Chapter 181
Chapter 181:
A man stood beside it. Brandon.
No, tonight wouldn’t be peaceful after all.
The buggy came to a stop at its designated spot. Millie stepped down, adjusting the strap of her bag as she steadied herself. Just as her heels touched the stone path, a tall shadow stretched across the ground beside her. She didn’t need to look up. She already knew who it was.
“Mr. Watson.” Matthew greeted him politely.
Brandon gave a small wave, silently motioning for him to leave.
Millie said nothing. Neither did Brandon. They stood quietly, the silence stretching between them. Under the soft glow of the moon, two people who once shared everything now felt like strangers standing on opposite shores.
Brandon’s gaze lingered on Millie. Her hair was swept up now, no longer cascading down as he remembered. The scent around her was unfamiliar—something fresh, elegant, not the comforting fragrance he once associated with her. Even her shoes were different, sharp, graceful heels that clicked with quiet confidence, replacing the simpler pairs she used to wear.
He frowned slightly. It was already late April, yet she was still wearing a thin coat. She had changed. In more ways than one.
After a long pause, he finally broke the silence. “Are you cold?”
He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm gently, as if unsure whether he still had the right to. Before his fingers could rest on her arm, she moved back ever so slightly. His touch skimmed the fabric of her sleeve, then fell away, leaving behind an odd hollowness.
His brows tightened. Her clothes felt too loose, too light. Had she lost weight? He studied her more closely—her already delicate face now sharper, almost fragile. The sight made her look heartbreakingly frail. His jaw tensed.
Millie said nothing in response to his question. Instead, she straightened her posture and spoke with soft restraint, reclaiming control of the moment.
“What do you want, Brandon?”
It took him a second to remember why he had waited there. Updates are released by
He took a deliberate step forward, his voice low but edged with accusation.
“That little girl with you… the one making headlines. They say she calls you her mother. When did you give birth to a child?”
As he spoke, his gaze dropped instinctively to her abdomen, searching for some trace of the past.
“It has nothing to do with you,” she replied coolly, offering no explanation.
A surge of irritation flickered in his eyes. “Millie,” he said, his voice steely, “we are still married—on paper at least. And now I find out you’ve been raising a child I’ve never heard about? You expect me to stay silent?”
Millie turned her face away, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Where did she come from?” he asked again, his voice more forceful now. “We’ve… shared so much. Countless nights, countless chances. But there was never a child. And suddenly—”
“Stop.” Her voice cut through his like a blade.
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