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Chapter7
By the time the sun came up the next morning, William Ashford was still there.
Sophie and I stepped out of the bedroom to find him sitting on the couch, eyes bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept a minute all night.
The moment he saw me, his voice came out hoarse. “Eve…”
Before I could answer, a heavy pounding rattled the door.
Sophie hurried over to open it, and there stood William’s parents.
I didn’t need to guess who had called them
The moment they saw their son’s disheveled, scratched–up face, their expressions twisted with concern.
“Oh my poor boy, who did this
to you?”
Margaret Ashford, his mother, was the queen of passive–aggressive jabs.
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She shot me a sharp glare as she spoke.
“I did,” I said flatly.
Her tone sharpened. “Couldn’t you have just talked things out? We didn’t raise our son for you to treat him like this.”
M
“Oh, really? Then maybe you should first figure out whether it’s me who hurt William, or William who hurt me.”
“Your precious son cheated on me with my wedding photographer while we were planning the ceremony. He put a crown of thorns on my head and you expect me to swallow it?”
Margaret’s eyes flickered, guilt flashing before she looked away. So, Tom
she kept her chin high.
“Evelyn, you’re young. Men and women, things happen. What man doesn’t stray a little? As long as he comes home to you in the end, that’s what matters.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Ashford,” I said coldly. “I’m not built to live with that kind of humiliation.”
Her brows arched. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re calling off the wedding?”
I nodded. “Yes. I am.”
She exploded.
“You think marriage is some child’s game? We’ve booked the banquet hall, the invitations are ready to go out, how do you expect us to save face now?”
She snatched a cup off the coffee table and smashed it to the floor.
Before I could respond, Sophie stepped in.
She grabbed the vase from the table and hurled it so it shattered at Margaret’s feet.
“What? You think you’re the only one who can break things? This is my house. Don’t you dare cops and have the whole lot of you hauled in.”
William’s expression darkened.
He looked like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.
After a tense standoff, he tugged at his parents‘ sleeves.
“Just go. Let me talk to Evelyn alone.”
Margaret’s voice rose again.
act wild here. Keep it up and I’ll call the
Cracker
