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Abigail knew she had to tackle this issue on her own.
Felix didn’t say much as he got into the car and drove off, leaving Amy and Justin to walk out one after the other.
When Abigail returned to the hospital room, she found Charles resting peacefully.
A short while later, two caregivers arrived, and Abigail recognized immediately that this had to be Felix’s doing.
However, she was uneasy; right now, neither the Taylors nor she had much to spare, especially with the steep costs of caregiving.
After some hesitation, she decided to take the two caregivers outside for a conversation.
“I’m sorry, ladies, but our family is currently facing some financial difficulties, and we might have to reconsider how many caregivers we can afford.”
Before she could finish, one of the caregivers interjected, “Ms. Taylor, Mr. Rowe already arranged and paid for our services. You can relax; with both of us here, your family will have an easier time.”
“What? He already paid?” Abigail felt a rush of anxiety.
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The costs of two caregivers were far from small, and if Felix had already covered it, letting one of them go would complicate things financially.
After sending the caregivers back to their tasks, Abigail lingered in the corridor, conflicted.
Ultimately, she decided to send Felix a message: [Take the caregivers‘ fees from my paycheck. Please don’t push this off; I wouldn’t feel right about it.]
She waited, but after a long stretch of silence, Felix didn’t respond.
It was getting late; by 8 PM, Abigail’s irritation peaked, and she reluctantly dialed Anthony’s number.
At that moment, Anthony had just returned to his office after a meeting, rubbing his temples in exhaustion.
A smirk of satisfaction crept onto his face as he answered, “What’s up?”
Abigail recognized his tone; he was feigning ignorance, fully aware of the situation’s gravity.
He relished in her frustration, savoring the sense of control he held.
Abigail didn’t have the patience to play along anymore.
She said, “I’m at Center Hospital. Come pick me up.”
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Anthony’s laughter was cold. “What for? Aren’t you the one who wanted a divorce and moved out?”
Clenching her fists, Abigail kept her voice steady. “We need to talk. Let’s talk when we meet.”
She hung up before he could respond, sure that he would show up within the half–hour.
He thrived on maintaining his sense of superiority and control.
As predicted, in twenty minutes, Anthony’s car pulled up outside the hospital, and he called to let her know he was waiting.
Abigail answered, mindful of Laura’s worry, and quickly made up an excuse to slip away.
With two caregivers by Charles‘ side, she felt more at ease.
As she stepped outside, Anthony’s car was parked conspicuously, and she could see him leaning out the window, cigarette in hand, exhaling smoke while wearing a smug expression.
Abigail approached and slid into the passenger seat.
Anthony had no intention of driving off right away.
Instead, he chuckled, “What happened? Injured on the job?”
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For the first time, Abigail felt a wave of anger at his condescending attitude. “Drive.”
Her cold tone only fueled Anthony’s delight.
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He relished this side of her–the contradiction of her reluctance and stubbornness.
With a swift press on the gas, Anthony sped off, the car racing forward.
In the past, Abigail had always hated when he drove fast, feeling her heart pound with every turn.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Abigail felt surprisingly indifferent as they drove.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the doorstep of what used to be her home. She stepped out of the car, unable to shake off the numbness as she walked into the villa.
It was hard to believe she was back in this place that had tormented her for so long.
Lucy had just finished dinner when she spotted Abigail entering.
Her face lit up,
joy. “Mrs. Robinson! You’re finally back! Mr. Robinson called earlier and asked me to prepare extra food, and when I saw it was all your favorites, I figured you might return. I can’t believe you really did!”
Abigail smiled at Lucy, her heart warming at the sight of Lucy.
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Honestly, she had a deep fondness for Lucy. Not only was Lucy diligent in her work, but over the years, Abigail had spent more time with Lucy than with Anthony.
Lucy’s eyes glistened with happiness. “Mrs. Robinson, how have you been? You look thinner!”
Abigail had been doing well, but the weight loss was due to her morning and evening runs with Felix.
She felt healthier and, for the most part, lighter in spirit.
But after everything that had happened, her face had lost its glow again.
All of this was thanks to Anthony, and she couldn’t forget it.
After a while, Anthony finally walked in, bringing Marcus along.
The moment Marcus caught sight of Abigail, his face paled with anger. “What’s she doing here? I don’t want to eat with her!”
Marcus turned to leave. “I’m going to call Grandma to pick me up.”
As he turned to storm off, Anthony grabbed his backpack and yanked him back. “Behave.”
Marcus still had a bit of fear towards Anthony.
Knowing his father wouldn’t let him leave, he pouted and
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reluctantly joined them at the dining table.
Abigail recognized Anthony’s tactics all too well.
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Whenever they had a fight, he would pull this stunt, forcing her to come back and sit down for dinner with Marcus.
It worked like a charm; she always felt a mix of resentment and. frustration, but seeing their child would eventually make her relent.
Now, Abigail was using the same old tricks, but she was done making concessions.
Once dinner was served, the three of them began to eat.
Marcus stubbornly pushed his vegetables aside, protesting silently.
In the past, Abigail would have insisted he eat his greens, but tonight, she let it slide.
Anthony served Marcus some food, then offered Abigail a piece of pork rib.
He said, “It’s been a while since you’ve had Lucy’s cooking. Dig in.”
Abigail remained silent, focusing on her plate.
After a while, Anthony broke the silence. “I know you were just trying to get back at me before, but now that you’re back, let’s
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not make a scene. I’ll have someone help you move your things back in a few days.”
Abigail didn’t respond, thinking he was dreaming if he thought she’d move back in.
Noticing her silence, Anthony continued, “Abigail, I don’t understand why you’re making such a fuss.
“We’ve been living like this for years. Marriage isn’t a game; you can’t just act out like this.”
His words sounded ridiculous to her.
“Isn’t it enough to just settle down and be a full–time lady of leisure? You could have coffee while chatting with the others. Do you have any idea how many people dream of that kind of life?”
She had heard these brainwashing lines countless times over the years, and they had long since lost their power over her.
