Chapter 7
Benson instinctively wanted to salvage the situation, but the words caught in his throat, and he laughed
instead.
“Olivia, what new trick is this?”
“You think I won’t break up with you, is that it?”
“Let me tell you, playing hard to get won’t work on me!”
My gaze grew colder.
Benson was very confident.
Indeed, my past behavior had given him that confidence.
During previous arguments about Celine, I always eventually compromised rather than break up.
But he forgot that I compromised because I loved him and loved our baby.
I compromised because I wanted a happy family.
But now, the baby was gone, a happy family was impossible, and I no longer loved him.
Why should I continue to endure this?
“Think whatever you want. We’re not married yet anyway.”
“The apartment we bought together and split the renovation costs–just give me my half in cash.”
“For the wedding arrangements, figure out how to cancel them yourself. I’ll send you the wed “ng planner’s contact information.”
As I spoke, I noticed Celine’s expression behind Benson shift to one of subtle delight.
But Benson, with his back to her, remained oblivious, still arguing stubbornly: “What do you mean? You’re really breaking up with me over this?”
“You know what I do for a living. I was just trying to prevent a life from being lost, helped Celine a bit more. Why are you being so unreasonable?”
After another round of accusations, Benson took a deep breath: “Fine. You lost our baby, which can count as atonement for what you did to Celine. I promise to keep my distance from her from now on. Does that
5.9%
Chapter 7
work?”
This was actually a concession from Benson.
In all our fights about Celine, this was the first time he’d ever offered to distance himself from her.
The previously delighted Celine now looked uncomfortable.
She furrowed her brow, ready to put on another performance, but froze when she met my knowing, slightly mocking gaze.
I spoke slowly: “Benson, you seem to have misunderstood something. I don’t make a habit of recycling garbage.”
“Besides, you’ve mentioned I owe Celine so many times. I’d like to ask–exactly what did I do?”
Benson was caught off guard by my question but quickly recovered with a flash of coldness in his eyes.
“After we got together, didn’t you investigate Celine?”
“You sent emails to her classmates abroad, encouraging them to bully her, didn’t you? If not for you, how would she have developed depression from being bullied?”
“I think you should apologize to Celine!”
Benson’s voice grew louder as he spoke, believing himself to be on the side of justice.
But Celine stood awkwardly behind him, clearly uncomfortable and guilty.
Seeing her obvious discomfort, I laughed out loud.
“So that’s what someone told you? That I sent emails abroad? What could I possibly send that would make her classmates bully her?”
“Benson, I don’t know whether to say you think too highly of me or too little of me!”
Benson was taken aback but quickly remembered something: “I saw your outgoing mail record. There was definitely an email sent abroad.”
Mrs. Blake, who had been silent until now, spoke up.
