Chapter 38
From James's Perspective:
When I arrived, I found Amelia drinking alone at a bar.
She was slumped over the table, her short top riding up to reveal a sliver of her slim waist, with half a glass of wine beside her hand.
Although it was a music bar and not too rowdy, there were still several men eyeing Amelia with less than honorable intentions.
I strode over and draped my jacket over her.
"Darling." Amelia lifted her head and grabbed my hand before I could pull it back, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "I miss you so much."
Without giving me a chance to react, she wrapped her arms around my waist.
I frowned, wanting to push her away, but then I felt wetness seeping through my shirt onto my skin.
My hand ended up just resting on Amelia's shoulder, patting her gently to comfort her. "Amelia, Isabella is still at home. We should go back."
My words were like a silent reminder.
Amelia lifted her head, her eyes clearing for a moment: "I know, you're not him."
I looked into her watery eyes, but another pair of eyes flashed before mine.
Sophia's eyes, stubborn and cold.
Even when filled with tears, Sophia's eyes would never look this fragile.
Amelia stood up, stumbling a few steps, mumbling repeatedly, "I know, you're not him."
I snapped back to reality, shocked that I would think of Sophia at a time like this.
I quickly collected myself and followed behind Amelia, carefully supporting her.
I knew she was thinking of Jasper again, and my heart felt complicated.
After settling Amelia in, my assistant called.
I quietly closed the bedroom door and answered the phone.
"Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith was picked up by a man."
"Andrew?"
"Yes."
My eyes narrowed dangerously, shooting out a cold, dark glare, but more than that was a possessiveness I didn't even realize I had.
How wonderful!
I put away my phone and was about to leave when a soft hand suddenly grabbed my finger.
"James, it's too late. Going back and forth, and you have to go to the office tomorrow. Just stay in the guest room tonight!"
"No need." I refused without thinking, but then she said, "I feel sick from drinking, and I'm worried Isabella might look for me in the middle of the night and get scared. But if it's really inconvenient for you, then forget it."
Seeing her lowered eyelashes, I finally gave in. "I'll stay in the living room. You get some rest, and don't drink this much next time."
After saying that, I didn't notice the flash of disappointment on Amelia's face. I closed the door and walked to the living room sofa.
I lazily reclined on the sofa, my jawline tense, my eyes fixed on the chat page with Sophia.
Thinking about how she was pleasant and friendly with other men, I felt an indescribable frustration and discomfort in my heart, wanting nothing more than to rush to her immediately.
I wanted even more to tell her that I regretted agreeing to the divorce and didn't want to divorce anymore.
From Sophia's Perspective:
At Shadow Circuit Studio, my fingers flew across the keyboard. My phone screen lit up beside me—an unknown number sent me a picture.
I hit enter, picked up my phone to unlock it, and when I saw the picture clearly, I suddenly smiled.
In a dimly lit corner of the bar, Amelia was hugging James.
And James was looking down at her, one hand gently resting on her hair, his expression tender.
A patience James never showed me.
It was a heartwarming scene, yet it felt like invisible hands forcefully tearing open my chest.
The night wind drilled through the gap into my lungs, spreading through my limbs, chilling me to the bone.
I slowly clenched my fingers, my fingertips digging into the soft flesh of my palm, yet I felt nothing.
James was gentle and gentlemanly, but this gentleness and courtesy belonged only to Amelia.
Realizing this, I slowly regained my composure.
A man like James wasn't worth my sadness.
I gathered my thoughts, typed the last line of code, and looked up to see golden sunlight slowly pouring from the horizon. My limbs were filled with strength again.
Today was a brand new day, and every day from now on would be a fresh start.
When I got home and pushed open the door, I wasn't greeted by a cold, empty room, but by a delicious aroma.
The door opened directly to the dining room, where two place settings were laid out.
Taking two steps forward, with nothing blocking my view, I could see everything in the kitchen.
Amelia cracked an egg into the pan. The oil and egg collided with a sizzling sound, and she stepped back to avoid the splattering oil.
James happened to be standing behind her. With one swift motion, he pulled Amelia behind him and clumsily flipped the egg with a spatula.
"You dummy, the yolk broke. This fried egg doesn't look good at all—you're eating this one." Amelia took over the spatula, teasing him gently.
"Actually, you didn't need to go to all this trouble." James took the plate, turned around, and our eyes met.
He stood still, his gaze fixed directly on me, his eyes deep and unreadable.
Perhaps he was blaming me for showing up at the wrong time and ruining the good atmosphere.
"James, look at this..." Amelia held up a plate, but stopped mid-sentence when she saw me. Her smile stiffened slightly. She put down the plate and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sophia, so you are home."
"She wasn't home last night." James pulled out a chair and sat down, turning to look at Amelia with a softened expression. "You still have to take Isabella to school this morning. You didn't need to come back here specially to make me breakfast."
I ignored their interaction. After staying up all night, I was exhausted and had no interest in watching them show affection. I just wanted to rest.
I looked up, meeting James's eyes, and hearing his last sentence, the photo from last night suddenly flashed before my eyes.
What a deliberate explanation.
"It doesn't take much time. You took care of me yesterday, so you should have a good breakfast this morning." Amelia smiled gently, came over, and pulled me to sit down. "Sophia, you should eat something too."
She forcefully pressed a fork into my hand, standing beside me with a gentle smile and a meaningful tone. "Sophia, you've been so busy lately, you haven't had time for things at home. But with me here, you both need to eat well."
Clearly, she was blaming me for not preparing breakfast recently.
As if she was the one who had been preparing breakfast for this family for three years, not me.
Seeing Amelia standing there, James frowned and was about to get up to let her sit. "You've been busy all morning. You're the one who should eat. Your health isn't good to begin with; you don't need to go to all this trouble."
"I have no appetite. You two eat." I slammed the fork on the table. "And no need to be so polite with each other. This family isn't so poor that two people need to fight over one meal."