Chapter 21: Another Possibility
Fletcher and I parted ways in an unspoken tension.
But this time, I wasn’t as panicked.
Fletcher was ruthless, but with Davina in his life, he had a weakness.
I slept soundly through the night, but upon. waking, I noticed a few unread messages on my phone.
They were from Adeline.
We’d exchanged contact information at Winston’s birthday party.
“Charlene, are you really in a relationship with Winston?”
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A gossip inquiry.
It seemed she had seen that post too.
I repeated the explanation I gave Davina yesterday to Adeline, ending with, “Please help me clear things up with the others.”
Adeline was surprisingly kind and agreed immediately.
Still, thinking about how this might affect Winston personally left me uneasy. So, I dialed his number.
“So, is this why you’re calling me so early?” Winston’s tone was indifferent as he asked, “Charlene, do you really think I’m that petty?”
“Winston, I-”
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“And as for the rumors with you, it’s an honor.” Winston interrupted me, his voice warm and comforting like the midday sun in autumn.
“I’ve got things to do, you go ahead with yours.” I quickly ended the call.
It wasn’t that I was trying to dodge Winston. Calculating the time, today marked the second day my uncle–in–law Miles Walker was in Myslana, and I needed to go see him.
The address was in an ordinary residential area in the eastern district of Myslana.
When I arrived at the staff dorms with fruit in hand, his colleague told me Miles was on the morning shift and had already gone to patrol the commercial street.
I politely handed out the fruit and then made
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my way to the street corner to find him.
I hadn’t wall
far when I heard Miles‘ voice, shaky and fragmented, and my heart skipped a beat. I rushed toward him.
A middle–aged woman with dark yellow–dyed hair, bright red lipstick, and dressed in a chic, Chanel–style outfit was pointing at Miles and talking nonstop.
“When did our neighborhood become so low–class? Did they hire a security guard or bring in a thief?”
The usually shy and awkward Miles clasped his hands nervously, apologizing as he stammered, “I just… thought no one would want… I’m not a thief.”
His complexion glistened with sweat, and his eyes were filled with embarrassment.
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“Miles.”
Miles turned at the sound of my voice, and upon seeing me, a genuine smile flashed across his simple face before he quickly lowered his head, looking embarrassed.
Miles had a stutter.
He was probably worried about losing face in front of me. At that moment, his head hung low, as if he had done something wrong.
I stood in front of him and looked at the middle–aged woman. “Excuse me, ma’am, could it be some kind of misunderstanding?”
The woman tilted her chin arrogantly and said, “Who are you to this thief?”
The word “thief” immediately attracted a
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crowd of onlookers.
“Ma’am,” I said, scanning the pile of discarded boxes at her feet, “you’re accusing him of being a thief. Do you have any proof?”
She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so assertive. Pointing at me, she said, “You don’t admit it, huh? My boxes were placed neatly at my door, and he just took them without a word. Isn’t that stealing?”
I immediately understood.
Miles had always been kind, the type who was more likely to be taken advantage of than to commit any crime. There was no way he would steal anything.
I glanced at a nearby snack shop and said, “Ma’am, this is a commercial street. The area where you’ve thrown your cardboard boxes
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is managed by the property service. Since Miles works here, it’s his duty to help keep the street clean. As for your accusation of theft…”
I paused, then added, “Ma’am, who would steal something in broad daylight like that?”
The woman was left speechless, her face reddening as she stomped her foot and retorted, “He took the boxes without saying a word. Isn’t that stealing?”
I turned to Miles, speaking patiently, “Is that what happened?”
Miles looked at me, shook his head, and explained, “I… I told the… shopkeeper.”
At that, the woman was silenced.
The onlookers, unable to tolerate it any
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longer, chimed in, “It’s just a few cardboard boxes, why make a big deal out of it?”
“Exactly, he has a tough job too, don’t make a fuss over it.”
The woman, growing increasingly agitated, waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, it’s not a big deal. Just go, go!”
She acted as though she was shooing away beggars.
I looked at Miles, who didn’t want to argue, and felt a pang of frustration in my chest.
I couldn’t help but feel bitter as I watched Miles, who was too unwilling to argue. Was it really fair that because of his stutter, he had to endure having his dignity trampled in front of everyone?
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I took a deep breath and said seriously, “Ma’am, since the matter has been cleared up, don’t you think you owe us an apology?”
The woman turned in surprise, glaring at me. “Apologize for what? Are you trying to make a scene?”
Her arrogant tone made it seem like we were the ones causing trouble.
I positioned myself protectively beside Miles, and spoke seriously, “You must apologize to Miles.”
The woman, rolling up her sleeves, was about to say something, but was interrupted by a voice.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
The voice sounded so familiar.
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I turned towards the source and immediately spotted the Maybach parked by the side of the road.
Standing in front of the car were Fletcher and Davina.
Fletcher was holding two bottles of wine, looking like the perfect son–in–law making his first visit.
It suddenly dawned on me why I had felt a sense of familiarity when I first saw Miles‘ workplace.
It turned out that Davina also lived here.
Clearly, this middle–aged woman was Davina’s mother, Callie Miller.
Davina, dressed in a light blue knitted dress
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and wearing small black boots, walked up to us with a surprised look. “Charlene, how come you’re here?”
Upon hearing her voice, Callie glanced at me warily, adjusting her ill–fitting Chanel jacket, and asked, “Vina, is this Charlene Grande, the one you always talk about?”
Davina froze for a moment before quickly regaining her composure. “Yes, Charlene has always taken good care of me at the company”
Callie gave me a longer look, and her tone softened noticeably. “Ms. Grande, this is all a misunderstanding. Please don’t take it to heart.”
Since she had already said so, if I pressed the issue, it would seem petty. Considering that Miles would continue working here, I
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decided to downplay the situation. “Now that it’s cleared up, there’s no need to dwell on it.”
Callie visibly relaxed, her gaze swiftly shifting from me to Fletcher. She smiled and said, “Vina, is this Mr. Lynton?”
Fletcher, dressed in a dark–patterned suit, looked every bit the gentleman, with his handsome features causing Callie to smile widely.
It made sense. With Fletcher’s looks and assets, there probably weren’t many mothers–in–law who would have complaints, especially since he had money.
Fletcher, adopting the demeanor of a polite son–in–law, greeted her, “Good day, Mrs. Bates.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than
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Miles, standing next to me, visibly stiffened. I belatedly realized what was happening and grabbed his arm. “We still have things to do, so we’ll take our leave now.”
But Miles didn’t want to leave. His eyes were locked on Fletcher with an intensity that could have burned through steel.
His gaze was full of distaste, and he didn’t try to hide it.
Fletcher, quick to sense the challenge in his eyes, frowned slightly.
I felt a pang of anxiety in my chest and a cold sweat break out. I could only plead, “Miles, I’m hungry…”
Upon hearing this, Miles seemed to be struck by lightning. Reluctantly, he shifted his gaze and shot me a pained look, but after a
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moment, his expression softened slightly.
That was the first thing I said when I woke up after something that had happened.
Just then, Davina suddenly spoke up, “Charlene, if you don’t mind, how about having lunch at my place? My dad’s cooking is quite good.”
For
a moment, I didn’t know how to respond.
Fletcher came to visit her family, but why would she still feel the need to invite us?
After a moment, I realized she probably just wanted to be polite, with Fletcher right there.
But this time, Miles’s face remained stoic as he spoke, “No need, I… I’ll cook for Lena.”
His tone was firm to the point of stiffness.
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Back at the staff dormitory, as he had promised, Miles used the shared kitchen to make us two dishes and a soup.
The vegetables were ones he and Sabrina had grown back home.
Looking at the man in front of me this middle–aged man whose face now showed the weight of time–I felt a lump in my throat, and tears almost welled up in my eyes.
“There are… many good men…” he passed me the knife and fork. “Lena, you’re excellent… you’ll… find someone else.”
I choked back a bite of food, my chest aching with so much pain it almost felt suffocating.
On the way back, I immediately called
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Kaitlyn.
“Are you really going to contact Leon?” Kaitlyn was puzzled. “But he’s such a big shot, would he even care about us?”
I calmed myself. “We have to try!”
Only by trying could we know if there was another possibility.
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