Chapter 95

Afraid Rosalie would refuse again, Sean quickly said, “If Anya finds out I let you walk off alone, she’ll kill me.”

Thinking of Anya’s no-nonsense attitude, Rosalie chuckled. “Alright, thanks.” Judging by Sean’s demeanor, he wasn’t taking no for an answer anyway, so Rosalie didn't bother arguing.

As they went downstairs, Sean asked, “So how’d you get hurt?”

Rosalie frowned, thinking back. She couldn't remember the exact moment, but it was probably from that night at Anya’s Lounge when she got drunk. She replied casually, “I drank too much the other night. Didn’t watch where I was going and stepped on some glass.”

Hearing this, Sean raised his brows. “You were drinking because of the divorce, weren’t you!”

Rosalie internally rolled her eyes. “Geeze, nobody asked you to play detective. Maybe try not running your mouth for once and just walk, okay!” She already regretted letting Sean walk her downstairs; he talked way too much. She’d always wondered how Julian, who barely spoke a hundred words a day, managed to get along with him.

Seeing Rosalie’s silence, Sean assumed he’d hit the mark. He continued, “I knew it. Julian’s a piece of shit. Roseanne left him ages ago, and he’s still hung up on her? He’s such a jerk.”

Hearing Sean’s outburst, Rosalie almost laughed. Wow, she thought, This guy really knows how to rub salt in a wound.

If I were still the Rosalie from my last life, I’d be fuming. Hell, I’d storm into Julian’s office and start a fight. But now, it’s just comedy.

Before Sean could continue, Rosalie interrupted, “My ride’s here. You can go back to work.”

She gestured toward a striking red Ferrari that had just arrived. A man stepped out, and Sean’s expression changed the moment he saw him. The man was as flashy as his car. Dressed in a pastel pink suit—bold but not tacky—he possessed a sharp, effortless style that could rival Julian’s.

Sean’s eyes widened. He glanced from the man to Rosalie, a sudden alarm going off in his head. He muttered, Shit, Julian’s about to get seriously cheated on.

The man greeted her casually. “Hey, Rosalie.”

Rosalie handed him her crutch and said, “Come on and help me.” Her tone was easy and familiar, further fueling Sean’s internal panic.

Julian might be a jerk, but as his childhood friend, Sean couldn't stand by and watch his best friend’s wife be taken.

Rosalie, oblivious to Sean’s thoughts, turned to him. “I’m leaving. You should go back.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay, be careful,” Sean replied, his gaze lingering on the man, his expression subtly wary.

Once in the car, Eden asked thoughtfully, “Who was that guy? He looked at me with hostility.”

“He’s Sean Perry,” Rosalie replied, fastening her seatbelt. “He doesn’t even know you. How could he possibly…”