Chapter 129

Mason touched the makeup table with trembling fingers.

Zoe had taken the diary!

All of a sudden, a burning smell came from the balcony. Something was

burning there. He flinched as he realized something and dashed over

there.

At the next moment, he saw Zoe burning their wedding photo. Not even

the diary was able to escape the same fate. She just sat there and

watched quietly as if she was burning something summarily

unimportant.

“You're out of your mind!”

He didn't even think twice before he dashed in to save her diary. In fact,

he didn't even bother wearing anything to protect himself. He simply

tried to dig the diary out of the flames with his bare hands.

He didn’t even have time to think why he was doing this. It was nothing

but a diary, after all.

In the end, he managed to put out the fire, but there was only half of it

left.

Not giving a damn about his burnt hands, he flipped open the diary

hastily. It just so happened that he got the page that wrote,

“Mason will never love me!”

He was shaken! Looking up, he glared at her, “You actually burned your

diary. Are you just going to throw it all away after loving me for so

long?”

“I'm more than happy to!” She glared back at him. Both of them were

staring daggers at each other as if they had been enemies all along.

After a brief pause, she said with a resigned tone, “I don't want those

memories! I don't want anything to do with you anymore!”

He was wearing a thin shirt. A cold wind blew past him and showered

him with the raindrops. The raindrops felt as sharp as needles, piercing

his heart. The pain was unbearable.

Staring into Zoe's eyes, he saw that she had given up on everything.

That was the first time he had felt real panic in his entire life.

The rain continued to pour.

The servant cleaned up their bedroom. Zoe lay on the bed and slept

after she took a shower. Noon came and the servant served her lunch,

but she rejected her softly and said she didn't have an appetite.

Mason was smoking downstairs. There was a scorched wedding photo

and a half-burnt diary laid out before him.

Zoe wanted nothing to do with these!

He stared quietly at the two items through wisps of smoke. The truth

was, he was physically exhausted. It had been far too long since he

had a restful sleep because of Lilith’s condition. Given what just

happened, he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he wanted to.

He was thinking about Zoe.

Wasn't all of this well within his expectations? So, why would he feel

this shitty when she was upset with him?

He felt like he owed Lilith because he felt responsible for her. But what

about Zoe, then? He wanted to keep her as his wife and he lusted after

her body. There was also that thing about bragging about it to Cecil.

Aside from these reasons, was there something more about her?

He had been contemplating it for a long time, but he still didn't come up

with an answer.

The servant came downstairs, walked over to him, and spoke softly,

“Ms. Zoe said she didn't have an appetite! Please say something to her,

Mr. Mason.”

He asked her to put the lunch down and asked her in a husky voice,

“Was she really in pain last night?”

Her eyes turned red when she responded, “It was so painful that Ms.

Zoe almost passed out, but you weren't there with her!”

She was but a servant when all was said and done. So, she decided to

keep her mouth shut and left.

Taking her lunch with him, he went upstairs. He opened the bedroom

door and saw Zoe lying on the bed. It looked like she was napping, but

he knew that wasn't the case. She merely refused to talk to, or even

look at him.

Putting her lunch by the bed table, he sat by the bed and looked at her

wordlessly. Her face was buried in the pillow. A strand of her black hair

was strewn across the white pillow. He observed that her nose was

slightly red. She must've been crying again.

Speaking softly, he said, “Get up and have your lunch. How can you not

eat anything? Layla told me that you're...”

Zoe shifted. Keeping her face buried in the pillow, she spoke with a

hoarse voice, “Can we be more sensible, please? If you don’t love me

and only think of me as your plaything, then stop talking to me this

softly. You speak as though you truly cared and loved me.

“Want to know something, Mason? That tone of yours makes me feel

physically sick!”