Chapter 261 He No Longer Has Any Chance

Chapter 261 He No Longer Has Any Chance

Sophia asked very directly.

Abigail leaned against the kitchen doorframe and thought for a moment.

"Everyone will find out eventually."

Sophia crossed her arms, her expression complicated. "Are you scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"Scared that once people know you're the Hubbard family's daughter, their attitude will suddenly change. People who hurt you or looked down on you before will come trying to please you. People who were good to you before might suddenly become cautious around you."

Abigail looked down at the cup in her hands. The water surface reflected the ceiling light.

"I'm not scared," she said. "Relationships that were meant to go bad have already gone bad. Relationships that shouldn't be affected won't change just because of an extra identity."

Sophia looked at her and suddenly smiled.

"Alright, I'm leaving now. I'll come back tomorrow to help you organize the closet. All those clothes your brother bought are piled together, and it's stressing me out just looking at them."

Abigail walked her to the door.

Before getting in her car, Sophia looked back at the second-floor window. The light was on, curtains not drawn.

She took a deep breath and pulled open the car door to get in.

Since she had left, she wouldn't look back.

The next morning.

Nova arrived at the villa an hour early with two assistants.

When Abigail came downstairs, the living room had already been rearranged. Fresh flowers replaced the old ones on the coffee table, a linen tablecloth covered the dining table, and the smell of toasted bread came from the kitchen.

"Abigail, come up and look." Nova stood at the second-floor landing, waving at her.

Abigail followed her up.

The walk-in closet next to the master bedroom had been completely organized. The clothes that were previously piled together were now all hung by color and style. The shoe cabinet held over a dozen pairs of new shoes. The middle drawer was pulled open, filled with jewelry.

Abigail walked over for a look.

Necklaces, earrings, bracelets—all simple designs, no flashy designer logos.

"These were picked by Sophia for you," Nova said with a smile. "She said you don't like things too complicated, so I put her in charge. Chris helped too. The watches and several scarves were his choices—he said you could use them for work."

Abigail reached out to touch a beige trench coat hanging at the front. The fabric was soft.

The tag was still on.

She turned it over to check the price, and her fingers froze.

"Mom, these are too expensive."

"Not expensive." Nova's tone was completely natural. "During those three years you were married into the Gonzalez family, everything you wore and used, you paid for yourself. You wouldn't even buy yourself a decent coat. I'm your mother, and it breaks my heart. Now I want to make up for all of that. Can't I?"

Abigail felt her throat tighten.

She didn't say no again, just tore off the tag from the trench coat.

Three o'clock in the afternoon.

The doorbell rang.

Craig went to answer it.

Three people stood outside.

Chris, Martin, Mira.

Martin wore a dark gray casual suit, his hair neatly combed, smiling as he carried in a case of red wine. Mira followed behind, holding an insulated container with steam escaping from the gaps in the lid.

"Abigail!" Mira called her name as soon as she entered, her tone warm. "I made oxtail soup. You just got out of the hospital—you need to eat something nutritious."

Abigail came out of the kitchen and quickly took the container.

"Mrs. Brown, thank you."

Mira grabbed her hand and looked her up and down several times.

"You've lost so much weight. Your face is a whole size smaller. Now that you're out of the hospital, eat well and take care of yourself."

Nova came down from upstairs. When she saw Mira, the two women smiled and greeted each other.

Mira pulled Nova to chat for a bit. The two sat on the sofa, their voices getting lower and lower, talking about who knows what.

Chris set the wine on the dining table and walked over to Abigail's side.

"My mom really did come to see you this time," he lowered his voice, "but she probably has other motives too."

Abigail looked up at him.

Chris shrugged. "Just wait and see."

Sure enough.

Ten minutes later, Mira walked over with her tea and sat down next to Abigail, smiling especially warmly.

"Abigail, living alone in such a big house, don't you find it too quiet?"

Abigail paused. "It's okay. Craig and the others live on the first floor, so I'm not really alone."

Mira nodded and asked again, "What are your plans for the future? Have you decided about work?"

"Still thinking about it. My brother wants me to learn from him for three months first."

"That's good." Mira patted her hand, her tone casual. "Chris has been busy too, working overtime every day. He doesn't even have anyone to talk to at home. You young people should get together more when you have time—don't just stay home alone."

Abigail finally caught on.

She glanced over at Chris.

Chris was leaning by the window drinking water, his face clearly saying, "I didn't hear anything."

Nova smiled nearby without interrupting, but her eyes clearly showed some assessment.

Just then, the doorbell rang again.

Craig opened the door.

The person standing outside was someone no one expected.

Sawyer.

He wore a dark formal coat, with Ryder behind him. He hadn't given advance notice or arranged for anyone to receive him.

Ethan came out of the study. When he saw Sawyer, his expression changed slightly.

"Mr. Gonzalez."

Sawyer stood at the door, not entering right away.

He looked at the yard, then at the porch, and finally at Abigail walking out of the living room.

His gaze stayed on her face for several seconds.

Abigail stood there without avoiding his look.

She didn't hate Sawyer.

Victoria had been kind to her when she was alive. Sawyer had never actively made things difficult for her either. It was just that during those three years of marriage, he chose to stand by and watch—he didn't intervene, didn't interfere. He let her bear all the silence, distance, and grievances alone.

"Come in and sit." Ethan stepped aside.

Sawyer entered the living room and sat on the sofa.

Ryder placed the gifts they brought on the coffee table. It was a box of tea and a framed painting—polite but not overly formal.

Martin knew Sawyer. The two men nodded at each other in greeting.

The atmosphere went quiet for a moment.

Nova handed over a cup of tea. Sawyer took it and drank a sip.

Then he spoke.

"Abigail, are you feeling better?"

Abigail stood nearby without sitting down.

"Much better, thank you for asking."

Sawyer nodded and was silent for a few seconds.

He set down the teacup.

"I came today not representing the Gonzalez family. I'm just here in my own capacity to see how you are."

Abigail stood there and listened quietly.

She didn't cry, nor did she say she forgave or didn't forgive.

"It's good that you came." That was all she said.

Sawyer looked into her eyes and suddenly felt that Abigail was different from three years ago.

Three years ago at the Gonzalez mansion, she always kept her head down, spoke softly, like a rabbit ready to run away at any moment.

Now she stood here with her back straight, her eyes calm. She didn't shrink back, nor did she try to please anyone.

Sawyer couldn't help thinking that Matthew had long since run out of chances to win Abigail's heart back.