Chapter 71 The Hard-to-Remove Thorn
Jack's handkerchief was a light blue, giving off a fresh scent that was almost invigorating. It was a men's handkerchief, so it was larger than usual, and when tied around the neck, it looked more like a scarf, though it was made of cotton instead of silk.
It looked a bit odd, but Alison had no other choice.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "You ready?" Jack's voice came from outside.
"Coming," she muttered, wondering if she owed Jack something from a past life to be putting up with so much from him now.
When she opened the door, Jack and Aimée were still standing there, holding hands. Jack paused when he saw the handkerchief around Alison's neck. "Aimée, why'd you lend my handkerchief to Miss Fairchild as a scarf?"
Aimée laughed. "Neither of us had one, so we borrowed yours. We'll buy a new one on the way and return it to you."
Jack reached out to pull the handkerchief off Alison's neck.
Alison instinctively dodged, hitting her head on the door, seeing stars from the pain. But she couldn't worry about that now. "I broke my makeup mirror and cut my neck while picking up the pieces, so..." She quickly made up a lie, thankful Jack hadn't seen the mark earlier, or it would have been hard to explain.
"Oh, I see." Jack let go and continued holding Aimée's hand as they walked ahead.
Alison followed them silently, feeling like a third wheel, or worse, a glaringly obvious one.
When they got into Aimée's car, she felt like she was being set up.
But with Aimée's constant smile, she couldn't say anything.
She sat quietly in the back, watching the Parisian scenery, slowly calming down.
She had come to Paris to persuade Jack to return to the Winston family, but now it seemed he didn't need her at all.
He had Aimée by his side, his real girlfriend.
Thinking about the scene from that morning, her heart ached again, unable to forget.
"Jack, the next street is Place de la Concorde," Alison reminded him.
"Yeah, I've been here before, but it was a long time ago when I was still in school. Aimée, find a place to park. I want to walk along the Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe," Jack said.
Alison knew the Champs-Élysées was the most famous street in Paris, a must-see for anyone visiting. Walking from there, you could reach the Arc de Triomphe directly.
Walking among the plane trees, the lush greenery was refreshing, everything so beautiful it was almost intoxicating.
"Alison, take a picture of us," Aimée said, handing Alison the camera with a smile.
"Sure," Alison took the camera, feeling a bit uneasy. After all, Aimée had lent her Jack's handkerchief. Maybe Aimée had already guessed why she was wearing it and just hoped she wouldn't say anything, or she'd be too embarrassed to face anyone.
Aimée pulled Jack to stand in front of a plane tree, with a vast pastoral landscape behind them, looking stunning.
Alison pressed the shutter, taking one photo after another. But her eyes were always on Jack and Aimée's faces, their bright smiles, so harmonious and well-matched.
"Alison, let me take a picture of you," Aimée suggested enthusiastically, though she actually couldn't stand Alison. Last night's events had created a rift between them, and she had disliked this Emily-like woman from the start.
"No, thanks. I don't like taking pictures. I don't look good in them," Alison declined. She didn't want to intrude on Jack and Aimée's time together. Having the task of taking photos made her feel a bit more at ease, giving her some sense of purpose.
"Come on, stand by this flower bed. Your pink bell-bottoms look amazing against the green grass. It'd be a shame not to take a picture," Aimée insisted, pulling Alison to the flower bed, determined to take her photo.
"No need, just take a few at the Arc de Triomphe," Alison said. She knew the Arc de Triomphe was a must-see, and she wanted to show off its grandeur to Sophia and Ethan back home.
"We'll take pictures there too," Aimée said, holding Alison's hand tightly, not wanting to miss this opportunity she had created. Suddenly, she seemed to trip on something, and in the chaos, she yanked off the handkerchief tied around Alison's neck.
Sunlight hit Alison's neck, and Jack looked up, clearly seeing the hickey there.
He thought, that must be from Aidan. Then he realized how he had ended up in Alison's room last night.
"Alison, why weren't you in your room last night? Why were Aimée and I in your room?" Jack suddenly asked, wondering why he hadn't thought to ask this sooner.
The handkerchief hung loosely around Alison's neck, and she was struggling to explain the hickey. Now Jack's question made it even harder. She had no idea.
She shook her head, "I... I don't know."
"Jack, it's your fault," Aimée interjected at the right moment. She had already thought of an explanation, but she only cared about herself and Jack. As for why Alison wasn't in her room, she didn't want to explain. Let Jack continue thinking Alison was with Aidan last night.
The hickey was the best evidence, impossible to deny.
"My fault?" Jack was confused.
"Jack, last night we took the key cards from the lobby. After getting off the elevator, you kept saying the third room was yours, but you started counting from my room, so you ended up in Miss Fairchild's room. I was drunk too and tried to catch up and tell you, but..." Aimée blushed slightly, lowering her head.
Her shy demeanor made it seem like something had happened between her and Jack last night.
Jack's gaze stayed on Alison's neck, thinking she might have been with Aidan last night, making him feel uncomfortable.
"I... I don't know..." Alison stammered.
"Jack, you're making Miss Fairchild embarrassed," Aimée said, trying to smooth things over.
Alison lowered her head even more, wishing she could disappear.
But the more she acted like this, the more Jack wouldn't let it go. "Alison, didn't you say your neck was cut by the mirror shards? Why are there only red marks and no cuts now?"