Chapter 287

I pursed my lips, and the heat on my body and the palpitations in my heart gradually dissipated. I said to him, “Actually… I didn’t really want to ask you anything; I just wanted to ask if it’s true that you’re going to give me a monthly salary of 100,000.”

“You lied!” he roared. “What you want to ask me clearly isn’t this!”

“What I want to ask is this: that hundred-thousand-dollar monthly salary is very important to me. I hope Mr. Humphrey will keep his word.”

“Mr. Humphrey?” Reynaldo took a step back, the gentle feeling vanishing instantly. His dark eyes slowly turned crimson, a visible flash of disappointment and self-mockery in them. He said, “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell the truth!”

I suppressed the trembling and inexplicable discomfort surging in my heart and calmly said, “What I just said was the truth.”

“Esmeralda!” he gritted his teeth, glaring with anger and sorrow. “Why do you always do this—giving me hope, then crushing it with your own hands? Do you feel a sense of accomplishment by hurting me like this? You are a heartless, selfish, malicious, and cold-blooded materialistic woman! I hate you!”

The tenderness and disappointment in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a strong sense of hatred—a hatred that seemed to want to devour me. He pushed me hard; I stumbled back, my legs hitting the bed, causing me to fall heavily.

He smiled coldly. “I will never have any thoughts about you again. A woman like you, full of flaws and a heart of stone, is not worth anyone’s affection.”

“So… when you say this, does it mean that you… like me?” I tightened the sheets and asked subconsciously the moment he turned. I regretted it instantly. He had been asking me this question, and I had been avoiding it. I had decided not to ask. It’s ridiculous that the question came out so easily. My heart wasn’t firm enough, was it?

Reynaldo froze. He didn’t turn around; a cold, sarcastic voice came, “Like you? Is that possible?” He left immediately, slamming the door shut. I lowered my head and smiled sadly. So, that question shouldn’t have been asked, right?

Thinking of his angry departure, I laughed at myself, but my heart ached, and waves of grievance surged. He always condemned me as if I had hurt his heart, but did he ever consider how he hurt me every time because of Kimberly? Emotions are mutual. He couldn’t give me definite love, so why should I respond definitively? He could abandon me for Kimberly today, and he could harm me and my child for her in the future. This question, in itself, had no answer. So, without fantasizing, without expecting, without opening up, you will never get hurt. Was I wrong to protect myself like this?

After Reynaldo left, I walked to the window… (The passage ends abruptly here.)