“You don't believe me!” Lyle glared at me, his expression turned grim.
Meanwhile, I gazed at him coldly, as if I was looking at a random stranger on the street. Then, I said while emphasizing every word, “Do you there is still trust between us? Come on. You'll treat me well only when you need my help, right? So, you don't need to fake it in front of me.”
Once I finished, I strode and left. When I came to a corner, Lyle stood still and looked dejected somehow. However, I would never believe that he was sad because of me.
I felt I could hardly understand Lyle—he cared about me at times but was also ruthless. Perhaps with Christopher's presence, he was surprised to find out that someone would love his haggard wife. It proved once again that humans were ungrateful brats and would cherish something only when they were losing it.
With a palm print on my cheek, and my left hand scalded, Christopher would be worried when he saw me. As such, I bought some ointment to reduce the swelling on my face. My hand's injury wasn't serious because Josephine had treated it for me immediately.
The moment I opened the door, I could smell the aroma of food. Then, I saw Christopher wearing an apron and busy preparing food in the kitchen. Hearing the sound, he turned around and said, “Dinner is almost ready. Don't rush into the house yet. I've bought a new pair of slippers, and they're in the shoe cabinet. Try it.”