Chapter 342 The day went by.
In the evening, Ashton did not come home until after dinner. His face was pale. I took the initiative to talk to him, âMrs. Eriksen has a wonderful meal prepared just for you.â
He merely peered at me, his expression a cold one. âIâve taken my dinner!â
Heâs still mad?
Then he stormed up the stairs and entered the study, leaving me completely baffled.
âLetty, do you mind taking this up to him? Mr. Ashton doesnât look very good. Maybe heâs dealing with a lot of issues at work. You two should have a good chat as husband and wife, Lifeâs like that. Youâre happy one day and then sad on another. Marriage is all about communication.â
Mrs. Eriksen spoke. Then she handed me the tray of home-cooked food she had prepared. They were all Ashtonâs everyday favorites.
At the entrance to his study.
I knocked a few times on the door and, after some time, when no one came to answer it, pushed it open and entered the room.
The study was barely lit. A strong smell of tobacco drifted in the air when I stepped in.
âAshton?â
I turned on the lights to find Ashton leaning back on his chair next to the European-style desk, his eyes shut tight. The gloom on his face signaled that he would not tolerate disturbances at that time.
I placed the tray of food on the desk, and whispered to him, âAshton, Mrs. Eriksenâs prepared some of your favorite food. Please try some.â
His eyes were closed so I could not get a good read of his emotions but, judging by the chill in the study, it seemed pretty clear that he was still bristling with anger.
The second I noticed the screen on his computer, I was stunned. It was a video of my car accident in the city center the day before.
Why is he watching this?
âUncle Louis says weâre expected at the Stovall residence next Monday to go over the family registry. Youâve been busy recently, so maybe I...â
âScarlett!â Ashton interrupted me. His eyelids snapped open, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes.
âDo you love him?â He said, his voice low and stern. He turned in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on me. âYou managed to spot him in a sea of people, and then you went after him with little regard for your life. Is it because you canât get over him?â
The way he spoke was extraordinarily calm and ironic. I froze on the spot, having understood the reason behind his fury.
I leveled my gaze at him and ultimately chose not to evade the question, so I said, âItâs not what you think. Heâs just an ordinary friend. But even so, if I chanced upon his lookalike on the streets, I would want to find out more about that person, just to assure myself. After all, I owed him my life.â
He rose and slowly made his way towards me. His voice was low and deep as he enveloped me with his coldness. âWhat do you mean itâs not what I think? Are you saying you know whatâs on my mind?â
I pursed my lips and subconsciously stepped back. When I hit the cold wall behind me, I realized I was cornered.
âAshton, are you angry because I canât get over him, or are you mad because you believe I shouldnât get upset over a dead person?â
He sneered. âWhat do you think?â
I pursed my lips. I, for one, knew that this man was extremely possessive and domineering. After a pause, I said, âWhichever it is, Marcus is dead. Thatâs an undeniable fact, isnât it?â
âWhat if he isnât?â he countered, his eyes darkened even more. âIf heâs alive, would you still want to repay his life-saving grace by offering your affection?â
I frowned, finding his argument awfully stubborn. Suppressing my emotions, I put my foot down and replied, âNo ifs, and thatâs final!â
From the way I see it, Marcus was already gone. Only guilt and regret remained.
Ashtonâs overreaction undoubtedly meant he could not bring himself to accept that the regrets I had for Marcus would increase little by little over time.
He gazed at me, his dark eyes as deep as the sea. A long while later, he tugged his dry lips. Then, his slender and tall figure fell back onto the chair.