Chapter 37 Watching the Show
Chapter 37 Watching the Show
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Louis gave a small nod, then turned and walked away with those long strides of his. Freya, still wearing her apron, kept working. They’d come home later than usual today–if she didn’t hurry, dinner would be delayed, and she still wanted to get in some extra writing time tonight.
Once the food was ready and set on the table, Freya went to knock on Louis‘ door. Louis let go of his mouse and casually closed all the open tabs before getting up to eat. The two of them usually didn’t talk much. Freya never had the urge to start a conversation, and so far, they’d kept to their own routines–only speaking when something involved both of them. Most of the time, their meals followed the old rule: “Don’t talk while eating.”
But today was an exception. As soon as Louis sat down, he said, “Someone’s coming tomorrow to install the dishwasher.”
Freya paused mid–motion. “Dishwasher? You bought one? I thought you said I could take my time choosing.”
“You said you had decision paralysis. So I picked one for you. You just need to use it.” Now that Louis had a better understanding of Freya’s situation, he’d let down his guard a lot. He was also starting to get things around the house in order. After all, it wasn’t like he was trying to exploit her labor. She didn’t owe him anything–and on top of that, she’d been pretty good to him.
Freya didn’t know what to say. Maybe Louis didn’t want to owe her any favors. Or maybe to someone like him, buying something like a dishwasher just wasn’t a big deal. “Oh… I’ll try not to go out tomorrow, then.”
With that, the conversation ended, and they were about to get back to eating when Freya’s phone rang.
Since arriving in this world, her phone had barely rung at all. The original Freya’s immediate family had already passed away. As for the distant relatives–once they heard Louis had gone bankrupt, they were terrified she’d ask for money. Not only did they avoid her, some even blocked her.
Most of her so–called “friends” back then were just party acquaintances and pretentious types. Not worth mentioning. At first, a few had tried to contact her on WhatsApp–dropping subtle jabs here and there, clearly hoping to enjoy her misfortune. But after realizing she no longer responded in group chats, they lost interest.
These days, the only people who ever called were delivery drivers or service hotlines. Occasionally, Louis‘ number might appear unexpectedly. But at this hour, no one ever called.
Freya glanced at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?”
“Oh my gosh, Freya! Long time no see! I just got back from an overseas trip, How about meeting up tomorrow?”
The voice on the other end was cheerful and upbeat.
Freya instantly recognized who it was–the most dazzling member of her so–called “pretentious friends,” and pretty much the ringleader: Miss Susan of the Wynn family. This woman had always been good at playing nice–and just as good at playing fake. She’d acted like Freya’s close friend, but everything she’d involved the original Freya in was sketchy at best. Behind her back, she was always laughing at her.
“No need for a meetup. We were never really the same kind of people. Ms. Susan, you’re just hoping to catch me at a low point and get a good laugh. Unfortunately, I’ve got a clear head now, and I’m not here to entertain anyone. If you’ve got that much free time, you might want to focus more on your own love life.”
Miss Susan’s notorious love for partying–and the way it scared off all her potential suitors–was an open secret. If she wanted to mock Freya, then Freya wasn’t about to hold back. She’d go straight for the sore spot.
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