I smile and shake my head at Silvia.
I want to know how to avoid a person who doesn’t love me but doesn’t let me go.
For example, Frances.
I think I’ll die if I don’t leave him.
“Do you know who my family want me to marry?” She looks at me.
I shake my head again.
I don’t know anything about the upper class. How can I know if she doesn’t tell me?
“Jakobe Wilkinson, Lawrence’s good friend. And it’s even suggested by Lawrence. The man I love
hooks me up with another man. Is there anything more painful in this world?”
I feel like saying yes.
If Silvia knows that Lawrence likes Whitney and she is pregnant with his child, she will probably
collapse.
“The Jakobe you are talking about... Does he look gentlemanly?”
I recall a humble and polite face that I saw on a banquet, which I attended with Frances in Santos.
“How do you know?” Silvia looks at me in surprise.
I smile and answer briefly that I’ve seen him once before.
“He is so nice to me, but I don’t like him at all. And that’s driving me crazy. Now I understand Lawrence,
so I don’t bother him now.”
I don’t know how to solve Silvia’s problems. I’m not qualified to provide advice for others because I’m in
a messy relationship. All I can do is to listen to her.
Silvia talks for a long time, and it’s all about her pursuing Lawrence. She looks really happy even when
she’s just talking about trivial matters.
Finally, she is a little sleepy. She yawns and says, “Sister-in-law, I can feel that my brother is sincere to
you. When he and Whitney divorce, he will definitely marry you.”
I don’t agree with her. Frances is nice to me, but I know I’m not good enough for him.
I never expect him to divorce Whitney, nor do I dare to dream about our future.
I smile bitterly and say in a low voice, “It’s late. Go to bed.”
A few minutes after Silvia leaves, the door of the bathroom is opened.
I lie on the bed and don’t even open my eyes. I know it’s Frances.
Then I hear him talking.
“What do you think of Silvia’s last remark?”
Did he hear that? We didn’t speak loudly. How long have he been in the bathroom?
“I’m not a commenter. I have no comments on that.” I curl my lips and end the conversation with a joke.
My love for him is an untouchable wound. The more I talk about it, the more painful it becomes.
Frances doesn’t say anything else and walks to the bed. He lies beside me.
“Go take a shower.” He says indifferently.
Shower?
“Why should I take a shower now?” I look at Frances in horror and sit up from the bed.
“To do your job.” He says casually, but I get panic.
There’s a baby in my belly. How can I sleep with him?
I shake my head and say, “No, I’m not feeling well today. Maybe next time.”
As for the next time, I’ll have to figure out another excuse.
Frances’ face gets dark. He frowns and stares at me, “Jane, you have refused me too many times
recently, haven’t you?”
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