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“You don’t know, do you? Eight years ago, we were together. You have no idea how incredible he was. He held me close and told me you were nothing but a dull, old–fashioned bore.”
“His kissing skills were unforgettable, but since that night, he hasn’t kissed you once. In his eyes, you could never compare to me.”
12:26 PM ch
Hunning Away from Maniago, Laring Decration and
Scarlett painted a vivid picture of everything that had happened between her and Ambrose, her words sharp, each one calculated.
The things Hazel had always dreamed of, simple, everyday moments, were nothing more than trivialities to
Scarlett
While Ambrose was usually composed, distant, and aloof around others, with Scarlett, he showed a side of himself that was free–spirited and wild.
He couldn’t even make time to take Hazel to the hospital when she was feverish, but he had no hesitation in
carrying Scarlett, rushing through three streets with her when she’d twisted her ankle.
Ambrose had never found time to take Hazel on their honeymoon.
Yet, during their toughest moments, he had used their shared savings to whisk Scarlett away on a trip.
“So now, do you get it? It wasn’t a matter of time. He just didn’t love you enough.”
“Stop deceiving yourself. In his heart, there’s always only been me.”
Tears slid down Scarlett’s cheeks.
It wasn’t the soft, fragile sobs of someone caught in the rain. No, these were the tears of someone who had bottled everything inside for far too long, finally letting it pour out.
Hazel couldn’t comprehend the reason behind Scarlett’s tears. She hadn’t spoken a word, hadn’t done a thing to provoke such an outburst.
“You’re right,” Hazel muttered, her voice steady but indifferent.
She wasn’t going to waste another second on this. She had a swimming session waiting for her.
As for who Ambrose truly loved, it no longer mattered.
Hazel had figured that out the moment she’d said goodbye to him.
The “white moonlight” and “red rose” were nothing more than illusions driven by pure desire.
In the end, the one Ambrose truly loved was himself.
He wanted the perfect wife, one who would adore him and care for him.
And yet, he also craved a passionate lover to ignite his desires and keep the fire burning.
But Ambrose, who prided himself on being a man of integrity, couldn’t summon the courage to face the truth lurking within him.
Instead, he cloaked his desires in illusions, casting Scarlett as the unattainable “white moonlight”
Through this rose–tinted lens, every sordid act transformed into something that resembled pure love.
Hazel, having known Ambrose for over two decades, saw right through him. She always had.
Love had blinded her before, but now, clarity stripped him of the facade he once wore
Her calm, indifferent demeanor ignited Scarlett’s fury.
Scarlett couldn’t stomach being dismissed so easily
She had steeled herself for a battle, ready to clash, until one of them was left standing. How could she allo
Hazel to walk away as if none of it mattered?
That simmering rage snapped her restraint in an instant
As Hazel approached the curb, Scarlett charged forward and shoved her toward the oncoming car.
“Hazel”
Out of nowhere, Ambrose bolted toward them, yanking Hazel into his arms just as disaster loomed.
The impact drove his back into a fire hydrant with a sickening force.
The entire scene unfolded in the blink of an eye, too sudden for Hazel to process.
12.26 PM
Running Away from Marriage, Leasing Deception Behind
She struggled to steady her breathing, her anger simmering beneath the surface as she prepared to demand. accountability.
But before she could act, Ambrose struck Scarlett across the face with a resounding slap
“Scarlett, who gave you the right to hurt Hazel?”
Ambrose’s hand shot out, gripping Scarlett’s neck with alarming force. His eyes burned with a fury that sent a
chill through the air, laced with an unmistakable threat.
Hazel, noticing the gathering crowd and fearing someone might call the police, quickly stepped forward. She grabbed Ambrose’s arm, pulling him away with a firm resolve
“I don’t care what kind of mess you two have created. But leave me out of it. I don’t have time to waste on your
drama.”
Scarlett’s face flushed crimson, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.
Despite her trembling frame, she attempted to mask her fear, painting an expression of wounded innocence as if
she were the true victim.
