NOVPUB
Chapter 53 - 53- Don’t lie to me!
After Vincent left, Cynthia stayed there alone for a long time, feeling inexplicably agitated. It wasn't until the sky began to darken that Gary and Victoria came looking for her, and she followed them back.
After having dinner at the orphanage, she spent some time playing with the children before heading back to her small apartment. The moment she walked in and hadn't even turned on the lights, she was suddenly pressed against the door by a hot body. His hands immediately slipped under the hem of her clothes.
Startled, she froze for a moment. But as soon as the familiar scent surrounded her in the darkness, she stopped resisting. She leaned against the door, allowing him to claim her. His kiss was intense, and his large hand seemed to pull her waist closer.
He nibbled on her earlobe, breathing heavily as he asked,
"Where did you go?"
"Went... um... to dinner with a friend..." she replied intermittently between his kisses.
His seemingly caring reminder was, in fact, a cold warning,
"Don't lie to me! You know the price you'll pay for lying."
She shivered but still stubbornly insisted,
"I'm telling the truth!"
He didn't ask further questions. Instead, he carried her to the bed, and they spent a night of gentle and tender affection. The following days passed in the same sweet, intimate manner.
On the seventh day, the last of their agreement, she bought a bunch of snacks, fruits, and toys, and headed to the hospital. Tomorrow, he should be giving her the 700,000, and she had already made arrangements with the hospital. Once she received the money, she would immediately schedule surgery for the two children.
The children were thrilled to see her, even though their small faces were gaunt from chemotherapy. Despite that, they still forced bright smiles, not wanting to make her worry. Her eyes welled up, and she quickly turned her head away to hide it.
The weather outside was clear and sunny, so she decided to take the two children for a walk. After the surgery, they would likely not be able to enjoy the freedom of playing outside or basking in the sunlight for a long time.
Cynthia held one child's hand with each of her own, the three of them walking sweetly through the winding hospital corridors, planning to head to the small square in front of the hospital to get some fresh air. However, her smile faltered and froze as her gaze fell on a familiar figure in the building beside them.
Not far ahead, the man who had been tangled with her night after night was walking with a woman in his arms, heading towards the building across the street. The woman's figure was unmistakably slender and graceful, and Cynthia couldn't help but glance up at the building's name. The three large characters on the sign, "Obstetrics and Gynecology," suddenly felt like a sharp stab to her chest.
As she stood there, watching them, the man turned his head. Panicking, she quickly pulled the two children into the nearby outpatient lobby, not wanting him to see her. If he did, he would undoubtedly trace her back to the orphanage.
When she dared to peek again, the pair had disappeared, but her mood had inexplicably soured. The children, sensing her discomfort, tugged at her sleeve and asked,
"Cynthia, are you okay? You don't look so good. Should we not go outside to play?"
"No, I'm fine. I think I just need to adjust after being in the air-conditioned room for so long," she said, forcing a smile as she reassured the children. She then steered them towards the small square.
Although the intention was to cheer up the children, her mind remained distracted, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The children, perceptive as they were, soon requested to go back to their room to rest. After seeing them off, Cynthia found herself inexplicably drawn to the building where the couple had gone. She decided to inquire about the two of them.
The answer she received left her reeling: the woman who had come with the man was possibly pregnant, though it was too early for an ultrasound to confirm, but the woman's symptoms—missing her period, nausea, and vomiting—suggested she might be expecting.
Cynthia's head buzzed with the news, her heart sinking as she stood in the bustling hallway. Her mind involuntarily replayed the image of him tangled with that woman in bed, a nauseating feeling rising in her chest. It was as if she had swallowed a fly.
The man, only days ago, had told her that he wanted her to have a child, but now, he had made another woman pregnant! His ability to be so affectionate and indiscriminate was maddening. She couldn't help but wonder what he truly felt when he spoke those words to her.
Taking a steadying breath, she leaned against the wall. Then, with a bitter, self-deprecating smile, she realized she had overreacted. She knew that woman must have been the one he truly cared about, so it wasn't surprising that she had ended up pregnant with his child. With that thought, a strange clarity washed over her.
When she returned home in the evening, she had already finished washing up and lying down early, praying in her heart that he wouldn't come tonight. The thought of his hands on her body made her feel disgusted to the core.
As usual, he arrived around nine o'clock. He went to take a shower and seemed to have some business to handle in the living room. She could vaguely hear the sound of him typing on a keyboard and talking on the phone in a low voice.
Her frustration grew heavier. If he was so busy, he should stay at the company and work overtime. What was the point of disturbing her here?
She lay on her side, when suddenly the bed behind her sank. His arm reached out affectionately, trying to wrap around her, and with it came his warm breath on the back of her neck.
"Why are you sleeping so early today? Are you feeling unwell?"
She quickly moved to the edge of the bed, avoiding his embrace, pulling the blanket tightly around herself. She lay there without turning, and her sharp movement made him pause for a moment. The next second, his big hand domineeringly pulled her back toward him. He furrowed his brows and stared at her, watching her pretend to be asleep with her eyes closed.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, just a little tired."
She lay there stiffly, holding back waves of disgust in her chest. She forced herself to think about the cute smiles of the two children, telling herself, "I can't push him away! I can't push him away! It's the last day. I can't let everything go to waste."
"Is that so?"
He dragged out his words lazily. Although she kept her eyes closed, she could feel his gaze scanning her face back and forth. She dared not open her eyes, fearing that her emotions would reveal her rejection.
She heard him sneer, and his hot hand slid under her clothes, caressing her delicate figure. It then stopped on her soft chest, rubbing gently or firmly. His lips lightly kissed her tightly pursed red ones.
"What if you're tired? I haven't even started tasting you yet."
Her body became even stiffer, as if she had been thrown into a freezing cold cellar, frozen in an entire world of ice. From head to toe, there was no warmth. Her long eyelashes trembled uncontrollably. He suddenly spoke with a harsh tone.
"Open your eyes and look at me!"
Under his forceful command, she finally slowly opened her eyes, only to meet his gaze, which was tinged with mild anger. He pinched her chin, his face full of displeasure.
"Tell me! What's going on tonight?"
In his dark pupils, her face, filled with rejection, reflected back at her. She stared at him, looking at him, until she saw in that reflection a calm little face. Then, she spoke softly.
"Nothing, I'm really just tired."
The moment her words left her lips, his mouth crashed onto hers, as if punishing her for being dishonest. His kiss was particularly forceful, and when she gasped for air, he leaned into her ear and coldly declared,
"Tired or not, it's not up to you!"
She helplessly closed her eyes, letting her brain stop thinking, putting herself into a blank state. That way, she wouldn't have to think about the humiliation and shame he brought.
Just as he was about to enter her, she pushed him away, then opened the nightstand drawer and took out a condom. Her expression was not the usual shy one, lost in passion, but rather unusually calm.
"Mr. Wilson, could you please wear a condom when you do this from now on? It's better for both of us."
What she truly wanted to say in her heart was: *Sorry, I think you're filthy!*
Albert Wilson was somewhat put off, even feeling a bit defeated. After all that effort, she handed him that cold face and the infuriating condom?
After glaring at her for a while, he swatted the item from her hand, then turned over, getting off her and lying down beside her. His face was grim and he said nothing. Cynthia could clearly feel him growing angry again.
But if he didn't want her, she couldn't be more relieved. She bit her lip, pulled the blanket over her, turned her back to him, and quietly fell asleep. It was his own choice, he couldn't find fault with her, and now he wouldn't give her the seventy thousand.
Just as she was drowsily drifting off to sleep, he suddenly lunged at her angrily from behind, muttering fiercely,
"Cynthia, are you trying to make me crazy!"
