Chapter 3


    Chapter 3 Despicable


    Moore’s pupils darted around the room beforending back on me in a panic. Then, she lowered her


    voice and asked angrily, “You and Iddy were on a call?”


    I looked up at her, feigning innocence, and nodded. “Yes, I must’ve identally dialed him just before


    you arrived.”


    “You…”


    Seeing her flushed and angry face, my mood improved considerably. The call had not been


    disconnected, but the man on the other end was not saying anything. After quite some time, his


    subdued voice came through. “If it’s nothing important, I’ll hang up now.”


    He had just listened to Moore’s plea for me to divorce him as if it was entertainment.


    After I hung up, Moore red at me. “Yvette Scott, you’re despicable.”


    Despicable?


    I looked at her and smiled. “Moore, do you not understand what the word ‘despicable‘ means? You’re


    standing in my house, and the man you just arrogantly told me to leave is my legally wedded


    husband. How are you calling me despicable?”


    “Yvette, Idris loves me!” She was really angry now. She red at me, every fiber in her b*dy desperate


    to convince me that Idris loved her.


    I nodded, not intending to refute her at all. Then, I pointed to the door and dropped my smile. “The


    door’s over there. Take your time as I won’t be seeing you out.”


    It seemed she was still unwilling to give in as she red at me. “Yvette, why are you so arrogant? If I


    hadn’t gotten married back then, what right would you have had to marry Iddy? You’re just a cold, silly


    monster. Iddy would never even spare you a second nce…”


    I did not want to drive her out, but she was just too irritating. I could not stop myself from getting up to


    push her out of the house.


    After closing the door, I rubbed my temples, feeling a headacheing on. Life with Idris was


    bing increasingly uninteresting.


    Since I had slept too much during the day, I could not fall asleep that night. This was a prime example


    of how one could mess up one’s sleep schedule.


    Idris did not return home until one in the morning. Hearing the engine roar from the yard surprised me.


    Considering Moore had fought with me today, knowing her temper, it was probably not easy for her to


    allow Idris toe back home.


    “Why aren’t you asleep?” Idris changed into his house sl*ppers at the entrance and hung his coat up on


    the rack as he asked.


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    Tapping the tablet in my hand, I responded softly, “Slept too much during the day.”


    The couch beside me sank in a little as the man’s slender b*dy sat down next to me. He nced at the


    tablet in my hand, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. “Thinking about redecorating the house?”


    His warm breath brushed against my ear, tickling me a little. I put down the tablet and nced at him


    out of the corner of my eyes. “Do I have your permission for it?”


    He looked indifferent and nodded. “The house is yours too. You have the right to decide how to


    decorate it.‘


    >>


    Then, he nced at his wristwatch and stood up. “It’ste. Go to bed.”


    Watching his retreating figure, I could not quite gauge his emotions. He bought and decorated this


    house while he and Moore were passionately in love. How could he so easily agree to redecorating it,


    erasing all traces of their past love?


    Over the past two years, I had gottenfortable living here, so I did not pay much attention to the


    decor. However, Moore had irked me today, so I wanted to change everything up just to spite her.


    Idris was not in the bedroom when I entered it, but there was the sound of running watering from


    the bathroom, so he was probably taking a shower.


    I made the bed andy down, starting to scroll through videos.


    Not long after, Idris came out of the bathroom. He had always maintained a good physique. With a


    towel tied around his waist, all that could be seen were the well–built muscles of his torso. His tanned


    skin made him look a little rugged, giving him a powerful aura.


    I had been scrolling through videos, but could not resist looking at the handsome man standing before


    me. Probably sensing my gaze, he looked at me. Then, as he walked over, he tossed the towel in his


    hand to me and indifferently said, “Dry my hair.”


    I said, “Huh?”


    I was a bit stunned. Over the past two years, besides essentialmunication, we hardly spoke half a


    sentence more than needed. Asking for such an intimate favor, like drying each other’s hair, seemed


    so alien.


    He had already sat on the bed. I hesitated for a few seconds but eventually got up and kneeled beside


    him to dry his hair.


    His hair was short and thick, but it dried rather quickly.


    I prepared to lie down again after putting down the towel, only to be pulled into his arms gently. I was a


    bit stunned. Meeting his dark eyes, I stuttered, “Idr… is?”


    Despite my confusion and panic, he made everything feel natural. Two years into our marital life, there


    were things we both understood about each other without having to say so.


    Knowing what he would do next, Iplied, as always.


    However, when hisrge hand slid up to my abdomen, everything seemed to freeze. I sensed that


    something was wrong, so I looked up at him.


    “What’s… wrong?”


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