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“Vincent, Eva, we’re back!” Alison beamed.
“Finally! Javon, what took you so long to pick up Alison? Vincent and I were worried sick,” Eva said.
Vincent echoed, “Indeed we were. Try and be more reliable, OK, Javon? Alison, let’s go. Eva has already prepared a feast. Come inside!”
Alison looked back with a smile, winked at Javon
mischievously, and then walked inside with Vincent and Eva on either side of her.
Javon followed them, smiling and shaking his head helplessly.
Then gradually, a trace of tenderness and affection filled his
eyes.
After the meal, he drove Alison back to her apartment in the
city.
Before he left, he looked at her, his eyes deep. It seemed he wanted to say something to her.
But he didn’t. He just took out a small gift box and instructed “Open it when you get back.”
Alison was a bit surprised. “But you’ve already given me a gif tonight.”
He reached out and brushed the snowflakes off her bangs, chuckling, his eyes sparking. “This is different.”
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She was stunned for a second and then nodded in a daze. Then she smiled and said bye to him.
Coming back inside, she turned around and unexpectedly met a pair of sad eyes in the dark.
Then Antonio said, his voice hoarse, “You’re finally back,
Grace.”
Alison tensed at once. She turned on the light and frowned. “You again. How did you get in?”
He stared at her without blinking while approaching her. Instead of answering her question, he asked, “Who’s that man? Why did he give you a lift?
“Why did you accept his gift?
“Do you have feelings for him?”
His tone was filled with deliberately suppressed bitterness as well as jolting agony.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Before she could answer, h held her, throwing caution to the wind, and begged her in a low voice in her ear.
“Grace, pity me…
“Don’t pretend that you don’t know me anymore, OK?”
Alison exerted great force to break free from him. As she stepped back, she grabbed a knife from the table. “My name isn’t Grace. Go, or I’ll call the police right now.”
The wariness and disgust in her eyes broke Antonio’s heart, and he fell silent.
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Half an hour ago, sitting alone in the dark, he went through all the materials sent from home.
It was written in black and white that she wasn’t Grace; she was Alison.
She was Alison, Grace’s twin sister. They were separated at
birth.
But he refused to buy it.
He didn’t believe in such coincidences.
And never did he think he would mistake someone else for
Grace.
His gut, his feelings, everything, they were all telling him that the woman he was looking at was Grace, his wife who had lived with him for thirteen years.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and suddenly, his eyes darkened.
He strode forward, grabbed Alison by the wrist, took the knife away from her, pressed her against the wall, and kissed her earlobe, her most sensitive part.
However, she wasn’t turned on at all; instead, she struggled even harder.
During their scuffle, a corner of her clothes was lifted
inadvertently, and he was shocked at once, standing in situ motionlessly.
There wasn’t even a single trace of a tattoo on her lower abdomen at all.
She clapped
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him with all her might and was about to make a dash for the
door.
However, in the next second, he held the doorknob tightly.
She turned around, only to see him staring at her. His eyes were dull and lifeless, and he looked just like a walking dead.
He said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion, “It’s cold outside. Don’t go out. I’ll leave.”
Chapter43
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Chapter43
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.