Chapter 1134
Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee
Ignoring the myriad judgments held within those gazes, Millie held her head high and proceeded
confidently to her designated seat.
She decided that the opinions of others were inconsequential and held no power to sway her.
âFinally, you grace us with your presence.â Dottieâs voice carried a hushed undertone, her eyes
shadowed by the weight of dark circles.
Dottie had been weathering a storm of hardships, courtesy of Emerieâs exacting demands. The load of
tasks and the blame for designs gone awry had taken their toll, leading her to burn the midnight oil
night after night.
The crosshairs of Nancy and Emerie were unmistakably fixed upon her, leaving the rest in a state of
trepidation when it came to engaging with her. The passage of these days had cast a pall of misery
over her.
The instant Millie settled into her seat, a discernible click resounded through the air.
âOuch!â
The realization dawned swiftly as her chair succumbed to disrepair!
Meeting the unforgiving floor, her voice escaped in an involuntary scream.
âAre you alright?â Dottieâs startlement gave way to immediate action as she rushed to Millieâs aid,
extending her hand to help her rise.
Emerie stifled a laugh behind her hand, her amusement evident even as she sought to conceal it.
âSeems someoneâs packed on some pounds during their brief absence from work,â Emerie quipped
with a mischievous glint.
At the break of dawn, an edict from Nancy landed squarely in her hands, a directive to make Millieâs
return to the fold an arduous endeavor.
Chuckles bubbled from those aligned with Nancyâs faction, their laughter joining the chorus of
complicity.
Wincing in discomfort, Millie rose to her feet, one of her palms bearing the evidence of abrasions.
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Upon closer inspection, Millie identified a fracture running through the chairâs center. An irony surfaced-
this very chair, procured from a reputable manufacturer, boasted a robustness that could withstand the
weight of a 300-pound person without faltering.
Witnessing the punctured state of Millieâs palm, a pang of empathy surged within Dottie. Her
countenance flushed with a mix of sympathy and ire, she cast a pointed look in Emerieâs direction, her
words a confidential murmur.
âI was tardy this morning. Itâs clear someone deliberately sabotaged your chair and bided their time
until you took your seat. Their audacity knows no bounds. Youâre Mrs. Thomas, yet they muster the
audacity to subject you to such bullying,â Dottie confided, her words brimming with indignation.
âIâll make my way to the restroom,â Millie declared calmly.
Millie wasnât one to be fooled easily; she discerned the deliberate nature of the chairâs damage. Gently
pushing Dottie aside, she headed for the bathroom, cleansing the residual dust from her hands with a
swift wash.
Having tended to her immediate hygiene needs, Millie ventured to a stall for a necessary change, a
consequence of the morningâs arrival of her period.
Outside the closed confines of the stall, an unexpected incident unfolded-a surreptitious hand reached
for the hand sanitizer, whose contents promptly emptied beyond the stall door.
Emerging from the stall, Millieâs steps faltered as her footing betrayed her on the now slippery surface,
causing her to plummet to the floor once again.
âAREâ