Chapter 40


    On top of a pile of junk, there was something that looked like a "decorative painting." Brett went


    over and turned it around, only to be stunned by what he saw.


    It wasn''t a decorative painting at all, but rather a wedding photo of him and Izabe.


    He kind of remembered the photo, but he thought it had been smashed and thrown away by


    Izabe. Why was it here, perfectly intact?


    Did she secretly keep and frame it afterwards? If she had kept it for four years, why was the photo


    now thrown among a bunch of junk?


    Brett couldn''t pinpoint his feelings about it. All this time, he had been denying Izabe''s changing


    feelings for him, but now, seeing this abandoned wedding photo, he had to admit that Izabe really


    gave him up.


    In the past, he had always called Izabe a cheap woman and confidently believed that she would


    remain so for life. He never thought that there woulde a day when Izabe would stop loving


    him. The day came out of nowhere.


    Brett clenched the photo frame tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.


    As soon as Izabe came out, she saw him standing in front of that pile of junk. She walked closer


    and saw clearly what Brett was holding–their wedding photo.


    Izabe said, "I didn''t have the heart to throw away it before, but now I''m moving and this


    meaningless thing is just annoying. It brings back bad memories."


    Brett''s eyes, already somber, grew even colder as he responded, "So you''re discarding it now?"


    Izabe retorted, "What else should I do? Keep it around to upset people? I assume you don''t like it


    either, right?"


    Indeed, Brett didn''t like it. He despised both Izabe and the wedding photo. As she had stated, the


    photo only served as a catalyst for painful memories. It should have been disposed of long ago, and


    there was no reason to hold onto it now.


    The two stood in a tense silence, the atmosphere growing stifling. However, their confrontation was


    abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door.


    Content (C) N?v/elDra/ma.Org.


    Izabe hurriedly made her way to open the door, and this time, it was an elderly man who collected


    scrap materials. The old man had a tow truck attached to a hemp rope.


    "Miss, where can I find the unwanted scrap?" the old man inquired.


    "It''s inside; pleasee in," Izabe replied, stepping aside to make room for the old man and his


    tow truck.


    "I''ll assist you with the rope," she added, offering her help.


    The old man waved his hand. "No need, I can handle it myself. Just don''t mind my dirty


    appearance."


    People living here were wealthy, and he was far from clean. Every time he collected scrap, he


    encountered some disdainful looks, but not this time. This beautiful and kind-hearted girl treated him


    very politely.


    Izabe invited the old man inside and graciously offered him a ss of water. The old man


    gratefully drank the water and then proceeded to begin his work, his eyes gleaming with anticipation


    upon seeing the pile of discarded items. It appeared to hold considerable value.


    Curiosity piqued, the old man turned to the man standing before him and asked, "Are you certain


    you don''t need this?" His gaze fell upon Brett, who maintained a cold and silent demeanor.


    However, it was Izabe who responded, "Yes, for now, only these items. I''ll contact you again when


    I''m ready to move."


    "Alright," the old man acknowledged, understanding her request. He continued his task of sorting


    through the collected junk. As he was about to pick up the wedding photo, Brett, who had been


    silently observing, unexpectedly spoke up.


    "Leave the wedding photo," hemanded.


    Izabe, who had been assisting with the sorting process, lifted her gaze to meet Brett''s. Brett felt a


    hint of unease under her prating stare, but he had already made his request. Even he couldn''t


    fathom why he wanted to hold onto the photo, but now he had to find a justification for his decision.


    "Our divorce isn''t finalized, and there''s not even a wedding photo in the house. What kind of


    pathetic scene is that?"


    Izabe interrupted hisme excuse, "It wasn''t there before, and we got by just fine, didn''t we?"


    Brett''s face darkened, "Izabe, do I need to remind you of what I told you at the hospital?"


    Izabe smiled faintly, bent down, picked up the wedding photo from the ground, and carefully


    ced it on the coffee table.


    As she recalled Brett''s words, Izabe etched them into her memory. He had instructed her to


    behave, and she wouldply. The weight of his dominance lingered in her mind, urging her to


    submit.


    The elderly man swiftly gathered the scrap items, packing them away. Meanwhile, Izabe grabbed


    a broom and started sweeping the floor, her body bending down. She was dressed in a loose-fitting


    T-shirt that revealed her prominent corbones.


    Her physical condition had not fully recovered, and the exertion took a toll on her body. Within a


    short period of time, her face became coated in a sheen of cold sweat, evidence of the strain she


    endured.