Chapter 125
“Those look expensive,” Eleanor commented, gesturing toward the package. “For us?”
“For Margaret, I clarified firmly. “Where is she?”
As if on cue, Margaret appeared in the doorway, supported by her home health aide.
My heart clenched at how frail she looked.
“I heard my favorite girl has returned,” she said, her voice weak but warm.
I hurried to her side, taking her arm gently from the aide.
“Margaret, are you alright?”
“Just my old condition acting up again,” she dismissed with a slight wave of her hand. “Nothing serious, dear.”
“You need to take better care of yourself,” I insisted, helping her to her favorite chair. “Are you taking your medication on time?”
Margaret chuckled softly.
“You sound like my doctor. Enough about my boring health issues.”
She patted my hand. “Tell me, did you enjoy Clara’s wedding? Was it beautiful?”
I nodded, arranging a blanket over her knees.
“It was lovely. She’s truly happy with Finley.”
“Good, good,” Margaret’s eyes twinkled.
“Now we just need to find that same happiness for you, my dear.”
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.
“Speaking of which, how are things going with Mr. Thornton? You know, now that you’re divorced, you don’t need to be so cautious about seeing someone new.”
I suddenly remembered that Margaret and the entire Bailey family had no idea that Caspar Thornton was actually my supposed ex–husband,
Samuel West.
‘We’re… getting along fine,” I replied carefully, keeping my voice neutral.te’s well, busy as always.
“You should bring him for dinner sometime, George interjected, a calculang gleam in his eye.
“It’s been too long since we’ve had him here.”
I met his gaze coolly. “His schedule is extremely demanding.”
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Chapter 125
I understood perfectly well what George wanted–more connections, more business opportunities with the Thornton empire.
The irony of the situation made me want to laugh.
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I couldn’t help wondering how they would react if they ever discovered that the mysterious Samuel West they had forced me to marry four years ago was actually Caspar Thornton himself.
Would they regret pushing me into that arrangement?
“Where’s Sienna?” I asked, changing the subject. “I thought she’d be here.”
Eleanor explained sadly, “Since the Brandon incident, Sienna has been dealing with some unfriendly comments on social media. She is very
distressed.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said, my tone deliberately neutral.
Eleanor leaned forward, lowering her voice.
“You know, dear, I was thinking… since you spend so much time with Mr. Thornton, perhaps you could mention Sienna to him? He has connections in film and television through Thornton Media. ”
I stared at her, momentarily speechless.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” George cut in sharply. “After everything this family has done for you, you can’t even make a simple introduction?”
“I just work for Mr. Thornton,” I replied evenly. “It would be unprofessional to ask for personal favors.”
George scoffed. “Unbelievable. We raise you up, and this is how you repays? With ingratitude?”
Before I could respond, Margaret spoke up.
“That’s enough, George.”
I stood up, recognizing the signs of another Bailey family argument brewing.
‘I should go. Margaret needs her rest,” I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I visit again soon, I promise.”
Margaret squeezed my hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As I walked to the elevator, I couldn’t help wishing I could take Margaret way from this toxic household.
But this was her home, regardless of how her son and daughter–in–law behaved.
She would never leave, and I had no right to ask her to.
Back in my Chelsea apartment, I collapsed onto my bed.
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Chapter 125
Visits to the Bailey residence always left me emotionally drained.
I stared at the ceiling, my body heavy with fatigue.
Tomorrow would be another early morning. I’d promised Noah I would tak
“Just sleep,” I murmured to myself, setting my alarm.
“Tomorrow you need to be at your best.”
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21:50 Sat, Feb 7 W
Chapter 125
Visits to the Bailey residence always left me emotionally drained.
I stared at the ceiling, my body heavy with fatigue.
Tomorrow would be another early morning. I’d promised Noah I would take him to kindergarten.
“Just sleep,” I murmured to myself, setting my alarm.
“Tomorrow you need to be at your best.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
