Chapter 4
A startled buzz swept through the audience as Shirley’s knuckles whitened around her glass.
Timothy then approached the stage, producing a velvet box from his pocket. Inside lay an antique jadeite ring.
“Isn’t that the Mitchell heirloom?” someone gasped.
“I heard Laura Mitchell reserved that ring for her eldest grandson’s bride.”
“Heavens! Gifting an heirloom to his sister–in–law–Timothy’s publicly humiliating Shirley…”
The ring slid onto Patricia’s ring finger–a perfect fit.
“Dad, Mom, Timothy, isn’t this inappropriate?”
Patricia suddenly glanced toward the corner, her voice deliberately hesitant.
“After all, Shirley is the Campbells‘ biological daughter and Mrs. Mitchell. Shouldn’t these belong to her?”
Hearing this, Mom and Dad immediately grasped her hands.
“Nonsense! Shirley married well with the Mitchell Family backing her. Naturally, we must plan more for you. Leav- ing our assets to you is only right.”
Timothy stated flatly, “If not for that accident, this ring would’ve been yours all along.”
Shirley stood at the crowd’s center like she’d been stripped naked in public.
Her parents‘ words struck like slaps. Timothy’s words cut like knives, lashing across her face.
The guests‘ stares were like searchlights, leaving her nowhere to hide–pitying, mocking, gloating, each gaze spelling out “pathetic loser.”
She could even feel Patricia’s smug look, like a victor flaunting her trophy.
In the past, this would’ve crushed her.
But now, she only felt calm.
Shirley gently set down her wine glass. As she turned, whispers reached her ears:
“Look, her eyes are red…”
“Probably hiding in the restroom to cry…”
“How pitiful–her own parents and husband prefer the adopted daughter…”
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Chapter 4
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Without breaking stride, she walked straight to the restroom. Her reflection showed flawless makeup–not a single tear had fallen.
She had long forgotten everything.
She forgot how she had once begged her parents for affection, Timothy’s love; no longer remembered how she had re- peatedly set aside her dignity just to earn a single glance from them.
Those she had once looked up to with such humility now meant nothing to her–strangers all.
Now, she only needed to quietly wait for her immigration paperwork to finalize, then learn to truly love herself.
Shirley touched up her lipstick and was about to leave the restroom when she abruptly halted at the corridor’s corner.
Not far away, Timothy had Patricia pinned against the wall, kissing her deeply.
His slender fingers tangled in her hair while his other hand gripped her waist tightly, as if trying to meld her into his very being.
Patricia tilted her head back, her fair neck forming a graceful curve.
After what felt like an eternity, Timothy finally released her. His thumb brushed her slightly swollen lips as his deep voice rumbled.
“Satisfied now?”
Clinging to his chest, Patricia’s voice came out soft and sweet.
“Timothy… do you think I’m being too much? I’ve already accepted your heirloom, yet I still demanded a kiss… If Shirley sees this, she’ll probably be heartbroken again.”
“I’m just in so much pain. Had that accident never happened, we would have been together…”
Timothy’s eyes remained calm while pulling her closer.
“Her sadness means nothing to me.”
“I never liked her. Never will.”
“The one I’ve always loved is you, Patricia.”
His lips captured hers once more.
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