Chapter 143 Daniel Is in Trouble
"What if I insist on going out!" Scarlett said angrily, trying to force her way through.
The two servants immediately stood before her, pleading tearfully.
"Mrs. Wilson, I'm a divorced woman raising a child on my own. My ex-husband only knows how to drink. I can't rely on him. It's not easy for me to find a job. Please have mercy on me."
"Mrs. Wilson is the kindest. My mother can only lie in bed. I can't lose my job either."
Scarlett fell silent.
John was also a man who only knew how to drink and gamble, and James was still unconscious in his hospital bed.
Scarlett didn't know if what these two servants said was true or false, but she instantly felt their pain.
She had always been soft-hearted. Feeling frustrated, she turned and went upstairs.
Scarlett ran to the study and turned on the computer, only to find that even the internet was disconnected.
She stormed out of the study angrily and ran into Jane, who was bringing her a fruit plate.
Jane tried to persuade her: "Mrs. Scarlett Wilson, please don't fight with Mr. Daniel Wilson anymore. Just apologize to Mr. Daniel Wilson. He really does care about you."
"He cares about me by imprisoning me? Well, thanks a lot."
Scarlett rolled her eyes and reached out to Jane: "Jane, let me use your phone."
Jane immediately shook her head, "Sorry Mrs. Wilson, I don't have my phone on me."
"I'm calling Daniel."
Hearing Scarlett's words, Jane immediately pulled out her phone from her pocket without missing a beat.
"Look at my memory, my phone is in my pocket. Let me dial for Mrs. Wilson."
Jane dialed and handed the phone to Scarlett.
Daniel's deep, calm voice soon came through: "Is she being good at home? What is she doing?"
Scarlett laughed coldly, "Very good. She's being good and cursing you to step in dog poop when you go out, get stuck in traffic when you drive, choke on water when you drink, and trip when you walk!"
After Scarlett's fierce string of curses, before she could continue, a deep, magnetic laugh came from the other end.
His laughter seemed to carry the vibration of his chest, traveling straight to Scarlett's ear like an electric current.
Scarlett rarely heard him laugh so happily. She thought he must be crazy.
She became even more annoyed, "What are you laughing at?"
"You're really cute."
Daniel restrained his laughter, but his voice lifted slightly.
Even her curses were so gentle and cute, not harsh at all. How could they have any bite?
Her heart was still soft toward him after all.
Thinking this, Daniel's heart also softened.
He continued: "The doctor said you've been too tired lately. Rest well at home. Tell Jane what you want to eat. If the servants can't make it, tell me and I'll bring it back after work, or we can go out to eat together tonight."
As Daniel spoke softly, Scarlett's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.
"Give me back my phone, have the servants let me out. I promise I won't leave for now, okay? I need to contact Sarah..."
Before Scarlett could finish, he interrupted her.
"I'll let Sarah know. You don't need to worry."
Scarlett said through gritted teeth, "Daniel, what are you trying to do?"
"Scarlett, I said this morning that I wasn't a good husband before. I hope during this cooling-off period, I can have a chance to make it up to you."
After saying this, he hung up directly.
Scarlett held the phone, feeling like she'd punched cotton—even more frustrated.
But what was Daniel talking about, what doctor?
Scarlett frowned at Jane, "What did he mean about a doctor?"
But Jane pulled the phone from Scarlett's palm, smiled and said: "Mrs. Scarlett Wilson, I don't know. If you want to know, you should ask Mr. Daniel Wilson later. If there's nothing else, I'll go downstairs now."
Jane shoved the fruit plate into Scarlett's hands, turned and went downstairs.
Scarlett had no other options, so she simply channeled her anger into appetite, viciously stabbed a piece of dragon fruit, carried the fruit plate into the bedroom, and slammed the door hard.
She must have really been tired, because she took another nap in the afternoon.
When she woke up, the sky outside was filled with brilliant sunset clouds, and even the floor was dyed with vivid colors.
Scarlett went downstairs, and Jane smiled at her.
"Mrs. Scarlett Wilson must be hungry. Mr. Daniel Wilson isn't back yet. Would Mrs. Scarlett Wilson like to have some dessert or something first?"
Being locked up, Scarlett could only eat and sleep. She felt like Daniel was trying to keep her like a pet.
She wasn't particularly hungry and shook her head: "Did he say when he'd be back?"
After a whole day, Scarlett's emotions had calmed down considerably.
She wanted to wait for Daniel to come back and have a proper talk.
Jane shook her head, "Mr. Daniel Wilson hasn't called back. Should I get my phone for Mrs. Scarlett Wilson to call and hurry Mr. Daniel Wilson? Mr. Daniel Wilson would definitely be very happy."
As Jane was about to get her phone, Scarlett immediately waved her hand.
"No need, I'm not waiting for him anyway. He can come back whenever he wants."
She, Scarlett, wasn't going to call and nag him.
Scarlett thought about the past, when she'd personally cook meals and wait at home for Daniel to return, calling him to ask when he'd be back—how many times had she done that?
She often couldn't get through to Daniel. Many times, she had to call Tom instead.
The answer she got was nothing more than that Daniel was busy and couldn't come back.
Scarlett sat on the living room sofa, watching TV listlessly.
The sunset gradually got swallowed by darkness, and the garden lights came on one by one.
Still no sound of a car pulling in outside.
Scarlett got hungry. She stood up and told Jane to serve dinner.
Jane looked hesitant, "Mrs. Scarlett Wilson, why don't you wait a bit longer for Mr. Daniel Wilson, or should I call to ask?"
Scarlett's eyes were cold as she walked toward the dining room.
"Because he's not back, I don't deserve to eat, is that it?"
"No, no, it's because Mr. Wilson said earlier he would come back, he'll definitely come back." Jane quickly waved her hands to explain.
But Scarlett's expression grew even colder. Jane probably understood that Daniel had stood her up.
Jane didn't continue, silently turning to tell the servants to serve dinner.
Daniel didn't come back, but Scarlett's appetite wasn't affected. She ate quite a bit.
After dinner, Scarlett walked around the garden twice with a servant to digest, then changed into dance clothes and did an hour of basic exercises in the dance studio.
Then she went back to her room to wash up and lie down.
The next day, when Scarlett woke up, she instinctively reached toward the space beside her.
Cold and empty.
How ridiculous.
Daniel, who said he'd come back, who said he wanted to make amends and fulfill his duties as a husband, had locked her here while he himself didn't come home all night.
Even more ridiculous was that she couldn't remain indifferent.
No matter how calm and uncaring she appeared, her heart still spread with loss and pain from the coldness she touched.
Scarlett lay in bed, slowly withdrew her hand, curled up and closed her eyes again.
Scarlett couldn't help thinking—had Daniel gone to be with Alice again?
Just then, footsteps suddenly sounded outside.
A bit hurried, clearly the sound of dress shoes hitting the floor. The footsteps quickly reached the bedroom door.
The door was pushed open, but a fire suddenly burned in Scarlett's heart.
She said through gritted teeth: "I just prepared some offerings for you in my dream last night, so how can you still come back? I get why you took my phone—you were afraid the crematorium would call me to ask how well-done you wanted to be, right?"
After Scarlett finished speaking, she heard no response from Daniel. Angry, she grabbed a pillow and threw it toward the door without even looking.
"Mrs., Mrs. Scarlett Wilson, it's me."
The pillow hit someone, but it wasn't Daniel.
Tom stood in the doorway, taking a while to process the deep meaning in her words.
Scarlett had just been cursing Daniel, asking why he wasn't dead yet.
But Daniel really was in serious trouble—he'd been sent to the emergency room.