Chapter 145
Having sent Lilith off, Mason returned to the second-floor master bedroom. He wanted to call Zoe downstairs for dinner, realizing it had been a while since they had a proper meal together.
He wanted to make things work with her.
As he entered the bedroom, the gifts he gave were carelessly piled in the corner, as if her indifference discarded his intentions. Mason knew Zoe did it on purpose. Whatever treatment he gave her before, she was throwing right back at him.
It was a back-and-forth game.
From the walk-in closet came faint sounds, like someone packing luggage. Mason hurried over.
Sure enough, Zoe was packing a suitcase. She was filling it with clothes, accessories, and her everyday items, cramming it full.
Mason watched, feeling a sudden ache.
He caught her wrist, pulling and guiding her onto the small sofa. Their bodies were now close, his voice dangerous. “Where are you going?”
Zoe didn’t struggle. She looked up at her husband, observing the anxiety and urgency in his eyes as if he cared a lot about her.
She extended her slender fingers, gently brushing across his handsome face. “Are you done talking to her? Have you consoled her?
This infuriated Mason.
He grabbed her hand to prevent her from fiddling around, saying with irritation, “I’m planning to send her abroad for treatment.”
Forga
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Zoe looked surprised, then calmly smiled. “You’re hiding the mistress. Excellent!”
Mason bit his lip. “Don’t twist my words.”
Zoe’s gaze turned cold. “Am I twisting your words, Mason? You say there’s nothing going on between the both of you, but why do you keep helping her with her illness? Why do you stay by her side? You two embrace each other privately, so sweet and infatuated. Do you really have the audacity to say I’m twisting your words?”
A photograph was pressed against Mason’s chest.
Frowning, he picked it up and froze.
It was a picture of him with Lilith.
He was leaning on a deep gray sofa in the hospital room, eyes closed, covered with a blanket. Lilith was gently leaning against his shoulder. It was such a sweet scene.
Anyone looking at this photo would think they were a couple, lovers even. Lilith’s eyes were filled with love, a kind of crazy affection that couldn’t be faked.
Mason confirmed he never had any romantic involvement with Lilith. He looked at Zoe. “Where did this photo come from?”
Zoe remained silent. Mason knew that she didn’t get this photo from Lilith to provoke him. She spent money to acquire it, likely as leverage in their potential divorce.
Mason tore the photo, got up from her, and spoke coldly. “I’m not getting a divorce. Not in this lifetime.”
He walked toward the door, and Zoe’s voice, equally cold, followed, Mason, whether we divorce or not doesn’t matter to me anymore. Loving someone means thinking about them even at the ends of the
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earth. Disliking someone, even if you sleep on the same bed, is just sharing the bed with different dreams.”
Mason paused.
His slender fingers gently touched the metal door handle. After a while, he whispered, “Then let’s share the bed with different dreams.”
At least Zoe would be by his side.
At least Zoe would be in his bed.
They parted ways without joy. They didn’t have dinner together, and they slept with their backs to each other at night.
As dawn approached, Mason woke up.
When he reached out, there was no one beside him. Zoe had left.
He looked up at the ceiling for a while, then got up. He washed his face and went downstairs to ask the servant about Zoe.
The servant hesitated before saying, “Madam left early in the morning.
Mason turned back upstairs, tying his robe as he walked. Suddenly, he paused, “Did Madam drive herself?”
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