Chapter 11
#258 Vouchers
“Are you really… really going to get a divorce?”
Patricia looked up, her pale lips trembling slightly, but a flash of joy flickered in her eyes. She threw herself into Tim- othy’s arms.
“I thought… I’d never have the chance to be with you again in this lifetime.”
Timothy froze for a moment, then reached out to wrap his arms around her thin shoulders.
He clearly liked Patricia very much and wanted to marry her, but a dull ache inexplicably rose in his chest.
He subconsciously rubbed his temples, thinking it was probably due to his sleepless night that even his emotions had become overly sensitive.
“Get some proper rest. We’ll marry once you’ve recovered.”
He patted Patricia’s back, his voice softening involuntarily.
Mrs. Campbell immediately asked when she saw the doctor enter.
“How’s my daughter?”
“Don’t worry, there’s nothing physically wrong with the patient. She fainted from temporary shock caused by extreme fright.”
The doctor removed his stethoscope.
“Keep her overnight for observation. She can be discharged tomorrow if there are no complications.”
Hearing this, Mr. Campbell’s tense shoulders instantly relaxed where he sat nearby.
Patricia tugged Timothy’s sleeve just then, her voice pleading, “Timothy, I’m starving. I want those soup dumplings from the corner shop.”
“Alright, wait here. I’ll get them now.”
Timothy agreed instantly. As he was turning, he collided with his bodyguard rushing through the doorway–hands bloodstained.
This was the very man who’d pulled Shirley from the cliff edge.
“Where’s Shirley? Why isn’t she here?”
The bodyguard hesitated. Timothy never asked about his wife’s whereabouts before.
“Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Mitchell didn’t come to the hospital with us.”
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Chapter 11
288 Vouchers
He lowered his voice.
“But she left a gift for you in the car… for your birthday. Should I fetch it now?”
Timothy froze mid–step. She did mention preparing a present-
But her giving gifts isn’t strange at all. For years she’d been sending presents, but Timothy never cared.
He recalled Shirley’s message from their phone call and felt inexplicably irritated.
“Just leave it there.” His tone was icy. “Probably something unimportant. I’m not in the mood right now.”
He turned to leave when his bodyguard added, “Mrs. Campbell insisted you open this one personally.”
Timothy snorted coldly.
Playing hard to get when they’re divorcing?
He checked his phone and headed toward the elevator.
“Tell her I’m not interested. And she should stop sending things. I never liked them anyway–gonna throw it away lat-
er.”
As the metal doors slid shut, Shirley’s face surfaced in his mind for some reason.
Shirley always claimed to have a sensitive stomach, yet habitually brewed strong coffee whenever she worked late nights. Despite her fear of heights, she’d eagerly accompany him on mountain hikes.
Just last week when he casually mentioned craving Maple–Glazed Salmon Plate, she’d placed her homemade version on the dining table the very next day.
“Sir? What flavor of dessert would you like?” The clerk’s voice snapped him back to reality.
“One of each flavor, please.”
Timothy accepted the paper bag, his fingernails digging unconsciously into his palms.
After mere years of marriage, those little gestures of consideration from Shirley weren’t worth dwelling on. He didn’t love her anyway.
Returning to the hospital, Patricia beamed with delight.
“You’re the best!”
Timothy handed her the desserts with a practiced smile, his mind still tracing Shirley’s whereabouts.
His phone screen suddenly lit up at that moment.
He quickly checked it only to find it wasn’t a message from Shirley.
Timothy felt inexplicably disappointed.
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