Chapter 63
Sullivan pulled into the driveway of his sprawling estate, the sound of gravel crunching under the tires of his luxury car breaking the silence of the peaceful evening. The sight of his return caught the maid off guard, as she had no idea about Megan’s hospitalization and had assumed Sullivan was out of town on business
As Sullivan killed the engine, the maid rushed to open the car door “Six are you here for dinner? The staff in the kitchen wasn’t expecting you, and it might take about an hour to prepare something,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice, aware of Sullivan’s usual impatience
Sullivan, ha face etched with fatigue, replied with a dismissive wave, Just whip up something light.”
The maid scurried away to carry out his orders.
Stepping out of the car, Sullivan made his way into the grand foyer of the mansion. His staff had kept the place spotless, as if in anticipation of his retum. Despite his absence, the house gleamed, the windows shining and the floors polished to a mirror finish.
After a night of restless busyness, Sullivan was ready to head upstairs for a hot shower. But as he pushed open the door to the master bedroom, his gaze fell upon the large wedding portrait hanging above the bedhead
In the photo, Megan’s smile was sweet and captivating. Their wedding had been a hasty affair, and since he wasn’t fond of her at the time, he had been reluctant to pose for pictures. This particular image was a composite, created by a photographer Megan had paid for
Sullivan had chided her for fooling herself, but Megan simply said he looked handsome in the picture. When she would tell him that, her eyes would sparkle like they held the stars and the ocean itself
But now, those same eyes had been filled with tears as she begged him to let her go. She claimed he despised her, that she was tired of the mutual torment, that she longed to be an ordinary person rather than Mrs. Lowry. Sullivan had to admit, Megan hadn’t been wrong. He had never forgiven her.
–
And now, he was even less inclined to do so she wanted to leave without giving him the chance to reconcile his feelings. He couldn’t forgive her for that.
Standing by the foot of the bed, Sullivan stared at the photograph for a long while before he finally moved into the walk–in closet to grab a bathrobe. Searching for his toiletries, he realized just how out of place he felt without Megan. Life without her was something he wasn’t accustomed to, and deep down, he suspected he cared too much about her.
Even if it was hatred, it was still too much attention.
He used to live with Megan, her presence a constant in his life, her body available whenever he desired it. Yet, he never used to think of her during work, while sleeping, or even care whether she cried.
This was not a pleasant realization for Sullivan, especially since the person in question was Megan – the woman he had loathed for three years.
After his shower, the meal wasn’t ready yet. Sullivan leaned against the dresser that Megan would often sit at, lighting a cigarette and taking a long, thoughtful drag. Megan had left without taking her belongings with her. The dresser was cluttered with her myriad lotions and potions, a testimony to her nightly beauty rituals that left her skin soft and delicate to the touch.
expecting to find more
As he glanced at the array of bottles and jars, curiosity got the better of him and he pulled open a drawer, exp cosmetics. Instead, he found a pale pink diary, thick and evidently a few years old.
Gently flipping it open, Sullivan scanned the pages filled with Megan’s youthful handwriting, documenting her affection for him at 18- candid, passionate, and endearingly naive.
[Sullivan ignored me all day today]
[He didn’t even glance at the cupcakes I made him. Does he hate me?]
[If he hates me, why did he lend me his jacket when I stained my skirt during my period. Could he secretly like me too? I don’t care, tomorrow Sullivan will definitely fall for me
Sullivan turned to the last page. The date marked the bankruptcy of the Quigley family and the day Wyatt was sent to jail.
He remembered that day, Megan had received a phone call. Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she had helplessly murmured, “Sullivan!”
He knew she wanted his help. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask, knowing all too well the distance that had grown between them. All she could do was silently plead with her husband for a shred of compassion, while Sullivan had been about to leave for a business trip to Harmony City.
