Chapter 154
I ignored Sarah.
I knew exactly what she was up to. She just wanted to show off in front of me, using this winner's attitude to emphasize once again that she was the woman George cared about, the one who needed to be protected.
And me? I was just someone insignificant, even someone who had to watch her moods and act accordingly.
But she was wrong.
What she was showing off was exactly what I cared least about, something I'd already seen through and was determined to break free from.
Before Sarah left, she deliberately said to George in that weak, clingy tone, "George, I might need you to take care of me tonight. I was really scared just now, my heart is still pounding. I'm afraid I'll have nightmares. As for Jack, I might not be able to look after him for now..."
Such a clumsy excuse, it was almost laughable. Even a three-year-old wouldn't believe it.
Someone who had just been calmly explaining things to the police suddenly claimed she was scared and afraid of nightmares.
Who would believe that?
But George did. Or rather, he was willing to believe it.
He looked down at Sarah and gave an almost imperceptible nod, making a brief sound of acknowledgment.
Then he turned to Jack, who was still pouting from being scolded earlier, and said flatly, "You're going back with Grace tonight."
After saying that, he didn't even glance at me, didn't ask if I was willing to take care of this trouble. He just naturally put his arm around Sarah's shoulder, led her away, and walked toward the luxury car parked by the roadside without looking back. They quickly disappeared into the twilight.
Just like that, he dumped Jack, this burden, on me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Some people who hadn't completely dispersed yet turned their eyes on me, with curiosity, scrutiny, and perhaps a hint of sympathy.
I stood there, watching the direction where the car had driven away. At first, I felt it was absurd. Then, a laugh mixed with anger and coldness welled up inside me.
George really did think highly of himself as always.
As if I were still that Grace from the Smith family days, who had to unconditionally obey all his orders and accept all his arrangements.
As if my wishes, my life, were completely worthless. As if with just one word from him, I should handle all his troubles for him, including the product of his and Sarah's love.
The archery instructor probably felt guilty, or maybe wanted to do George a favor. He came over with an apologetic smile, "Ms. Brown, I'm so sorry about today. It's all my fault. If I hadn't slipped and bumped into Ms. Wilson, that arrow wouldn't have nearly hurt you and your daughter. I'm really sorry."
I waved my hand, my tone flat, "It's fine, you don't need to blame yourself too much."
I paused, looking in the direction George had left, my voice soft but with a barely noticeable coldness, "Even without your accident, I probably couldn't have avoided getting hurt anyway."
The instructor froze, clearly not understanding the deeper meaning in my words.
But he quickly lowered his voice and said with emotion, "I never expected Mr. Smith to care so much about Mrs. Smith... Ms. Wilson. For her sake, he's willing to forgive even this kind of accident and not pursue it. They're really an enviable perfect couple..."
I didn't respond, too lazy to explain that the Mrs. Smith he mentioned had already been replaced, and even lazier to expose the fake mask of that "perfect couple" in his eyes.
I bent down and took Milly's hand, "Milly, let's go home."
Milly nodded obediently, her little hand gripping mine tightly.
We had just taken a few steps when footsteps sounded behind us, along with resentful muttering.
It was Jack.
He probably realized George really wasn't going to care about him, so he reluctantly followed behind us. His little face was full of unwillingness and complaints, mumbling something under his breath. That look was really annoying.
I frowned, but before I could say anything, Milly, who was walking beside me, suddenly stopped.
She let go of my hand, turned around, and positioned her small body between Jack and me. Looking up at Jack, she said, "You're so annoying. Can you please not follow us?"
Jack probably didn't expect the usually quiet and timid Milly to suddenly be so fierce. He froze for a moment, then became angry from embarrassment. Sticking out his neck, he shouted back, "You think I want to follow you? If your mom hadn't hurt my mom, my dad wouldn't have had to take care of my mom and leave me behind. It's all your fault! It's all because of you, you jinx, and your bad mother!"
His accusations were completely illogical, full of misplaced anger and malice.
Milly ignored his shouting. Instead, she turned around, gently tugged at my sleeve, looked up with clear eyes full of concern, and asked softly, "Mommy, were you hurt just now? When you were protecting me, you held me so tight. When we rolled on the ground, I heard you cry out in pain."
My heart felt like it was gently brushed by the softest feather, instantly warming up.
Sure enough, only your own daughter truly knows how to care for you.
The malice and speculation from those irrelevant people seemed so insignificant, even laughable, in the face of her purest love and concern.
I crouched down and touched her soft hair, saying with a smile, "Mommy's fine, sweetheart. I just scraped my elbow a little bit. It doesn't hurt. Thank you for caring about Mommy, Milly."
Jack, listening from the side, immediately snorted coldly, his tone full of disdain and doubt, "Liar! When my dad asked if you were hurt just now, you didn't say anything! Now you're saying you scraped your skin? You're just lying to kids! People who lie to kids will grow long noses!"
As if he'd found a new point of attack, he continued chattering, "Also! If you had agreed to compete with my mom, how could my mom have joked around with you? You were just afraid of losing to my mom, right? My mom is really good at archery!"
Looking at Jack's little face full of malice and obsession, the anger I'd felt earlier about George's absurd arrangement suddenly dissipated quite a bit, leaving only a deep exhaustion and indifference.
Yes, that flash of tension and concern in George's eyes just now might have been real.
But was that concern really for me?
When Sarah appeared and cried with her clumsy excuses, George immediately let go of me and shifted all his attention to Sarah.
What did that mean?
It meant that the person he truly cared about, truly worried about, had always been Sarah alone.
Him asking if I was hurt was like a police officer needing to confirm the condition of someone involved—it was procedure, responsibility, or rather, to make sure Sarah wouldn't get into bigger trouble because of this.
Not because he cared about me.
Seeing me remain silent while looking at Jack, Milly thought I'd been hurt by Jack's hurtful words. Her little face showed anxiety and heartache.
Then, something happened that neither Jack nor I expected.
Milly, who had been standing quietly beside me, suddenly stepped forward, reached out her little hands, and with all her small strength, pushed Jack hard.
Jack, who was in the middle of his tirade, was completely unprepared. Milly's push made him stumble backward and fall on his bottom.
He sat there stunned, eyes wide, looking at this sister who he'd always bullied in disbelief, as if seeing her for the first time.
I was also surprised. I quickly pulled Milly back and asked gently, "Milly, why did you suddenly push him?"