Chapter 116
On a breezy Friday evening, Sullivan flew back to Borough City
Bianco, having coordinated with her driver, went to the airport to fetch fam. Once he was comfortably seated in the back of the car, the casually inquired, “Mr. Lowry, would you like to head to the office or straight to the vills?”
Exhausted from a week’s worth of labor, Sullivan massaged his temples and replied, “Let’s head over to Megarts place”
An acidic twinge coursed through Bianca’s heart. After a moment of silence, she softly ventured, “Are you picking her up to bring her home? Did you two have a falling out?”
Sullivan frowned, his tone sharpening, “Bianca, that’s overstepping.”
Bianca dared not press further Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she wrestled with her emotions. She was a woman, and a womaris Intuition is often unerring. She could sense that Sullivan’s affections for Megan were deepening by the day, evidenced by the new photo frame on his desk that housed Megan’s picture.
Sullivan was finally falling for Megan after three years of marriage.
Midway through the journey, Bianca was dropped off.
Arriving at the Quigley Apartment as dusk settled, the sky was painted with a fading tapestry of light with only the dimmest glow of twilight struggling to linger.
Megan was out walking with her father, engaged in quiet conversation.
A sleek black sedan pulled up in front of them. The car door opened, and Sullivan emerged.
Dressed in a sharp British–style suit with a subtle check pattern, his features were accentuated against the dying light, his presence commanding and charismatic.
Joseph’s headache acted up at the sight of him. Yet he didn’t show his displeasure to Sullivan; after all, his daughter’s well–being was tied to this man’s household. He could only lament internally how things had changed for the Quigleys, wishing Megan didn’t have to endure this.
Sullivan retrieved a gift from the trunk and handed it to the driver to take upstairs. He greeted Joseph with a smile, “You are looking well, Joseph
Joseph hesitated, then turned to pat Megan’s shoulder, “Sullivan’s here to pick you up. Go inform Cora, and then head back with him.”
Sullivan regarded Megan with a reserved look.
Megan had no desire for Sullivan to linger, so she accompanied Joseph upstairs to hastily pack her things, her heart heavy with
reluctance.
Cora pressed a bankbook into her hand. Opening it, Megan was astonished to find a balance of four million. She looked up at Cora, “This money is for you and Dad’s retirement!”
Cora stifled a sob, “That’s from selling the villa. Take it. If you can buy the villa back, that would be best. Your father actually snuck back there a few days ago. I saw him lingering outside the gates for a long time. He can’t let it go.”
Megan’s heart ached. She murmured, “If there’s a dh’ll definitely buy it back.”
ཤ ནང བར བ༅ རཿ ཞ 4 ཉ ཏྱཾ ནཻ རྗ
But she knew the difficulty of repurchasing something sed ut such a loss.
As she got into the car, her eyes were tinged with redness.
Sullivan glanced at her, his voice a blend of fatigue and tenderness, “Can’t bear to leave? You can always come back for another stay.”
Megan didn’t mention the villa. Instead, she just muddled it through.
Sullivan kissed her chin and then her lips, whispering, “I’ve missed you these past few days, Mrs. Lowry. I’ve never felt like this before.”
Megan felt her cheeks warm.
Regardless of emotions, any woman would find it hard to resist a man as handsome as Sullivan whispering such sweet nothings so close.
Back at their home, she was greeted with a surprise.
The painting, “Rain–Swept Begonia, was hanging in her music room, visible whenever she played the violin.
Her delicate fingers traced the frame, clearly enamored, “How did you know this was my favorite?”
Sullivan stood behind her, leaning in so his chin rested in the hollow of her shoulder and chuckling softly, “Because Bennett wanted to buy it. The gallery manager called me, and I offered double the price. I initially wanted to buy all your mother’s paintings for you, but that seemed like a nouveau riche move. Besides, an artist’s work should be shared with the world, not hoarded by one–it loses its artistic value and charm. So I thought, why not get the one that captures your heart and gift it to you?”
1/2
10:46
Chapter 116
On a breezy Friday evening, Sullivan flew back to Borough City.
Bianca, having coordinated with her driver, went to the airport to fetch him. Once he was comfortably seated in the back of the car, she casually inquired. “Mr. Lowry, would you like to head to the office or straight to the villa?”
Exhausted from a week’s worth of labor, Sullivan massaged his temples and replied, “Let’s head over to Megan’s place.
An acidic twinge coursed through Bianca’s heart. After a moment of silence, she softly ventured, “Are you picking her up to bring her home? Did you two have a falling out?”
Sullivan frowned, his tone sharpening. “Bianca, that’s overstepping.”
Bianca dared not press further. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she wrestled with her emotions. She was a worrian, and a woman’s intuition is often unerring. She could sense that Sullivan’s affections for Megan were deepening by the day, evidenced by the new photo frame on his desk that housed Megan’s picture.
Sullivan was finally falling for Megan after three years of marriage.
Midway through the journey, Bianca was dropped off.
Arriving at the Quigley Apartment as dusk settled, the sky was painted with a fading tapestry of light with only the dimmest glow of twilight struggling to linger.
Megan was out walking with her father, engaged in quiet conversation.
A sleek black sedan pulled up in front of them. The car door opened, and Sullivan emerged.
Dressed in a sharp British–style suit with a subtle check pattern, his features were accentuated against the dying light, his presence commanding and charismatic.
Joseph’s headache acted up at the sight of him. Yet he didn’t show his displeasure to Sullivan; after all, his daughter’s well–being was tied to this man’s household. He could only lament internally how things had changed for the Quigleys, wishing Megan didn’t have to
endure this.
Sullivan retrieved a gift from the trunk and handed it to the driver to take upstairs. He greeted Joseph with a smile, “You are looking well, Joseph.”
Joseph hesitated, then turned to pat Megan’s shoulder, “Sullivan’s here to pick you up. Go inform Cora, and then head back with him.”
Sullivan regarded Megan with a reserved look.
Megan had no desire for Sullivan to linger, so she accompanied Joseph upstairs to hastily pack her things, her heart heavy with reluctance.
Cora pressed a bankbook into her hand. Opening it, Megan was astonished to find a balance of four million. She looked up at Cora, “This money is for you and Dad’s retirement!”
༈ སྒོ ༢ ༤༦ ༢*ཆ ཉ༢ ༢ ཞ རྫ” SF ༠# ཚེ ཞེ 4 ཞ ཇ ཞ ཟ ཝཿནྟུ ཥ ཥ
Cora stifled a sob, “That’s from selling the villa. Take it. If you can buy the villa back, that would be best. Your father actually snuck back there a few days ago. I saw him lingering outside the gates for a long time. He can’t let it go.”
Megan’s heart ached. She murmured, “If there’s a chanc ‘ll definitely buy it back.”
But she knew the difficulty of repurchasing something set at such a loss.
As she got into the car, her eyes were tinged with redness.
Sullivan glanced at her, his voice a blend of fatigue and tenderness, “Can’t bear to leave? You can always come back for another stay.”
Megan didn’t mention the villa. Instead, she just muddled it through.
Sullivan kissed her chin and then her lips, whispering, “I’ve missed you these past few days, Mrs. Lowry. I’ve never felt like this before.”
Megan felt her cheeks warm.
Regardless of emotions, any woman would find it hard to resist a man as handsome as Sullivan whispering such sweet nothings so
close.
Back at their home, she was greeted with a surprise.
The painting, “Rain–Swept Begonia,” was hanging in her music room, visible whenever she played the violin.
Her delicate fingers traced the frame, clearly enamored, “How did you know this was my favorite?”
Sullivan stood behind her, leaning in so his chin rested in the hollow of her shoulder and chuckling softly, “Because Bennett wanted to buy it. The gallery manager called me, and I offered double the price. I initially wanted to buy all your mother’s paintings for you, but that seemed like a nouveau riche move. Besides, an artist’s work should be shared with the world, not hoarded by one–it loses its artistic value and charm. So I thought, why not get the one that captures your heart and gift it to you?”
1/2
10:46
Three years into their marriage, and he rarely spoke to her with such candor and emotion.
It was touching.
Megan had to admit she was a little moved, but pride kept her from showing it.
Sullivan, ever perceptive, could see right through her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, “Do you like it? If you do… does that mean you’ll let me in tonight?”
