Chapter 10 Her Dad Was Dead
Elizabeth bolted to the bedside, dropping down in a hurry,
“Dad, why didn’t you hit up the hospital? I had no clue you were th sick.” Elizabeth grabbed Robert’s chilly hand.
Elizabeth’s stepmom, Jennifer, rolled her eyes and snapped, “Easy for you to say! Hospital? Do you even know how much that costs? Where’s the money for that?”
Elizabeth shot her a look, “Didn’t the Thomas Family give us a large sum of money when I got married? Why didn’t you use that for Dad?”
Jennifer hesitated, then sneered, “You think that was a lot? I used to pay off debts ages ago! You’re never around, you don’t care about the company’s mess. Do you even know how much debt your dad’s company has? Elizabeth, don’t think I have that money! And who knows how much more this illness will cost? We’ll lose everything! It’s better if he just dies sooner!”
Jennifer spat out her harsh words and stormed out of the room.
Patricia glanced at her but stayed put.
Lying there, barely hanging on was still her dad.
Robert had always been good to her. Now, seeing him like this, she felt crushed.
She didn’t want to lose him, either.
“Dad, don’t be mad at Mom. It’s not that she doesn’t want to help, we just don’t have the money. Patricia stood by the bed, tears streaming. “Dad, I really hope you get better.”
Robert ignored Patricia.
His eyes welled up as he looked at Elizabeth, his lips trembling, voice barely a whisper, “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you and
your mom.”
He knew his time was up. So many regrets, so little time.
He looked at Elizabeth with longing and closed his eyes, unwillingly
His hand slipped from Elizabeth’s grasp.
Robert was gone.
Even if Elizabeth didn’t want to forgive him, he was still her dad.
Half of her blood came from him.
-Her dad was dead.
She still felt herself a kid inside, yet she was carrying two kids.
And neither of them was welcomed by Michael.
With all life’s twists and turns, she had no one to turn tou
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Chapter 10 Her Dad Was Dead
On the day of the funeral, not many showed up.
Afterwards, the crowd quickly thinned out.
Only Nancy, Elizabeth’s biological mom, and Elizabeth stayed at the cemetery, standing in the drizzle.
“Mom, do you hate Dad? Elizabeth asked, eyes on Robert’s tombstone, heart heavy.
Nancy lowered her eyes, “Yeah. Even though he’s gone, I can’t forgive him.”
Elizabeth was confused, “Then why are you crying?”
Nancy sighed, “I loved him once, after all. Elizabeth, It’s complicated. There’s no pure love or hate in this world. It’s usually a mix of both.
That night, Elizabeth dragged her tired self back to Michael’s house
From the moment Robert passed to the end of the funeral today, Elizabeth hadn’t set foot back in the Thomas Villa.
Michael hadn’t reached out, not even a text.
He probably didn’t even know she had lost her dad.
As she stepped into the front yard, the mansion was lit up like a parly was going on.
She stood at the door, unsure if she should go in.
“Mrs. Thomas!” Susan spotted her and rushed out.
Maybe it was the cold, sorrowful look on Elizabeth’s face, such a contrast to the lively vibe inside, that made Susan’s smile freeze. “Mrs. Thomas, it’s raining. Come in! Susan grabbed her arm and led her inside.
Elizabeth was in a black trench coat, her slender legs pecking out, and black low–heeled shoes.
She looked distant, totally different from her usual self.
Her face showed none of the caution from when she first came here, nor the calm determination from when she planned to divorce Michael.
Her face mirrored the gloomy weather outside, filled with sorrow and despair.
She looked like she had lost the most important thing
g in the world.
She was haggard, broken.
Michael watched her coldly from the side, his brows furrowing.
Something must’ve happened to Elizabeth in the past few days.
Susan brought out her pink plush slippers.
Elizabeth changed into them and glanced around the living room.
The people in the living room paused their toasts and conversations. They were dressed to the nines, holding wine glasses, and giving her meaningful looks.
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An uninvited guest, even though she was the supposed mistress of the house, she was extremely unwelcome.
Their rude
gazes scrutinized her, like zon visitors looking at animals in a cage.
Elizabeth lifted her eyes and looked coldly at Michael, who was louring on the couch.
He held a lit cigarette, smoke swirling around him. His indifferent al heartless face appeared both real and illusory through the smoke.
Beside him sat a woman, Margaret Taylor, She had beautiful long ha, wore a tight white dress, and had striking but not vulgar makeup.
Margaret was half–leaning against Michael, holding a lady’s cigarette
It was clear she and Michael had something going on.
Elizabeth looked at Margaret sitting next to Michael, her brows furrowing slightly.
Margaret stood up and walked towards Elizabeth.
Her posture was seductive, her gaze openly provocative.
She stopped in front of Elizabeth and gently blew out a smoke ring, You’re Elizabeth, right? So this is the wife Mrs. Mary Thomas picked for Michael.”
She circled Elizabeth, scrutinizing her like she was picking out a pet
Margaret sneered, “Mrs. Mary Thomas has good taste, your face is quite pretty. But you look little. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean your age. I mean your figure.”
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