My Rival: The Twenty-Year-Old Me - Chapter 23
Her complexion was far from what it used to be, tired and somewhat gaunt.
She glanced at me, “You’re doing better now that you’re not taking care of the child.”
Alexander hurriedly asked his mother to leave.
He pulled Theodore over and said, “Theodore, do you remember this house? You were born here, and we moved when you were three.”
“Look, there’s still a record of your height on the wall…”
Theodore and I watched Alexander move around the room, excitedly talking to himself.
He crouched down and earnestly said, “Theodore, your mother is going abroad.”
“Don’t you miss her? Would you ask her to stay?”
Under Alexander Vance’s eager gaze, Theodore shook his head.
“I don’t miss her.”
The room fell silent.
“What did you say?!” Alexander Vance was furious.
“Bang!” A muffled sound.
A slap landed on Theodore’s back, his small body swayed.
Yet he stubbornly bit his lip, saying nothing.
I calmly watched Alexander Vance, just as he had once watched me in my postpartum hysteria.
“Alexander Vance, how did you become like this?” I said lightly, “Does saying such things matter so much?”
Suddenly, he froze.
The shot he fired at me years ago hit him squarely in the forehead.
His figure wavered, and he gently closed his eyes, as if trying to shield himself from his past indifference and today’s helplessness.
With a slightly bent back, he turned and left, dejected.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Eleanor.”
Alexander Vance, such a proud man, was utterly humiliated.
