Chapter 279
I self-deprecatingly tugged at my lips and said, “Even if you treat someone well, it doesn’t necessarily mean you like them, but if you treat someone very poorly, then you definitely dislike them.”
Jonathan chuckled, “Esmie, your words are so profound, they’re almost making me dizzy.”
“Actually,” he continued, “don’t be fooled by Reynaldo always looking fierce and evil towards you. I feel like he actually prefers you.”
I snorted in disbelief.
Jonathan muttered to himself, “Anyway, I really don’t like Kimberly at all. Having to take care of her today is unbearable; it’s like killing me.”
“If it weren’t for that big leather coat,” I thought, then exclaimed, “Oh, by the way, my leather coat! I have to go find Reynaldo for my leather coat!”
He mentioned he was about to find Reynaldo himself.
I grabbed him again and asked, “Don’t you know about Reynaldo’s past with Kimberly?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know; he never told me. But I’m also curious how he knows a country girl. Could it be…”
“What do you mean?” I asked, equally curious.
Chapter 279
But Jonathan was no longer willing to speak. He pushed my hand away, frowning. “Actually, you can go ask Reynaldo about his past yourself.”
“If he was willing to tell you,” he added, “he would definitely have told you. There are some things that are his sore spot; I dare not mention them, so Esmic, please don’t ask me either, okay?”
I pursed my lips, nodded, and didn’t ask any more questions. Indeed, some things one isn't willing to mention, even to oneself, let alone to others.
Just hearing Jonathan say that, I became even more curious about Reynaldo’s past.
Chapter 279
Now that I think about it, my specific impression of him started from that night of the class reunion. I woke up in his arms, completely naked. In a panic, it took me a long time to remember he was Winston’s brother. Before that, I didn’t have much of an impression of him. After marriage, I wasn't interested in him as a person, or even his past; I never wanted to know. And yet, at that moment, a great curiosity arose in my heart, and I was eager to know everything about him. But if I were to ask him, would he tell me? A person’s private life isn't something anyone can intrude upon.
Moreover, I was someone he despised.
When I returned to the room, I saw Reynaldo’s suitcase. His suitcase being there suggested he might return to rest tonight. Also, the presidential suite should have been reserved for him in the first place. This room wasn’t mine.
I opened the box, took out my clothes, and packed them in a bag. I carried my belongings, ready to find Jonathan and ask where my room was. As soon as I opened the door, I saw him passing by. I hurriedly called out, “Mr. Dunlap, wa…”
Jonathan paused, turned, and asked, “What’s up, Esmie?”
“Excuse me, where is my room?”
Jonathan looked puzzled. “Isn’t this your room?”
He looked at my bag. “Don’t you want to stay in this room? This is the only presidential suite I booked; it’s the best room in this hotel.”
“But this was Reynaldo’s room.”
Jonathan chuckled, “Isn’t his room just your room? You used to be husband and wife; you’ve already slept together. Why bother making such a clear distinction?”