Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I felt like I had plunged into an ice-cold lake. My blood seemed to freeze in my veins. For a moment, I doubted my ears.

I had suspected something off between them, but every suspicion got denied, time and again.

Even without a blood relation, one was the heir to the Ferguson Group, the other a lady of the Ferguson family. They were nominally siblings to the outside world.

And both were married to other people. Bryant, the golden boy, couldn’t possibly be involved in such a scandal.

Yet, not far from me, Bryant, with eyes red with fury, had Margaret pinned against the wall, his voice cold and mocking. “Divorce for me, huh? You were the one who chose to marry someone else. What right do you have to ask anything of me now?”

“I…” Margaret was speechless by his barrage of questions, tears falling like pearls from a broken necklace, her hands fumbling with the hem of Bryant’s shirt.

“I was wrong, Bry. Can’t you forgive me this once? Please, just once. And, I had no choice back then…”

Bryant said, “I’m already married.”

“Can’t you get a divorce?” Margaret’s desperation was palpable, her face etched with sorrow as if Bryant’s denial would shatter her,

I was shocked by her blunt question. She got no hint of shame for being the other woman. Bryant seemed almost amused by his anger, his teeth clenched. “Marriage is not a game to me, as it seems to be for you!”

With that, he moved to leave.

Margaret clung to his shirt, refusing to let go.

–

I knew Bryant could effortlessly shake her off if he wished. I watched the scene unfold, a part of me hoping for something, hoping he would break free and draw a clear line. And our marriage might still have a chance.

And he did just that. Dropping a line about acting grown-up and avoiding foolishness, he seemed to signal an end to the drama.

I breathed a sigh of relief. My curiosity to eavesdrop further vanished.

“Do you love her? Bry, look me in the eyes and tell me. Do you love her?”

With the persistence of an old denied candy, Margaret grabbed Bryant’s arm again.

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10:34

Chapter 11

My heart hung in limbo once more.

Before turn around, I heard Bryant’s voice, emotion hard to discern. “That’s none of

your business.”

“Then don’t you love me anymore? That should concern me, right?” Margaret pressed.

For a moment, I admired Margaret’s bravery of relentless questioning. Later, I realized it wasn’t bravery but sheer audacity, backed by something I never had – favoritism.

Bryant stood tall, suddenly stiff, his face an impassive mask of frost. He didn’t answer, and Margaret didn’t let him leave. It was like a scene from a melodrama. Each silent second was suffocating, making me forget to breathe.

“Mrs. Ferguson, I brought out that coat you wore last spring. Please put it on in case you catch a cold.” The servant’s voice carried across the distance, loud and clear.

Bryant’s gaze flickered in my direction.

I felt the awkwardness of uncovering someone’s secret, yet, at that moment, I also felt a sense of closure,