Chapter 447 The Ghost Between Them
Maine instinctively glanced at Wyatt when she heard Yunice’s question, but quickly shifted her gaze and fired back at Yunice instead. “Everyone has a past. Haven’t you?”
Digging into someone’s history like this–especially in front of a crowd–was, in her eyes, petty.
Besides, everyone knew Yunice had been engaged to someone else for over a decade. What right did she have to question anyone’s past?
The room went silent for a few seconds before Wyatt finally said, “One.”
The ripple was immediate. It was as if a stone had been dropped into still water–silent, but deep.
Their expressions flickered briefly before everyone quickly played it cool and changed the topic.
“Maine, challenge failed. Bottoms up!” someone called.
It was an obvious attempt to defuse the situation and offer Maine an out.
Maine didn’t argue. She downed her drink and let the moment pass.
Now it was her turn to spin the bottle.
She tried her best to aim it at Yunice, but luck–or fate–wasn’t on her side. The bottle turned just past Yunice and stopped squarely in front of Wyatt.
Maine clenched her fingers for a moment, then, despite herself, asked the question that had been clawing at her: “Truth or dare–do you have any regrets so far?”
Yunice subtly watched the expressions of those around her.
Wyatt’s voice answered calmly, “No.”
The light in Maine’s eyes seemed to flicker out.
She forced a smile. “So you’re completely satisfied with the way things are.”
Yunice’s fingers lightly tapped the side of her glass.
Everyone thought she couldn’t read between the lines of this close-knit group’s coded conversations—but in truth, she understood everything perfectly.
She knew exactly what Maine meant by “regret.” It was about the woman Wyatt kept hidden away at the Gardison Residence–his old flame.
So now that he was married to Yunice, did he regret not being with her?
Wyatt said he didn’t.
It was a jarring question.
And a sobering answer.
Yunice didn’t know whether he and his former lover had truly broken up, but judging by how often he still visited her, she clearly still had a place in his heart.
Yunice could also guess that this ex had once been a part of this very circle–and had likely been well-liked.
So to them, Yunice must’ve seemed like a thief of someone else’s happiness.
Or worse–a homewrecker.
She felt an unexpected hollowness.
They all saw each other as rivals, as threats. But from where she stood, she hadn’t done anything wrong.
No one had ever told her the truth–so what gave them the right to judge her?
For the rest of the game, the bottle never once pointed to Yunice. It was as if it deliberately avoided her every time.
But she knew better.
Back in the mental institution, Kingsley had taught her that luck wasn’t random–it was manipulated.
Games that pretended to rely on chance were always prearranged.
If someone wanted the bottle to miss her, it would.
And in this group, only Wyatt would go out of his way to ensure that.
Eventually, the fun wore off, and the game was called off early.
Wyatt had the server put everything on his tab.
Yunice noticed Maine get up to go to the restroom and followed after, grabbing her bag on the way.
By the time she entered, Maine was already inside a stall.
Yunice took the one next to hers.
The walls weren’t soundproof. Yunice clearly heard Maine’s voice, low and tight: “Can you bring me a pad? Yeah… it started.”
A few minutes later, the sound of heels approached, followed by another woman’s voice:
“Not to be rude, but why are you always so hard on Yunice?”
Yunice recognized her–another woman from the private room.
There was the rustle of movement, then Maine’s voice. “I just can’t stand the way Wyatt tossed Nora aside like that.”
“If you’ve got a problem with Wyatt, go after him. What did Yunice do? When she came into the picture Nora was already in a coma.”
“She’s not a homewrecker. And we all agreed to keep Nora a secret–so how is she anything but innocent?”
Maine said nothing for a long moment. Then came the sound of the stall door opening.
“I just can’t stand that smug look on her face. If Nora hadn’t fallen into a coma, she wouldn’t have had the chance to climb her way up.”
“You can’t expect her to just take a beating and smile. If someone slaps her, of course she’s going to hit back,” the other woman replied. “And if Wyatt had married someone who just sat there and took it, wouldn’t you have a problem with that too?”
They moved to the sinks, washing their hands as the woman added, “You’re not mad at Yunice–you’re grieving for Nora. But what’s the point? Nora’s been unconscious for three years. Every top medical expert has said there’s no chance she’ll ever wake up.”
“Wyatt’s still young. You expect him to waste the rest of his life on someone who’s essentially already gone? Even if he hadn’t chosen Yunice, he’d have chosen someone else. The only comfort is, Yunice and Nora look kind of alike. Maybe that’s his way of not letting go.”