[My heart breaks for this poor woman!!! She deserved so much better!!!]
The comments section of the original video was now a warzone, filled with vitriol directed at Christian and Lily.
As for me, while it wasn’t as extreme, my phone was blowing up with messages and calls. Some were from strangers wanting the inside scoop,
others were from mutual friends of Christian and me.
I ignored them all.
The only thing that surprised me was the complete silence from Christian. It was strange. I had just publicly humiliated him, and he hadn’t made a
single move.
17
I couldn’t believe it, until I got a call from the real estate agent.
“Ms. Kingsley, there’s a problem with the sale of your house. Could you come back and deal with it?”
Confused, I booked a flight back.
As soon as I got out of the taxi, I saw the agent. He looked at me like I was his savior. “Ms. Kingsley, you’re finally back! It’s your husband. He hea-
rd you were selling the house, and he’s refusing to let it go.”
He quickly filled me in.
I had to laugh. So that’s what Christian had been up to. He was waiting for me here.
“I’ll handle it.”
I sent the agent away and called Christian. He didn’t answer, so I went straight to his office.
Unlike last time, the receptionist didn’t even ask, just waved me upstairs. The young woman who had greeted me before was now standing resp-
ectfully by Christian’s office door. “Mr. Frost is waiting for you inside.”
I glanced at her, but my gaze was really on Lily, who was now relegated to a desk in the corner. I remembered her previous post, right next to Chri-
stian’s office. She’d been demoted.
Lily saw me, and her eyes burned with hatred. If looks could kill, I’d be covered in holes.
I ignored her and pushed the door open.
The moment I saw the office, I felt a flicker of disorientation. All traces of Lily were gone. It was as if the room had been reset to its original state.
Christian was sitting in the large leather chair behind his desk. Framed by the massive floor–to–ceiling window, his thin figure looked tired and def-
eated.
Lonely
Well, with the recent scandal, his company’s stock had taken a nosedive. He’d be a fool not to be stressed.
But… what did that have to do with me?
“If I remember correctly, you agreed to give me this house,” I said, walking towards him.
He looked up, his gaze deep and intense. “Claire, what did you mean by ‘regret‘?”
His question was so out of left field, it threw me for a loop. But then I realized. He was talking about the video.
When the interviewer had asked me what I’d say to my past self, my answer was: “Claire Kingsley, don’t marry Christian Frost. You’ll regret it.”
Chapter 2
1119
Five years ago, when we were getting our marriage license, he had asked me, his eyes red with tears, “Claire, marrying me means you’ll suffer.
Will you regret it?”
Back then, my answer was: “No.”
Now, Christian was asking me what I meant by regret.
“You don’t understand?” I couldn’t help but find it funny, and my voice was tinged with cold amusement.
18
The mockery on my face seemed to sting him. Christian’s face went white.
He stood up and walked towards me, each step seeming to take a monumental effort. “But I never regretted it. Claire, I never regretted marrying
you. How can you regret it? You used to say you wouldn’t.”
His eyes were red, just like they had been five years ago. But this time, I wouldn’t be moved.
“You said it yourself. That was the past.”
People change, don’t they? That was a lesson Christian himself had taught me. Now that the boomerang had come back to hit him, why couldn’t
he accept it?
Christian stared at me, his eyes full of hurt. He seemed to be searching for something in my gaze. When he didn’t find it, his eyes flickered away,
and he asked, his voice trembling, “Claire, you’re doing all this because you’re still mad, right?
“You still have feelings for me, that’s why you’re saying these things. You still love me, right?”
He asked me twice, his eyes desperately searching my face for a reaction.
But I was perfectly calm. In fact, his questions just made me frown.
“Love? What’s that?”
We were two people who had already signed divorce papers. What love could there be?
Oh, I had loved him once. But didn’t he personally throw that away?
My eyes were full of scorn.
“I didn’t! Claire, I didn’t! I love you! The things I said about divorce, those were just angry words. I never wanted to divorce you,” Christian argued
loudly.
He suddenly pulled me into a tight hug, repeating himself over and over. He wanted a response from me. Our hugs used to be so powerful, so connected. But since he got with Lily, I couldn’t even remember the last time we had embraced.
Christian got no response from me. He let go, only to be met with my cold, indifferent expression.
He started to panic. His hands, gripping my shoulders, were trembling and slick with sweat.
“Claire, you can’t divorce me. If you do, you won’t get a single penny.
“And your mother. I won’t give the hospital another cent. She’ll die.”
He was “threatening” me. He tried to sound fierce and cold, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his panic.
I looked up, my gaze calm and steady, meeting his. “Christian, you don’t know, do you? My mother passed away.”
During our separation, I had tried to message him. Before I could even say anything, he had blocked me.
Christian, your threats mean nothing to me. If I cared about money, I wouldn’t have been with you when you had nothing.
But I still felt a deep, bitter hatred.
