Chapter 73: Venting
But he didn't ask. Because he knew Jennifer didn't love him, just as he didn't love her. Their relationship started as a transaction. Even though it was mixed with gratitude, passion, and tolerance, these things weren't love. When he treated her well, he expected something in return. People who've been hurt can no longer give love without expecting anything back. Jennifer was the same as him. Even though they were very compatible when they had sex in bed, they had never said they loved each other.
Francis fell silent, lost in thought. Jennifer actually let out a soft laugh and asked him, "What about you? Why are you suddenly asking me this question? Are you thinking of someone?" She wasn't stupid. After spending this time together, she'd discovered that Francis had someone special in his heart. That ringtone that made his face change instantly—she hadn't heard it again these past few days. Although she hadn't deliberately asked about it, people always gossiped around her. Supposedly, Francis had a girlfriend he'd grown up with, but they'd had some kind of falling out back then, and the woman had gone abroad.
"Jennifer, some questions shouldn't be asked." Francis's face looked terrible. He took a big gulp of wine, and the bitter alcohol made the corners of his eyes twitch.
Jennifer took a small sip of wine and looked out the window. "Francis, sometimes you're really an asshole. You can ask me questions and open up my wounds, but I can't even ask you one question. Do you think that's fair?" Her voice was light, as if she didn't care, but the slight tremor at the end of her sentence gave away her hurt.
Francis grabbed her chin and made her turn to face him, staring into her eyes. "It's not fair, but I like it that way."
He was so close, his hot breath hitting her face rapidly. Those deep blue pupils reflected her face, only her. Jennifer's eyelashes trembled as she closed her eyes and used her lips to block that hurtful mouth. When she didn't want to hear him talk, she would kiss him—Francis had taught her that. Both their mouths tasted of the same bitter wine, with the rich aroma of grapes. Francis's wine glass fell to the floor. He wrapped his arm around Jennifer's waist and passionately returned the bitter kiss. The remaining red wine in the glass spilled onto the carpet, staining it a pale red.
They were both familiar with each other's bodies, and with a bit of alcohol in them, the scent of desire quickly grew intense. Francis carried Jennifer into the bedroom, and they had intense sex on the bed, as if venting something. Francis did it silently, watching Jennifer show expressions of unbearable pleasure under his movements, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. Jennifer went along with her body's desires, moving with his rhythm, but was also angry that he was just using her as a substitute to vent, so she scratched and bit him to vent her anger.
After satisfying their desires, Francis helped Jennifer clean up. Then, without saying a word, they held each other and fell asleep.
Early the next morning, they were woken by the doorbell. Jennifer struggled to open her eyes and asked, "Who is it? Rainey?"
Francis was annoyed at being woken up. "It's not her. I told her to come at nine." It was only seven now. But the ringing wouldn't stop. He opened the door monitor and discovered it was actually Isabella standing at the door! What was she doing here? Francis had to throw on some clothes and get up. "You should change, too. My mom's here."
"What?" Jennifer was shocked awake. She was completely unprepared to meet Francis's mother—this was too sudden. But Francis had already dressed and was about to open the door. She couldn't make Isabella wait outside too long. She had to jump out of bed and rush into the bathroom.
As soon as Isabella entered, she started looking around Francis's place. She hadn't been here in a while, and it had changed a lot. There was a row of women's shoes in the shoe cabinet, and a pair of half-empty wine glasses on the table. Her eyes narrowed as she headed toward the bedroom. "You're already living with someone, why didn't you tell me?"
Francis blocked her. "Mom, we just got up. We haven't tidied up yet."
Isabella's gaze fell on his face. Francis still had nail marks on his chin from Jennifer's pinching, and there were quite a few bite marks and scratches on his exposed chest and neck. Her eyebrows shot up—these two young people had quite an intense night. "I'm your mother. What's in your room that I can't see? Did you bring a hooker home?"
Francis couldn't stop her. Isabella went into the bedroom, and the first thing she saw was the used condom in the trash can at the foot of the bed. She glared at Francis. "All you know is pleasure. Why don't you give me a grandchild!"
Francis felt a bit awkward. "Mom, what are you talking about?"
Isabella said, "What can't I say? Even if you don't get married, you still need to have a child. You have one and give it to me, I'll hire a nanny to take care of it, you won't have to worry about anything. All you do is sleep with women every day, and you don't even have children—what's the point?" Her words were blunt and successfully made Francis's face darken.
Jennifer was listening in the bathroom, her heart pounding. She had already changed and freshened up, but she was too embarrassed to open the door and go out. It wasn't until Isabella knocked on the door and said, "Miss, stop hiding and come out," that she slowly pulled open the door and shuffled out in small steps. As soon as she saw Isabella, her eyes widened in surprise, and the greeting she'd planned to say never left her mouth.
Isabella was also startled. Why did Francis's woman look so familiar? She tentatively asked, "Jennifer, is that you? You're my son's girlfriend?" She'd just seen her yesterday, but her impression of Jennifer was gentle and kind, completely inconsistent with the bold woman who could leave those marks on Francis.
Jennifer bit her lower lip and said with great embarrassment, "Isabella, it's me." She glanced at Francis, her eyes pleading for help.
Francis stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulders, asking somewhat curiously, "Have you two met?"
Isabella smiled, looking completely satisfied. "The woman I mentioned yesterday who helped me—that was her. I didn't expect you to be my son's girlfriend. We're family after all." She happily took Jennifer's hand and patted it, then glared at Francis. "You have such a good girlfriend. Why did you keep it from me? You made me think she was some woman with bad character."
Jennifer said somewhat awkwardly, "Isabella, you're too kind. This isn't really the place to talk. Why don't we go to the living room?"
"Yes, yes, yes." Isabella agreed readily. She pulled Francis to walk behind, saying in a low voice, "Francis, I like Jennifer. You need to treat her well, and it would be best if you let me hold a grandchild this year." Although she'd lowered her voice, Jennifer still heard it. She blushed and didn't dare turn around, quickening her pace to the living room to ask Isabella if she wanted juice.
Isabella drank her blueberry juice while looking at Jennifer and nodding with satisfaction. Jennifer didn't know why Francis wasn't explaining their relationship. She was too embarrassed to contradict Isabella, so she could only smile. When Isabella left, she told them to get along well and said Jennifer should come to her if Francis wronged her. Jennifer smiled and said, "Okay, thank you, Isabella." Although that day would never come, she was grateful for Isabella's kindness toward her.