Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After…
Chapter 707 Shouldn’t I Be With Dalton?
Hearing that Meryl was willing to let him in, Dalton felt a flicker of hope. He tilted his head back arrogantly, throwing a disdainful glance at the bodyguards outside the door before strolling in with an air of entitlement, even taking the liberty to shut the door behind him. The bodyguards, not thrilled by this, immediately called Chandler, exaggerating the situation as they reported what was happening.
Inside the room, Dalton’s excitement was evident in his eyes. “Meryl, are you really divorcing Uncle Chandler?” Meryl frowned lightly, “What does that have to do with you? Did you barge in here in the middle of the night just to talk about this?” “Why wouldn’t it have something to do with me? You married Uncle Chandler because of me in the first place.” The faint smell of alcohol lingered on Dalton, but his mind seemed unusually clear. “You’re finally leaving him because you realized you never loved him, right?”
A glimmer of hope flickered in his gaze. “You still love me, don’t you? Just say the word, and I’ll take you away right now.”
Meryl stared at him as if he’d completely lost his mind. “My relationship with Chandler has nothing to do with you. Dalton, can you stop letting your imagination run wild? If this is all you came here to say, then you should leave.” The light in Dalton’s eyes dimmed, and his expression fell. Even if Meryl was leaving Chandler, there was no way she would choose him.
He looked at her, pain written all over his face. “Why? Why won’t you give me another chance? If you just say yes, I’d love you with everything I have—even my life.” Meryl’s tone was cold as she stared him down. “I already gave you your chance. In these past seven years, you had countless opportunities to prove yourself, but you never did. Dalton, it was you who chose to end our story.”
Dalton staggered back a few steps. At first, he thought Lydia was the obstacle between them. Then, he convinced himself it was Chandler. But now, he realized it was his own hesitation time and again that had cost him everything. He’d been out of the picture for a long time. Dalton felt as if a knife was twisting in his chest. The pain was so sharp it seemed to claw at his very core, making even breathing feel like torture.
What had once been the most beautiful admiration of his youth had now come to such a messy, unceremonious end. He stumbled out of the room, his whole demeanor lifeless, as if his soul had been stripped away.
When Chandler arrived at the hospital, this was the sight that greeted him–Dalton, looking utterly defeated, wandering out of Meryl’s room like a ghost. His eyes were vacant, his expression blank, and he didn’t even acknowledge Chandler’s presence, let alone say a word. Chandler frowned deeply and pushed open the door to Meryl’s room. “Meryl, Dalton didn’t try to-” Before he could finish, Meryl had already turned off the lights. The room plunged into darkness. Meryl pulled the covers over herself, clearly intent on going back to sleep.
Chandler approached her cautiously. “Meryl…” Without turning to face him, Meryl said flatly, “You’ve been drinking.” So, he hadn’t gone to see Rachel after all. Chandler didn’t deny it. “Just a little.” Meryl sighed, “I don’t like the smell of alcohol. You shouldn’t stay here tonight.”
Although the VIP room had all the comforts one could ask for, it only had one bed. Chandler, tall and broad-shouldered, didn’t fit well on the narrow sofa. Last night, he had sat by her bedside and spent the night there, but it was obvious neither of them had slept comfortably.
Chandler glanced at his sleeve and gave it a sniff. Sure enough, the scent of alcohol was strong. “It was Dante. He asked me to-” Meryl interrupted him mid-sentence, “I don’t care who invited you or where you went. None of that matters to me. I’m tired. You should go.” “Meryl…” Chandler tried to take her hand, but Meryl yanked it away forcefully. Chandler’s head was swimming from the alcohol, and it took all his willpower to stay upright. Still, he tugged the blanket up to her shoulders, his gaze softening. “Get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.” He turned to leave but hesitated after taking a few steps. “I’ll be right outside in the hallway. If you need anything, just call me.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and Meryl let out a deep breath. She thought, “It’s freezing outside. Is he really planning to spend the night in the hallway?” Meryl’s fingers curled slightly, her emotions unexpectedly turbulent. After twenty restless minutes, she got up and slipped on her shoes.
When she opened the door, she saw Chandler curled up on a hard bench in the hallway. The entire floor was silent, save for the whistling wind outside. Chandler, a towering man over six feet tall, was huddled under a thin coat. His face was pale, his posture uncomfortable, and he looked utterly exhausted. His hand rested over his eyes as if shielding himself from the light, but it was hard to tell if he was even asleep. He looked like a stray dog—abandoned, stubbornly waiting outside its owner’s door. At this rate, he’d definitely end up sick by morning.
Meryl stared at him for a long moment before quietly shutting the door again. Her eyes fell on the blanket draped over the sofa. She hesitated for a moment, then picked it up and stepped back into the hallway.
The sound of the door must have been louder than she thought, because Chandler stirred, blinking blearily at her. Seeing her approach with the blanket, his expression shifted to one of surprise and joy. His voice was hoarse as he whispered, “Meryl…” “I don’t want you catching a cold and giving it to me.” Her tone was icy, her gaze avoiding his as she tossed the blanket over him and turned back toward the room.
Chandler sat there, dazed, watching her retreating figure. He thought, “Does she really want a divorce?” The thought of losing her left him with a hollow ache. For some reason, Dalton’s earlier expression flashed through his mind—the same hopelessness and despair he’d seen just moments ago. He couldn’t bear the thought of Meryl looking at him the way she had looked at Dalton.
He thought, “Meryl is the only woman I have ever loved. And she has to feel something for me, too. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come out to give me the blanket. This couldn’t be the end for us.” Chandler pushed open the door, determination burning in his eyes.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms tightly around Meryl’s waist, pulling her close. “I don’t want a divorce,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “If you’re angry, hit me. Take it all out on me however you want, but please, Meryl, don’t leave me.” Meryl froze, caught off guard by Chandler’s sudden embrace. She felt the warmth of his tears sliding down her neck, only to cool as the night air brushed against them.
Her voice was light, almost weightless, as though it might be carried away by the wind. “When a relationship is broken, can two people truly act like nothing ever happened and move on? If that were the case, shouldn’t I still be with Dalton? What do you think, Chandler?” Her words struck Chandler like a dagger, sharp and merciless. He thought, “Does she really see me as no different from Dalton?”