Chapter 337

“I told you you don’t owe me anything, but you kept saying you owed me from our marriage. Fine, you helped me out a few times, and I’m grateful. The only way I could repay you was with money, and, well, with my body too. But apparently, that’s still not enough.”

Jonathan said, “Yes, it’s enough.” He raised a hand in surrender, unwilling to argue further. He unlocked his car, preparing to leave.

“From now on, Teresa,” he said, “go for any guy you want—short, broke, scheming, or even a sixty-year-old bald guy. It’s your business. If you can’t cook ribs, not my problem, even if you burn down the kitchen. I will take back the money I gave you for the car. You don’t owe me anything.”

He got into his car and drove off. Michael, witnessing this from upstairs, was about to rush down, but Miriam spotted a red Volvo nearby and quickly grabbed his arm, instructing him to stay put.

Just as Teresa was turning to go upstairs, she heard someone shout, “Stop right there, Teresa.” The red Volvo’s owner was Irene, who had been there for some time but remained in her car upon seeing Jonathan.

Irene stopped in front of Teresa, her expression a mixture of disappointment in Jonathan's stubbornness and anger toward Teresa. Of course, she would never be angry with her son.

“I was wondering why Jonathan’s been hanging around Everport,” Irene said. “His uncle even caught him getting cozy with a woman. I actually thought he might have finally figured things out. My foolish son.” She paused, then demanded, confused, “Weren’t you in Fernlandia? Who said you could come back?”

Teresa let out a cold laugh. That happy family moment—the three of them shopping, Jonathan pushing the cart, Michael running ahead—was just a dream, a fact instantly apparent upon Irene’s arrival.

“I only promised I wouldn’t go back to Nareigh,” Teresa said. “Did I ever say I’d stay overseas forever? I can go wherever I want. I am free.”

“You promised you wouldn’t get tangled up with Jonathan, but here you are, still seeing him,” Irene retorted.

“Your son keeps pestering me,” Teresa explained. “We just happened to run into each other in Everport. I told him to go back to Nareigh, but he wouldn’t leave.”

But Teresa was no match for Irene, who secretly activated her phone's recorder and slipped it into her pocket.

“So are you saying it’s Jonathan’s fault? He’s the one being pathetic? He’s pestering you? Is that it?” Irene pressed.

“I never said that,” Teresa replied, completely baffled. “Are you really calling your own son pathetic?”

“So you’re really disgusted by Jonathan, right?” Irene persisted.

“I am disgusted by you,” Teresa said coldly, unconcerned about Irene’s feelings. “There are only two people I truly hate in this world—one’s already dead, and the other is you.”

Irene gritted her teeth. “You!” she muttered, wondering if Teresa wished her dead.

Teresa soon left. Irene stormed into her car, saved the recording, and then sent it to Jonathan after having a professional audio editor rearrange the order.

Jonathan didn’t even bother listening to the recording. He immediately called Irene.

Irene was exasperated. “You never answer your phone when I call you. Your phone’s always turned off, or you’re busy in a meeting. But the second you know it’s about Teresa, you fidget like a restless rat.”

Jonathan was speechless at the rat comparison.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in Everport? What were you doing looking for her?” he asked.

“I wasn’t looking for Teresa!” Irene insisted. “I ran into her on the street. Who knew she’d say something like that? Just listen to it and you’ll know what she said.”

Jonathan opened the file.