Chapter 117 Seems to Have Fallen for Alex
Arabella stopped in her tracks.
She turned back to look. Anthony's tall figure stood under the streetlight, the warm yellow glow casting shadows across his facial features as he gazed at her with focus and persistence. This was the man she'd once been most infatuated with, most deeply in love with.
However, things had changed. Her love had already worn away during their divorce proceedings. Free from the rose-colored glasses she'd once worn for him, he was just another cheating scumbag who got tired of what he had.
So when Arabella heard him say such things now, she only found it ridiculous.
She looked at him sideways and asked, "Did you and Cassidy have a fight? She can't meet your mother's standards for the Watson family's young mistress, can she?"
Honestly, she'd long anticipated that Anthony and Cassidy's relationship would develop cracks. She knew Jennifer's temperament all too well. During her two years with the Watson family, enduring humiliation and bearing heavy burdens—aside from a fool like herself, how many girls could accept that kind of life?
Let alone someone like Cassidy, the little princess Anthony held in the palm of his hand. When she'd stepped aside back then, she'd already guessed that one day, Cassidy wouldn't be able to survive in the Watson family.
At the time, she'd thought that when that day really came, she'd definitely enjoy the show. She'd wanted to see how the Watson family, who'd schemed to kick her out, would rationalize everything perfectly, and just how pathetic Cassidy, who'd acted so arrogant in front of her, would become.
But now that this day had actually arrived, Arabella only felt that none of it mattered anymore. She was no longer the same Arabella from before. How the Watson family was doing, how Cassidy was doing—none of it had anything to do with her. She'd once hated them, anticipated their regret and misery. But now, she didn't even have hatred left. Anthony was just a stranger to her.
These past few months, with Alex's help, she'd long since let go of her past resentment and completely moved on.
The only thing she hadn't expected was for this day to come so quickly, and she hadn't expected Anthony—that devoted man who'd treasured Cassidy—to show up at his abandoned ex-wife's door begging for reconciliation after just a few months.
So his love for Cassidy was just that shallow after all.
She looked at Anthony's expression with calm politeness. "Anthony, when we divorced, you said the decision you regretted most in this lifetime was marrying me two years ago. You said Cassidy was your true love, that your heart only had room for her alone. Now it's only been six months, and you come to me saying these things. Does she know?"
Anthony pressed his thin lips tightly together, his gaze deeply pained, with agonizing struggle in the depths of his eyes—but Arabella couldn't understand it.
After a long moment, he finally spoke, trying to explain. "She and I... back then she dumped me and went abroad. We had a great relationship at the time. Later I met you, and when I married you, I never thought she'd come back. Then when she returned and found me, I felt bitter about being abandoned before, so I... I thought that was love, but it wasn't. Arabella, I don't know if you can understand what I mean. I just hope you can give me another chance. We were so good together back then, weren't we?"
He was the heir to Watson Group. Since graduating college, his father had stepped back from work due to illness and gone abroad to recuperate—it had been ten years now. He'd been the one in charge of Watson Group for ten years, and to a certain extent, he could make things happen with a snap of his fingers in all of Majestic City.
He was proud, even arrogant. Arabella had never seen him like this—so... pleading and humble.
She found it interesting how people and situations in this world worked. When she'd loved him deeply, he'd been dismissive. Now that she'd let go, he suddenly regretted it.
But she now clearly recognized that Anthony had never truly loved her back then, and certainly couldn't now either. Probably Cassidy couldn't meet his requirements for a virtuous wife and good mother, so he'd turned to her instead.
After all, his mother was both spoiled and harsh, and Anthony was most devoted to his mom.
Arabella looked at Anthony, her voice gentle. "Anthony, you've always prided yourself on being a real man, but you're truly terrible at handling family and relationships. I gave up everything for you back then, but you stabbed me in the heart. Now Cassidy is your wife—no matter what she's like, she's the person you chose. When relationships have problems, you should work to fix them, not just throw them away. She's a person, not a dirty rag. You've already wronged one person—don't wrong a second."
After speaking, she nodded slightly at him and walked straight into the complex.
Anthony watched her retreating figure and staggered back a few steps. Being able to come here tonight and say those words was already his limit—his pride wouldn't allow him to say another word.
He was the lofty president of Watson Group. Whatever he wanted, he could get with a gesture. He didn't need to grovel and beg a woman, even if that woman made him feel somehow different—she was still just a woman.
He watched her figure gradually disappear, pressed his lips together, turned and got in his car to leave.
Only then did Roy dare to speak from the Aston Martin parked nearby. "Mr. FitzRoy, shall we go in?"
Alexander had gone to a meeting in Jin City today and returned late. Worried that Arabella might be concerned, he'd exceptionally let Roy drive him back. They hadn't expected to see Anthony and Arabella standing together just as they arrived at the complex entrance.
Roy had wanted to get out and chase Anthony away from Arabella, but Alexander had stopped him.
Roy didn't understand, but seeing Alexander's inscrutable expression, he could only give up. But these past few minutes sitting in the car had been torture, especially when Anthony grabbed Arabella's wrist—the aura emanating from Mr. FitzRoy had been murderous.
Now that Anthony was finally gone, he couldn't wait to get Mr. FitzRoy inside so he could go back to his little place and crawl under the covers to heal his wounded soul.
Alexander directly pushed open the car door and got out. "You go back first. I'll go in myself."
Roy breathed a long sigh of relief. "Alright."
The night was a bit chilly. Alexander buttoned his suit jacket and walked slowly into the complex.
As he walked, he couldn't help but chuckle coldly.
Anthony was no longer worthy of being his opponent.
Arabella opened the door and went in, only to discover the house was completely dark. She turned on the lights and called out, "Alex?"
No one responded. Was he working late today?
They'd been living together for so long, and Alexander worked overtime very rarely. But sales work had flexible hours anyway, so Arabella didn't think much of it.
She put the food she'd brought back on the table and was about to sit down to eat when she heard a soft sound at the door, followed by the door opening as Alexander walked in.
Arabella smiled and greeted him. "You worked late today?"
Alexander's gaze paused slightly on her smiling face, then moved away imperceptibly as he hummed in response.
Arabella casually asked, "Have you eaten then?"
Alexander glanced at the dishes on the table and said without changing expression, "Been busy until now, haven't had time to eat yet."
Hearing this, Arabella immediately stood up. "Then let me get another set of utensils—you can eat with me."
Although she hadn't bought much and it would be tight for two people, it was already past eight, so eating less would be better for their stomachs anyway.
Alexander smoothly continued, "I actually bought some ingredients yesterday. Let me make a couple dishes."
He opened the refrigerator and took out a box of small shrimp and a box of mushrooms.
Arabella hesitated. "It's so late—by the time you finish cooking, what time will it be? Maybe we should..."
Before she could finish, Alexander smiled and interrupted, "I got my paycheck today and I'm happy. Consider it celebrating for me."
Arabella immediately changed her attitude. "Oh, we definitely need to celebrate that properly!"
She thought for a moment. "How about this—you cook, and I'll go downstairs to buy some wine. Let's have a couple drinks."
She'd seen Anthony today and wasn't in the best mood either.
Alexander said as he headed to the kitchen, "Just order delivery. Don't go out—it's not safe this late at night."
Arabella wanted to say it was only this early—she used to run out at midnight all the time to buy late-night snacks for Jennifer, and she'd been pretty tough.
But then she thought there was no need to take pride in that.
At the Watson family, they'd made her run out alone in the middle of the night to buy snacks, but now, when it was only a little past eight, Alexander wouldn't let her go out alone.
Arabella didn't know if others understood this feeling—it was like someone who'd been charging forward alone through wind and rain suddenly having someone hold an umbrella for them, wipe the raindrops from their face, drape a coat over their shoulders, and tell them that when it was raining, they should stop and didn't need to run desperately because it was raining ahead too.
If they'd never met someone to hold an umbrella for them, that person might have kept running in the rain—maybe for days, maybe for months, or maybe their whole life. They might have even felt proud of it, because they hadn't wasted time even when it was raining.
But they'd met someone to hold an umbrella for them and learned what it felt like to be cared for and protected, learned that not everyone wanted them to run far away, that someone would feel sorry for their hardships.
That's how Arabella felt now. She'd struggled for so long, and meeting Alexander was like meeting someone to hold an umbrella for her.
Her hand unconsciously tightened on the dining chair, her heart aching slightly in a certain spot—somewhat sour and painful, but she felt warm.
Oh no, she seemed to... kind of like Alex.
But he was gay.
If he liked women, she would definitely pursue him without hesitation. Unfortunately, he liked men. Although she couldn't put herself in a gay person's shoes, she knew that sexual orientation wasn't something that could be easily changed.
Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many marriages of convenience in this world.
If Alex knew she kind of liked him, what would his reaction be? He'd probably find it disgusting—she was just the surface wife he'd found to act with.
Thinking this, the sourness in Arabella's heart increased. She quickly chased away all the messy thoughts in her head and comforted herself: it was fine, she probably just coveted the care and concern he gave her, not truly love him.
People—who doesn't like being taken care of? She was just an ordinary person, so feeling this way was normal.
Right, she didn't like Alexander, not at all. Even if she did like him, it wasn't that kind of like.
While Alexander was busy in the kitchen, he glanced toward the living room and found it strange that she'd suddenly gone quiet.
Was the shock Anthony gave her tonight still lingering?
Thinking this, his cooking movements became three times more forceful. It didn't matter—that man didn't know how to cherish her, but he knew her worth.
Sooner or later, he'd completely cover over any trace that Anthony had ever existed.
Arabella was the type with a big heart, and people with big hearts were good at letting things go.
In just a few minutes, she'd done the mental work and convinced herself she had absolutely no feelings for him. So when Alexander came out with the dishes, she was completely certain she wasn't interested in him at all.
Therefore, her posture with the wine glass was quite bold as she filled two glasses to the brim. Alexander took his and raised an eyebrow. "This much?"
Arabella smiled. "We're celebrating for you, aren't we? I really spent big today—199 dollars for a bottle of wine. We definitely need to drink to our heart's content, you know?"
As she spoke, she put the wine glass to her lips first and gulped down several mouthfuls.
Half a glass of red wine went down just like that.
Alexander paused, a hint of heartache in his blue eyes. He knew she'd loved Anthony deeply, but he'd never imagined Anthony's damage to her would last this long.
She was the type who couldn't handle alcohol well—usually two beers would knock her out, but today she was chugging high-proof red wine like it was a soft drink.
Her heart must be really hurting, right?
Alexander put down his wine glass, walked to her side, deliberately making his voice gentle. "Let me help you sit."
Drinking strong red wine this aggressively, she wouldn't feel it right away, but when the alcohol hit her, she'd feel terrible.
Arabella looked at him in confusion. "Why are you helping me? Cheers! Eat some food! Come on, sit down and drink."
She pulled Alexander to sit at the dining table, then sat across from him. After eating a couple bites, she raised her wine glass again. "Come on, cheers! Here's to you finding your ideal partner soon and finding happiness!"
Alexander frowned. What kind of ridiculous toast was that? Seeing her about to put the glass to her lips again, he immediately reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Arabella's eyes were hazy. "Why are you grabbing me?"
She had no idea how alluring she looked at this moment with her flushed cheeks and misty eyes.
Alexander's voice became several degrees huskier, like he was coaxing a child. "You're drunk. You can't drink anymore."
"I'm not drunk," Arabella tried to reclaim her wine glass. "Give it to me! We agreed to cheers, and I've almost finished this glass while you haven't even taken a sip!"
Alexander glanced at his own wine glass. Hmm, she still knew to catch his mistake—not completely out of it yet.
It looked like his plan to find an excuse to eat, drink, and have a heart-to-heart with her tonight was ruined.
Alexander stood up and helped her up from the chair, his concern mixed with worry. "Is your stomach burning? Does your head hurt? It's not comfortable sitting here—let me help you to the couch."
Arabella's mind was still somewhat clear at this point, but her limbs really weren't obeying her anymore. The hard chair was indeed uncomfortable to sit on, so she obediently let Alexander half-carry, half-pull her to the couch.
Alexander placed a throw pillow under her head and said gently, "Rest here for a bit. I'll get you some water."
The moment he turned around, two arms wrapped around his waist. Alexander's entire body went rigid.