Chapter 61
Sullivan wrapped up his business at the office, and the clock was striking seven in the morning.
He tidied up quickly ready to leave the company
Bianca watched her boss, his sharp features defying the night’s toll. While she had reapplied her makeup several times to cover her sallow complexion, Sullivan appeared as crisp and vibrant as ever.
A few executives were still lingering in the conference room.
Seeking to appear close to Sullivan, Bianca sidled up to him and chirped in a chummy tone, “Mr. Lowry, are you heading out for breakfast or straight home? I’ve ordered your favorite, the egg custard tart.”
Egg custard tart…
Sullivan wasn’t fond of sweets. The only tart he’d ever praised was one Megan had made, but
ut Blanca was the handiwork of a chef from Grand Kirin Dessert House and had bought them several times.
Each time, Sullivan had discreetly passed them off to his driver.
clueless. She assumed it was
Now, as Bianca mentioned it again, Sullivan was reminded that it had been ages since Megan had baked anything for him. Back when he used to work from his home office, Megan would always bring him her latest creations to try, her face alight with anticipation
In truth, she was seeking his praise. But his responses were always so tepid, a single bite and no more! And Megan would look disappointed…
Lost in thought, Sullivan was jolted back to reality by Bianca’s impatient nudge, “Mr. Lowry?”
Regaining his composure, Sullivan looked at Blanca’s hopeful face and said flatly, “You can go now”
Her embarrassment was palpable, but Sullivan felt no obligation to cushion her emotions.
He rode the private elevator down to the underground parking lot and slid into his car. Despite his body crying out for rest, he found himself driving toward the hospital to see Megan.
In less than half an hour, Sullivan was at the Lowry Hospital, walking down its hushed corridors.
The door to Megan’s room was ajar, and through the gap, Sullivan saw her on the phone, her voice a soft murmur
“Cora, Im doing alright! Yes, I’m out on a gig! The pay’s decent. Don’t worry.. Sullivan isn’t giving me a hard time!”
After a few more words, Megan hung up.
Sullivan was about to enter when he froze. Megan was crying, her face buried in the pillow, her usually elegant nose flushed red
From the doorway, Sullivan watched, a pang of something unfamiliar stiming within him. He remembered how Megan used to be so expressive, crying in secret when she was upset, much like a child.
At some point, she’d grown up. She didn’t cry much anymore.
Reflecting on it, Sullivan realized it must have started when the Quigley family fell apart, and Wyatt was taken away by the police.
He had never really cared. He thought back to that night at the hotel, when he had pinned Megan down on the couch, disregarding her fierce resistance… Her crying now, was it still because of that?
Was the thought of being intimate with him truly so unbearable for Megan now?
Sullivan was no saint. His view on marriage was brutally simple: love might be optional, but sex was not. If a manage lacked even that basic connection, how could it possibly survive?
He gently closed the door, leaving Megan to her tears.
Sullivan walked to the end of the hallway and pulled out a cigarette pack. Lighting one up, he stood there, fingers elegantly holding the smoke, inhaling slowly.
His gaze drifted to the window.
Autumn was in full swing, the maple leaves like blazing fire,
After about half an hour, a nurse approached cautiously, “Mr. Lowry, Mrs. Lowry hasn’t been eating well today. She didn’t touch her breakfast at all. Maybe you could talk to her.”
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