“What’s wrong? You don’t have an appetite?“.
After Lorena saw her back, Rosella kept feeling uneasy, and she didn’t touch the food on her plate. Luigi’s voice snapped her back to reality, and she randomly stuffed something into her mouth.
Luigi curled up his lips, feeling sorry for her while blaming himself deep down.
He had sent someone to stay by the pool just to steal a glance at Rosella’s body when she was changing. Though the whole place was shrouded in steam, one could still make out the scars all over her body.
It was proof of her years of suffering, which was even more serious than they had expected.
“Rosella, it’s all in the past now,” Luigi said earnestly, wanting to help Rosella feel better. “Mollie dotes on you, and you’ll still be the Rowe family’s daughter. Mr. Rowe said so himself.”
Holding a fork and a knife, Rosella shook her head. “I know Mollie dotes on me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not her daughter.”
After spending days with her, Luigi could tell how sad and troubled she was, and he was ready to cheer her up in the days to come.
Their conversation was overheard by Millard, who was walking
toward them.
Standing next to him was Lorena, who linked arms with him and greeted Rosella. Raising her other arm, she said loudly, “Hey, Rosella!”
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Luigi turned around, only to meet Millard’s obscure eyes filled with complex emotions. In the next second, Lorena pulled Millard away forcibly. “So, you came here with Luigi? No wonder they say you and him are…
“Enough,” Millard cut her off impatiently. “You said you were hungry, right?”
“Why don’t we join Rosella’s table?”
Lorena asked, her gaze sweeping over between Luigi and Rosella suggestively, “We’re not intruding, are we?”
Though she said so, she had already sat down beside Rosella.
She glanced at Rosella’s plate and then said, “Is that your dinner? Gee, Rosella. You never used to diet.”
“And she’s not on a diet now.” Luigi knew Rosella had changed and didn’t want to have anything to do with people like Lorena anymore, so he offered on Rosella’s behalf, “She can’t eat much. Ms. Esparza, you may order another serving if you want.”
“Millard, what would you like to eat?” Lorena grabbed a menu. It seemed she was ordering, but every word she said was like a sharp knife, stabbing Rosella’s heart. “I remember.., you love sea bass, right? But I’m sure Rosella knows you better.”
Closing the menu, Lorena rested her chin on her hands.
Then she asked either intentionally or unintentionally, “Right, Rosella?”
Millard remained silent, not planning on intervening. Rosella lowered her head and crooked her fingers nervously, the faint scent of her perfume filling the air. The three’s gazes were fixed on her, and Millard’s was exceptionally eager. It seemed he was very much looking
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forward to her answer.
After a few seconds of silence, as Luigi wanted to step up to answer for her, she looked up. Since she was about to get married to Luigi, she shouldn’t hesitate when answering questions like this. “I don’t
remember,” she said.
“You don’t remember? How so?” Lorena pressed on, and Rosella felt the air become thinner. “You remember every little thing about Millard more clearly than tracking your period, right?”
With that, Lorena chuckled.
Luigi frowned. “Ms. Esparza, if you’re not here to eat, please stop disturbing us.”
“Come on. It’s just a joke.” Lorena curled her lip. Then she teased, “Rosella, your fiancé is kind of touchy, isn’t he?”
Rosella didn’t care what Lorena said about her, but she wouldn’t tolerate Lorena taunting Luigi.
“He’s not touchy at all,” Rosela said firmly and seriously. “He’s a very decent man.”
In the next second, Millard, who had been silent this whole time,
sneered.
He stood up, kicked the chair, and said sarcastically before leaving, “Ms. Krueger, you’re so forgetful.”
She was forgetful and fickle in love.
He remembered that she had never said this about him when she had been pursuing him. Did it mean he wasn’t even as good as Luigi?
Rosella drank a glass of peach juice handed by Lorena at the dining
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table. After she went back to her room, red rashes had broken out across her arms and neck. She wasn’t allergic to peaches, but the itching wouldn’t stop no matter what.
She couldn’t stop scratching, leaving red marks on her skin.
Instead of asking Luigi for help, she went downstairs to get some anti- itch cream from the staff, who looked a bit hesitant and said, “Could you wait here for a second while I go check? I’m afraid we don’t have that here.”
She nodded and sat aside, while the scratches on her neck had become bruises. After she waited for more than ten minutes, the staff still was nowhere to be seen. Feeling irritated, she scratched her skin even harder, and the blood even seeped through her clothes faintly.
When Millard went downstairs, even her chin was covered in red rashes. Passers–by looked at her strangely, but she didn’t notice.
Sensing someone approaching, she looked up with a smile. “Thank…”
It wasn’t the staff, it was Millard.
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