stories.”
After a brief exchange, he was about to hang up.
Sullivan’s slender fingers fiddled with his tie knot, loosening it slightly, his tone was very calm, “Also, find out where Megan sold her wedding ring. I want it back by four this afternoon.”
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Bianca on the other end paused. After a moment, she replied softly, “That can’t be possible! Mrs. Lowry loves you so much, how could she sell her wedding ring?”
Sullivan’s reply was to hang up the phone.
Throwing the phone on the dining table, looking at those news articles, he lost all appetite.
11:1
Megan returned to her family home, where Cora had just finished making soup to take to the hospital
Seeing Megan, Cora lost her composure. Pointing at the suitcase, her tone was harsh, “Which couple doesn’t fight? It’s normal for men to stray occasionally. That Cressida looks so shabby, and with a limp leg at that… I’ve heard she’s even a divorcee. Such a person could not possibly affect your status.”
“What status do I have with Sullivan!” Megan gave a self–deprecating smile, packing the chicken soup into a thermos, “I’ll go check on Dad at the hospital later.”
Cora glared at her.
After a while, Cora wiped her hands with a dishcloth, angrily said, “Your father would probably be furious to know you’re getting a divorce. Megan.. let’s step back a moment–even if you can’t stay with him, can you really manage everything after the divorce? With us, the Quigley family, in this state, what do you have to support yourself?”