Chapter 144 Lies
Before Brian could utter another word, Rachel interjected, her voice steady and composed. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry, you can pin everything on me. Just tell your grandparents it’s all my fault. I can take all the blame. I’ll even help you explain things if needed.” Her tone was unwavering, as though bearing the weight
of the blame meant nothing to her.
Brian’s sharp gaze locked onto hers, his expression unreadable. “You’re that eager to call off the wedding?”
Rachel’s lips curled into a faint, almost indifferent smile. “Yes,” she confirmed without hesitation. “The sooner this is over, the sooner I can move forward. I’m not getting any younger, Brian. I can’t afford to waste time.” She paused, her fingers clenching before she continued, her voice lighter, “Besides, you’ve waited for Tracy for so many years. It’s time you marry her.”
From this moment onward, their paths would unlikely cross again. Though Rachel had braced herself for this moment, the reality hit her with pain so profound that it left her breathless.
Brian’s voice carried a mix of confusion and desperation as he posed his question. “Can I ask you something?” His gaze fixed intently on her.
“Of course, go ahead!” Rachel maintained her composure, forcing a smile despite the tension.
“Why would you insist on advancing our wedding date if you’re already seeing him? And giving me a surprise visit overseas, what was the purpose?” Brian’s tone intensified, his frustration evident as he clenched his fists.
He paused, the silence in the room thickening. “Why, Rachel? I need an explanation.”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” Rachel queried, her expression solemn.
Brian’s expression was resolute. “I need to understand.”
Taking a deep breath, she gave a resigned nod. “The explanation is quite straightforward. I once considered his modest background insufficient to help me achieve what I needed, so I relied on your social standing. I aimed to expedite our wedding for merely one specific benefit.”
“For what?” Brian demanded, his voice edged with tension.
“To secure Jeffrey’s custody,” Rachel stated, each word measured and deliberate as she held Brian’s gaze. “I consulted Eric Riley, who confirmed that your financial and social influence would significant for Jeffrey’s custody if we were married. So yes, I used you. I won’t pretend otherwise.”
er my case
Brian’s reaction was a profound shock; his face contorted as he processed her admission. The revelation seemed to strike him with the force of a physical blow, leaving him visibly shaken.
Seeing his incredulity, Rachel continued, “If you have doubts about my intentions, I encourage you to speak with Eric. He’s been privy to all my plans, and he’s bound by honesty to tell you the truth.”
However, Brian, still grappling with disbelief and fading hope, sought clarification on another matter close to
Chapter 144 Lies
his heart. “And what about Kiss Day?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. That day had felt real, Rachel seeking him out, their time together in the square, the intimacy of the hot air balloon. It couldn’t have all been
an act.
“Kiss Day?” Rachel let out a soft, rueful chuckle. “Maybe it was my way of surrendering, I knew Tracy would
come for you. And she did, just as I anticipated. Seeing you two together… it lessened some of the weight on
my conscience.”
Brian’s gaze upon Rachel was sharp, tinged with betrayal. The day he had savored as a romantic gesture was, in
her eyes, merely a strategy to alleviate her guilty.
“You anticipated Tracy would come?” Brian’s voice was laced with disbelief.
“Yes,” Rachel confirmed, her tone resolute.
“You knew I would leave with her that day?” he pressed.
“Yes,” she answered again.
Each of his questions was met with her candid responses, stripped of any pretense or evasion. There was no attempt to soften the blow or disguise the truth.
“Then let’s part ways with grace,” Rachel said, her voice gentle but resolute. Even as they stood on the brink of separation, she wanted to preserve the fragments of what they had shared, to part with dignity rather than let
it dissolve into resentment or regret.
Overwhelmed by the conversation, Brian felt his energy had been sapped. He did not reply, he simply turned and silently left the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Rachel wrapped herself in a towel and methodically dried her hair. After some time, she emerged, moving towards the wardrobe to select her clothes with a nonchalant air.
“What are you doing?” Brian’s voice was low as he clasped her wrist, his eyes piercing and unyielding.
Rachel exhaled softly, her weariness outweighing any desire to protest. “If we’re saying goodbye, let’s make it final,” she murmured. “My hair’s dry. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve changed.”
Brian’s fingers tightened instinctively, his tone rough with suppressed emotion. “Stay. Just for tonight.”
“No,” Rachel replied, her voice steady but quiet. She couldn’t bear the thought of prolonging this undefined connection, where every moment felt like a fragile thread threatening to unravel.
“You have my word; I won’t cross any lines.” His voice firm yet tinged with desperation. When Rachel remained silent, he pressed further, “It’s too late to go out alone. It isn’t safe.”
Sighing, her gaze lowered as she considered her words. “Fine,” she finally agreed.
Still draped in a towel, she retreated to change into her nightclothes. When she emerged, Brian was already on the bed, his imposing figure stretched across the mattress. He had drawn back the blankets on her side, a
silent invitation.
Accepting the inevitability of the situation, Rachel slid under the covers, her voice barely audible. “Thank you. I’m really tired, so I’ll rest now.”
Brian’s lips parted as if to speak, but the words seemed to dissolve before they could form. In the end, he
Chapter 144 Lies
simply nodded. “Alright.”
Rachel settled into the bed, the soft rustling of the sheets the only sound in the otherwise still room. She pulled the covers gently over herself, the warmth of the fabric a brief comfort against the chill of the night. Her body, once lively and full of energy, now felt delicate and fragile, worn down by illness, travel, and the relentless toll of dialysis. At this moment, she felt smaller than ever, a tiny figure curled near the edge of the bed as though trying to take up as little space as possible.
Brian’s hand moved instinctively as if to pull her closer, but the memory of her earlier resistance stopped him in his tracks. His hand hovered briefly, then fell slowly to his side, the weight of unspoken words and past hesitation hanging in the air. He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
“You don’t need to sleep on the edge,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “There’s plenty of room, and the covers are wide enough. You can move a little closer.”
Rachel tightened her grip on the edge of the blanket, her fingers pale against the fabric. “Thank you, but it’s really not necessary,” she whispered.
She had always struggled with a deep sense of insecurity. The notion of sharing a bed with him used to bring her a kind of quiet solace, but now it felt almost foreign. Back then, she’d often find herself gravitating toward him in the dark, her body instinctively reaching out for the warmth he emitted. Her limbs would seek him out, weaving around him as if drawn by some unspoken need.
It wasn’t just a matter of comfort. She was perpetually cold, shivering even in the warmth of thick blankets. But it went deeper than that. There was an innate fear that gripped her heart in the quiet hours of the night. She was terrified that this fragile sense of connection might slip away, that the world they had built together might be an illusion.
That fear once compelled Rachel to cling to Brian, her arms encircling him like an anchor as if she might lose him in sleeping. He was her reassurance, her constant. But now, everything had shifted.
Tonight, the room felt colder, even though the air remained still. The bed, wide and spacious, felt like a chasm between them. Each of them lay facing away from the other, the physical distance an almost tangible barrier. There were no quiet breaths shared, no unspoken comfort in their proximity. It was as if an invisible wall stood between them, silent and unyielding.
