Chapter 2
Ashton finally came back to his senses. He grabbed her wrist, looking heartbroken and reluctant.
“Cecilia, when have I ever let you cook?”
In my previous life, I originally didn’t know how to cook either, but because of one sentence from Ashton-“I want to eat your cooking“-I went to a training school to learn.
I cut myself while chopping vegetables and burned my hand while stir- frying, but Ashton never noticed any of it.
Just like he never cared whether I liked eating shrimp or not.
I suddenly felt suffocated, so I stood up and went to the balcony for some
air.
Ashton followed me in, frowning.
“Jenny, are you mad? I was just clinking glasses and drinking with Cecilia. Do you have to show me that face?
“You’re not a kid anymore. Why are you still so emotional? If your mom guesses our relationship, things will be bad for both of us!”
Ashton had always not wanted anyone to know we were married.
So for three years of marriage, not a single relative knew we had been sharing a bed for three years.
I took a drag of my cigarette and said coldly. “Then let’s get a divorce. I’m very busy–next month, I’m marrying my junior.”
10 580
Chapter 2
Ashton froze as if he hadn’t expected me to say that.
Just as he was about to lecture me, my mom pushed the door open, holding the dead–drunk Cecilia, and cheerfully said, “Ashton, Cecilia is drunk and insists you take her home.”
Without thinking, Ashton took the limp Cecilia into his arms, affectionately wrapping an arm around her slim waist.
He thought I was just spouting drunken nonsense, then turned to my mom and said, “Sarah, Jenny is drunk. Make sure you give her some hangover pills.”
Downstairs, Ashton and Cecilia kissed from outside the car to inside it.
I stood on the balcony and let out a laugh.
In my previous life, after making a scene at the party, I got what I wanted. -becoming Ashton’s wife solely in name. He never fulfilled his responsibilities.
When I was preparing our belated wedding banquet on my own, Ashton flew abroad to cheer up Cecilia.
When I had a fever of 40°C, Ashton was at a bar having a heartfelt conversation with her.
Even when I was pregnant, he was unusually indifferent.
“If you’re pregnant, then just have it. One more person doesn’t make any difference to me.”
When I was about to give birth, Cecilia said one word, and Ashton flew abroad with her, having a candlelight dinner at the fanciest restaurant.
When I had a difficult labor, the doctor called him.
Ashton’s voice was cold.
“Rescue however you want. I don’t want either of them anyway.”
In the end, I died in the delivery room. Ashton didn’t even come to see me once–it was my mom who brought my body home from the hospital.
Snapping back to reality, I pressed on my faintly aching heart, glanced at the two still kissing downstairs, and turned to go back inside without hesitation.
What Ashton didn’t know was that my junior actually really liked me.
He confessed to me with deep affection half a year ago, but I didn’t say
yes.
I took out my phone and typed a message.
“Hugo, help me put on a show. Let’s have a fake wedding next month.”
Not even a second later, Hugo Xander replied.
He agreed to this ridiculous wedding.
Initially, I planned to never see Ashton again
But the next day, my mom asked me to bring some souvenirs to his house.
The door opened, and Cecilia was standing inside.
It was obvious she had spent the night at Ashton’s place–the hickeys on her neck were very visible, trailing downward and disappearing into her red spaghetti–strap dress.
She looked me up and down, then deliberately tied up her hair to reveal even more of the marks.
