Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young) -
Chapter 88
Chapter 88 Do you love me?
I was momentarily stunned, but quickly caught on. Madam Young's birthday celebration was near, and the uncles and other younger members of the Youngs had all returned.
Madam Young had three sons besides Idris's father, so he had two uncles. The Youngs had grown their business over the years and had also amassed quite a few assets abroad, so Idris's two uncles and their children had all been traveling in various countries overseas.
Madam Young's birthday celebration was upon us, and relatives from overseas were flocking back to honor their aging mother. It made sense, then, why Madam Young was so insistent on evicting Moore from the old mansion.
Despite its size, the mansion was, after all, the Youngs' property. Moore, a man of dubious background, living in Idris's courtyard, was bound to attract attention. Where there was attention, there would be speculation, discussion, and inevitably, gossip.
Idris, being the eldest son of the Youngs, was a figurehead for the Young Corporation. The fact that he was harboring his wife's pregnant sister in his courtyard, with the paternity of the child in question, could seriously tarnish his reputation if word got out.
I took Madam Young's words to heart and left the courtyard. Amid the autumn hues of the courtyard, the chrysanthemums were enchanting. Idris, standing tall and straight in his black. attire, hands in pockets, was a stark contrast amidst the vibrant chrysanthemums.
Hearing movement, he turned and saw me. He approached, towering over me with his six-foot-tall frame. I disliked craning my neck to look up at him, even less so when conversing, so I moved to sit on a bench in the courtyard, plucked a chrysanthemum, and began toying with it. "I wasn't aware of today's events beforehand," I said. "If you're upset and looking to vent, I'm sorry, but I won't be your punching bag." He glanced at the vacant bench beside me, his handsome brows furrowing slightly at the sight of a few fallen autumn leaves. He chose to stand at a distance instead, asking, "I understand. What did grandmother ask you to tell me?"
Understand?
I quirked an eyebrow. Had he pieced it all together so quickly? Well, it made sense. If I had the power to sway Madam Young's thoughts, Moore would never have set foot in the old mansion. I had to give it to him; he was not entirely without brains.
As I toyed with the petals, I looked up at him. "We need to talk about our divorce," I said.
His brow furrowed, his face taking on a serious tone. "Yvette, let's have a proper conversation," he replied.
I nodded, my voice steady. "I am having a proper conversation. I initially wanted to divorce you because Moore was pregnant, but it's not entirely because of her."
His dark eyes narrowed slightly. "Yvette, have I spoiled you too much?" I pressed my l*ps. together, knowing that if we kept this up, an argument was inevitable.
I tore up the flowers in my hand and tossed them into the flower bed. "You're the one who asked," I said, looking at him. "But when I answer, you don't listen. Idris, don't you see how ridiculous you're being?" He asked the questions, but he did not want to hear the answers. What a frustrating habit
SELVA Leg the posite paw, likely coming to call us for dinne started walking towards Charles, not wanting to exchange another word with Idris.
I had barely taken a few steps when Idris grabbed my wrist.
His grip tightened, his eyebrows knitting together. "If it's not because of Moore, then why Why indeed? Was it because of the pressure from Madam Young? Or the phantom child in n belly? None of these seemed to be the main reason, but they were influencing my thought causing me to hesitate and to be reluctant to make a decision. Yes, I was still unsure about divorcing Idris. Ever since he confessed about Moore's pregnancy, I had been wavering. To leave or not to leave? What was causing my indecision? I felt like I had lost the answer.
I turned to gaze at him, and for some reason, I found myself asking a question that came ou of nowhere. "Idris," I said, looking into his eyes, "do you love me?"
His grip on my hand tightened suddenly, squeezing so hard that my wrist started to ache. I di not move, just kept my eyes locked on his, waiting for his answer.
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