Chapter 470
Bride Behind The Mask
Yuna eventually didnât leave the Winston Mansion.
Marguerite had long suspected that one major reason she couldnât hold a candle to Yuna in Frederickâs eyes was Yunaâs knack for using the children to keep him tethered.
No matter how little Frederick loved her, he was undeniably the father of Hayes and Manley, But she, Marguerite, seemed to have left him nothing to remember her by.
Marguerite brooded over this, Frederickâs words echoing in her mind, âI certainly donât love her, but just as much, I could never love you,â haunting her and refusing to fade.
The first morning after the drama, Marguerite noticed a significantly reduced number for breakfast.
Only Jocelyn was bustling about with the servants, while Teresa and Hayes sat on stools, their fingers feverishly dancing over their phones as they played a shooting game.
âYouâre up? Come have breakfast,â Jocelyn called out when she saw Marguerite.
Sitting down, Marguerite couldnât help but ask, Jocelyn, whyâs it just us? Whereâs everyone else?â
Jocelyn, sitting beside Marguerite, instructed a servant to ladle her a bowl of warming soup.
âFrederick and Yuna took Manley to the hospital, and as for Maurice, if you donât know where heâs off to, Iâm certainly in the dark.â
Marguerite wasnât concerned about Mauriceâs whereabouts in the slightest.
Perhaps the previous nightâs uproar had taken its toll, for Marguerite felt exhausted despite a nightâs sleep. She sipped her soup in silence, not uttering a word.
Jocelyn patted the table gently, her voice as tender as always, âKiddos, phones down. If you donât start eating properly, grandmaâs going to confiscate them!â
Both children chimed in unison, âGot it!â
Jocelyn smiled, tying bibs around Hayes and Teresa before turning to Marguerite with a probing look, âWere you with Frederick before coming home last night?â
Margueriteâs spirits were low, but she nodded without denying it, âYeah, we were at a diner.â
Jocelyn seemed to look right through her, sipping her soy milk thoughtfully before asking, âDid you enjoy it?â
Marguerite replied with a hint of defiance, âNot really.â
âWhy not?â
Marguerite met Jocelynâs gaze, filled with dejection, âBecause he told me last night that he just doesnât love me.â
Jocelyn was taken aback, âYou asked him?â
Marguerite nodded, and then a soft sigh reached her ears.
Jocelyn gently tapped Margueriteâs forehead, her tone somewhat exasperated, âWhen did you become so impatient? Put yourself in his shoes. If someone who once betrayed you suddenly declares their love, could you just let bygones be bygones and respond warmly?â
Though Jocelyn spoke thus, Margueriteâs heart still brimmed with resentment.
She was stiflingly uncomfortable!
Ever since she learned that Frederick had once intended to confess his feelings for her, her heart had never been at peace. She was desperate for an answer.
But hearing Jocelynâs words, Marguerite suddenly harbored a sliver of hope, âJocelyn, are you saying I still have a chance?â
Jocelyn smiled, âI didnât say anything. Who knows what Frederick really feels? But opportunities are made, not given. Why not give it another shot?â
Give it another shot?
Frederick had been so harsh with his words, Marguerite felt as though he had blocked every path forward and back.
How could she try? It seemed no matter what she did, the outcome wouldnât be particularly goodâ¦