I Refuse to Divorce!

Chapter 129



Mason touched the makeup table with trembling fingers.

Zoe had taken the diary!

All of a sudden, a burning smell came from the balcony. Something was burning there. He flinched as he realized something and dashed over there.

At the next moment, he saw Zoe burning their wedding photo. Not even the diary was able to escape the same fate. She just sat there and watched quietly as if she was burning something summarily unimportant.

“You're out of your mind!”

He didn't even think twice before he dashed in to save her diary. In fact, he didn't even bother wearing anything to protect himself. He simply tried to dig the diary out of the flames with his bare hands.

He didn’t even have time to think why he was doing this. It was nothing but a diary, after all.

In the end, he managed to put out the fire, but there was only half of it left.

Not giving a damn about his burnt hands, he flipped open the diary hastily. It just so happened that he got the page that wrote,

“Mason will never love me!”

He was shaken! Looking up, he glared at her, “You actually burned your diary. Are you just going to throw it all away after loving me for so long?”

“I'm more than happy to!” She glared back at him. Both of them were staring daggers at each other as if they had been enemies all along. After a brief pause, she said with a resigned tone, “I don't want those memories! I don't want anything to do with you anymore!”

He was wearing a thin shirt. A cold wind blew past him and showered him with the raindrops. The raindrops felt as sharp as needles, piercing his heart. The pain was unbearable.

Staring into Zoe's eyes, he saw that she had given up on everything. That was the first time he had felt real panic in his entire life.

The rain continued to pour.

The servant cleaned up their bedroom. Zoe lay on the bed and slept after she took a shower. Noon came and the servant served her lunch, but she rejected her softly and said she didn't have an appetite.

Mason was smoking downstairs. There was a scorched wedding photo and a half-burnt diary laid out before him.

Zoe wanted nothing to do with these!

He stared quietly at the two items through wisps of smoke. The truth was, he was physically exhausted. It had been far too long since he had a restful sleep because of Lilith’s condition. Given what just happened, he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he wanted to.

He was thinking about Zoe.

Wasn't all of this well within his expectations? So, why would he feel this shitty when she was upset with him?

He felt like he owed Lilith because he felt responsible for her. But what about Zoe, then? He wanted to keep her as his wife and he lusted after her body. There was also that thing about bragging about it to Cecil. Aside from these reasons, was there something more about her?

He had been contemplating it for a long time, but he still didn't come up with an answer.

The servant came downstairs, walked over to him, and spoke softly, “Ms. Zoe said she didn't have an appetite! Please say something to her, Mr. Mason.”

He asked her to put the lunch down and asked her in a husky voice, “Was she really in pain last night?”

Her eyes turned red when she responded, “It was so painful that Ms. Zoe almost passed out, but you weren't there with her!”

She was but a servant when all was said and done. So, she decided to keep her mouth shut and left.

Taking her lunch with him, he went upstairs. He opened the bedroom door and saw Zoe lying on the bed. It looked like she was napping, but he knew that wasn't the case. She merely refused to talk to, or even look at him.

Putting her lunch by the bed table, he sat by the bed and looked at her wordlessly. Her face was buried in the pillow. A strand of her black hair was strewn across the white pillow. He observed that her nose was slightly red. She must've been crying again.

Speaking softly, he said, “Get up and have your lunch. How can you not eat anything? Layla told me that you're...”

Zoe shifted. Keeping her face buried in the pillow, she spoke with a hoarse voice, “Can we be more sensible, please? If you don’t love me and only think of me as your plaything, then stop talking to me this softly. You speak as though you truly cared and loved me.

“Want to know something, Mason? That tone of yours makes me feel physically sick!”


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