The wife who slept with me for five years and was held in my palm was the one who indirectly killed my dad. All those years of marriage and false love were just the so-called compensation for her guilt. It was really ridiculous for me. Sadness and anger rolled in my heart.
My eyes had just fallen on the wine glass in my hand when Esmeralda suddenly hugged me gently from behind. Her head buried into my neck. Esmeralda’s drunken voice was full of tenderness.
“Euharrell Givenlee, why did you leave for so long? I miss you so much. Let's go home, Euharrell. I really love you so much. I can’t live without you.”
In recent years, every time Esmeralda got drunk, she would murmur her love for me. Her sisters all said that the truth came out after drinking. It made me believe that Esmeralda really loved me. But now, all of this seems extraordinarily ridiculous to me.
I didn't move at all. I just pushed her away calmly. Then I helped her into the car. Esmeralda collapsed on my lap. Her brows stretched out breathing evenly like she was asleep.
“Raymond Fletcher! Raymond, why didn’t you choose me? Why?”
This time I finally heard it clearly, the name that appeared in her dreams countless times.