Chapter 183: Denial to the Death (Part 2)
Alison was still unable to stand up to Aimée.
The car had driven away, yet Jack’s gaze remained fixed on the rear-view mirror, unable to tear himself from Alison’s figure.
He watched as Aidan helped Alison to her feet and picked up Ethan. The three of them walked together toward the car.
Veins bulged on Jack’s forehead, his eyes bloodshot. He had searched for Alison for so long, and when he was on the verge of giving up, he saw her leaning against Aidan’s shoulder.
What the hell was this?
“Ah!” Aimée’s sudden scream snapped Jack back.
He quickly averted his gaze and looked ahead, spotting a pedestrian crossing in front of the car.
Jack slammed on the brakes.
“Are you crazy? This is a crosswalk! Don’t you have eyes?” the pedestrian yelled.
Jack listened to the rant, his mind blanking.
Alison was with Aidan—that was why she hadn’t answered his calls or met him.
“Jack, what’s wrong?” Aimée asked, feigning concern while inwardly smirking. She’d received a message that Alison and Aidan were sitting by the roadside. She had deliberately made Jack take this route to pick up the altered wedding dress.
She hadn’t expected everything to fall into place so neatly.
Alison lost her daughter—but that was none of her concern.
Jack’s expression had already darkened.
When the car pulled up outside the boutique, he said coolly, “Aimée, go get it. I’ll wait in the car.”
His mind was in turmoil. He recalled the night the apartment security guard told him Alison had come. He had happily chased after her, only for her to slip away.
He couldn’t fathom why she had fled. He hadn’t done anything to upset her.
Outside, night fell, neon lights flickering on.
Then his phone rang.
Could it be Alison?
But the screen showed his mother.
“Jack, when are you coming home?” Isabella asked with concern.
Suppressing his irritation, Jack replied, “Mom, we’re already at the store entrance. Aimée will grab the clothes before we head back.”
“Alright. Your grandfather is waiting for you to come home for dinner. Drive carefully.”
Isabella was being clever this time—to prevent him from backing out, she had even brought his grandfather into it. Last night, she had said that if he married Aimée, she would agree to let him take Alison’s two children—provided they took the Winston surname.
He could only smile bitterly. He knew she wanted grandchildren, not Alison.
He couldn’t marry Alison—she had left him, and now she was with Aidan.
“Jack, let’s go.” Aimée had already gotten the dress, opened the car door, and climbed in, gesturing for him to drive.
He glanced at her—the slight curve of her belly had grown more pronounced these past days.
He said nothing and started the car, speeding toward the family home.
As the vehicle retraced its route and neared the KFC, his heart began to pound. His gaze swept toward the seats where Alison and Aidan had sat. But there was nothing.
A flicker of confusion crossed him. Why hadn’t Sophia been there?
“Aimée, are you hungry?” he asked. He wanted to go into KFC.
“We’ll eat when we get back. They’re waiting for us. I’m only a little hungry; it’s fine. Thank you, Jack.” Aimée smiled.
Jack glanced back at KFC, then drove away.
The car soon reached the ancestral home, perched halfway up the mountain. Built in the last century, its exterior carried an air of ancient mystery. Its Gothic style lent it both elegance and nobility, a mansion with singular charm.
As Jack drove in, his mother stood on the stone steps.
Spotting the car, she waved.
Aimée greeted, “Aunt Isabella.”