Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted Chapter 95: Zoe, Shall We Do It Tonight?

Timothy Xavier’s stern face showed a trace of astonishnt, and then there was a hint of displeasure in his expression.

I could tell he was holding back.

Maybe he rembered those days when he ignored , rembered all the gifts I gave him that he never cherished.

So he felt guilty and had no right to be angry with .

After a long while, he faintly said, "Don’t dispose of my things so casually in the future. Since you’ve given it to , it’s mine."

"Okay."

I was indifferent, just agreeing without any real intention, very perfunctory.

But I didn’t expect him to continue, "Knit another scarf, please. This ti, I promise to take good care of it."

I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to make such a shaless request.

"I’ve forgotten how to knit. I haven’t done it for years."

Though I spoke gently, my refusal was obvious.

Timothy, being the proud man he always was, thought I would go along with his suggestion earlier, but I didn’t.

So he didn’t bring it up again.

I said coolly, "If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my room."

He stopped , his tone low, "Zoe, how much longer do you need?"

I was slightly taken aback, looking at him.

Timothy said, "Let be clearer then, how long until we can be like we used to be?"

Like before?

To be like a parasitic plant clinging to him, only to be manipulated and deceived?

Seeing silent, he gently pressed his hands on my shoulders, saying, "Zoe, I know you’re still angry. Once you figure it out, let it go, can we be like before? I still like the original Zoe Ellison."

I looked into his deep, dark eyes, wondering how I could make him understand that the original Zoe Ellison wouldn’t co back.

"Alright."

I agreed insincerely, as perfunctory as he used to be with .

...

I thought that if I muddled through tonight, everything would be fine.

But in the days following, he consistently asked , more or less deliberately, to do things for him.

He seed to enjoy the feeling of loving him unreservedly, no matter his attitude, just like before.

After dinner that day, Timothy led to the wardrobe and requested, as he had countless tis before, "Iron this suit for , I need it for tomorrow, okay?"

Naturally, I didn’t want to do it. Ever since discovering his infidelity, I hadn’t wanted to do any of the things expected of a wife.

I politely refused, "I have to work overti tonight, let the servant handle it."

Just as I was about to leave, he grabbed , his voice cold, "If you’re going to start anew, you should act like a wife, not be as cold as before."

I really wanted to hold up a mirror to him and let him see himself!

But since my brother’s bail procedure wasn’t completed yet, I couldn’t risk angering him.

So, I silently took his clothes and went to the wardrobe.

I chanically repeated the ironing motion, my mind repeatedly playing the scene of Julian Sinclair’s gaze on at the golf course.

That gaze held mockery, amusent, and a complexity I couldn’t understand.

It was unclear how much ti had passed before I suddenly heard footsteps behind .

Before I could turn around, Timothy’s arms encircled my waist from behind, carrying a familiar, yet repelled scent.

His chin rested in the crook of my neck, his breath brushing against my skin with a scorching heat, "Zoe, how about we try tonight? We can’t keep being cold to each other, can we?"

His words made my whole body tense; I quickly turned my head to avoid him.

His lips brushed my earlobe, and in shock, I elbowed him hard.

The man imrsed in desire was caught off guard and almost lost his balance.

The air instantly froze.

Timothy’s face darkened, and he asked coldly, "Do you really reject that much? How much more ti do you need?"

Clenching the iron’s handle, my knuckles turning white, how was I supposed to keep him restrained?

At that mont, a servant knocked on the door from the outside, "Sir, Miss Sawyer has arrived with Miss Doris."

Hearing the servant’s announcent, Timothy’s attention was finally diverted.

And I, upon hearing that Doris had arrived, was also filled with excitent.

I followed Timothy downstairs.

As soon as we reached the living room, Doris ran over and threw herself into Timothy’s arms, "Daddy, I missed you!"

Timothy picked up his daughter, gently saying, "Daddy missed you too, Doris."

The little girl’s bright eyes were filled with confusion, "Then why did Daddy send to Grandma’s house? Can’t we live together like before, with Mommy and ? And..."

Her gaze shifted to , carrying a timid vigilance, "Why is Auntie Ellison back again?"

Timothy’s eyes darkened a bit, as though contemplating sothing.

Then, patiently, he explained to his daughter, "Auntie Ellison is Daddy’s wife, so she will always stay here. When you grow up, you’ll understand."

"Ah?" Doris’s eyes widened in confusion, "But isn’t Daddy’s wife Mommy? How can it be Auntie Ellison?"

A hint of helplessness flashed across Timothy’s face, evidently at a loss for words, and he could only repeat, "You’ll understand when you’re older."

This was probably the bitter fruit he had sown, which he now had to endure with gritted teeth.

Not even able to explain the reason.

But Doris was relentless, persisting, "Daddy, are you going to divorce Mommy and abandon us?"

Her voice carried a sob, "That’s what happened to Hannah Morgan’s parents in our class; they don’t live together anymore. Hannah cries every day, saying her dad has soone else and doesn’t want her anymore..."

Those words pierced my heart like a needle, causing a sharp pain.

I didn’t know if Doris thought of this herself or if Serena taught her.

But Timothy’s expression instantly turned rather unpleasant.

He took a deep breath, patiently reassuring her, "No matter what happens between Mommy and Daddy, Daddy will always love you, Doris. I won’t abandon you."

But standing beside them, my heart felt clogged, like a ball of cotton had been stuffed inside.

Since childhood, Doris had been instilled with the belief that Serena was her mother, instead regarding as the one who wrecked their family.

A surge of unspeakable bitterness rose within .

Timothy remained vigilant, unwilling to let interact with Doris.

Therefore, after coaxing Doris for a while, he said, "Doris, go back with Mommy first. Daddy will co visit you when he has ti, okay?"

But Doris’ little face was full of stubbornness, and no matter how much Timothy coaxed, she refused to budge.

"I want to stay with Daddy! Why can Auntie Ellison stay, and not Mommy and ?"

She raised her chin, her eyes shining with a defiance uncharacteristic of her age.

Timothy rubbed his temples, ultimately giving in.

He bent down to pinch his daughter’s cheek, "Alright, if Doris wants to stay, then stay."

Doris smiled instantly.

Just as she was about to jump into her father’s arms, Serena also took a half step forward, her eyes filled with anticipation.

Timothy acted as if he hadn’t seen anything, and said blandly, "Let Doris stay here with for a few days, you should head back first."

Serena’s expression instantly froze.

The next second, her eyes reddened, she bent down to hold Doris’s hand, her voice choked, "Doris, be good, listen to your father, mommy... mommy will co see you in a few days."

After she spoke, she walked out quickly with tears streaming down her face, even her retreating figure seed filled with grievance.

"Daddy! Look, you made mommy cry!"

Doris imdiately withdrew her hand from Timothy’s, her small face filled with resentnt, "Why won’t you let mommy stay?"

Timothy patiently explained, "Mommy has to work, she’s busy, it’s not convenient for her to stay here."

Doris suddenly raised her head, her gaze cold and startling, "Just like before, in our class, Hannah Morgan’s dad did the sa, he wouldn’t let her mom stay ho, but brought a vixen back! Daddy, Auntie Ellison is a vixen, right!"

I was so shocked by Doris’s words that I almost couldn’t stand steady.

"Doris!"

Timothy’s voice suddenly rose, reprimanding, "Who taught you to say such things? What vixen, who is a vixen!"

He had never been so harsh with Doris, the little girl was scared to a slight tremble, her eyes instantly reddened, lips quivering, not daring to say another word.

The little girl sobbed quietly, yet looked at with hatred.

Timothy took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and said deeply, "Go and stand in the Buddha Hall, reflect on what you just said."

Doris bit her lip, looked back repeatedly, and walked towards the Buddha Hall.

But her gaze really was terrifying, like Timothy’s, yet also like Serena’s.

So cold, so gloomy.

My heart felt as if it was being clenched by a large hand, even a shallow breath felt painful.

After Doris left, Timothy sighed and said, "Don’t take what Doris said to heart, she’s still a child, she doesn’t understand anything."

I sniffed, my throat tight, "Yes, what can a child understand? Whatever adults teach, she learns."

Timothy’s eyebrows imdiately furrowed, his tone carrying so displeasure, "Are you implying that Serena taught Doris this?"

I raised my eyes to look at him, and asked, "If not her, then was it you?"

"There you go again, being unreasonable!"

Timothy said, "How could I ever teach her such things? And certainly, Serena wouldn’t either. Didn’t Doris say just now, it was what a kindergarten friend said."

He was defending Serena both openly and covertly, without a hint of suspicion towards her.

And every ti sothing happened, I was the first person he suspected, I only felt a profound sense of helplessness sweeping over .

I’m tired, truly too tired!

I sighed wearily, didn’t even want to say another word, and turned to head towards the guest room.

It was clearly late at night, yet I was not sleepy at all.

Doris’s words kept echoing in my mind, along with the way she looked at .

The dull ache in my heart turned into a sharp pain, spreading densely.

I even began to wonder, could Timothy not be lying to ?

Perhaps Doris really isn’t my daughter, and it’s just my wishful thinking, that my child didn’t die, so I stubbornly believe Doris is that child.

...

After a restless night, I woke up at dawn.

My head hurts, feeling dizzy.

The dication prescribed by the psychologist before already ran out, I hadn’t experienced insomnia or headaches for a long ti.

But now, that familiar and terrifying feeling has returned.

I took a half-day off and went to see my previous psychologist in the morning.

The doctor saw the last consultation ti in the computer records, and deeply frowned, "Why haven’t you co back for a check-up for so long?"

"I’ve been taking the dication you prescribed, it felt much better. Plus, there were too many things going on recently, so I forgot..."

After I finished, the psychologist gravely said, "The worst way to handle psychological depression is like you’re doing, being inconsistent. dication only provides temporary relief, only through regular psychological counseling, can it be cured. You are still so young, if the depression continues to develop, the consequences will be much more severe than you imagine."

Eventually, I decided to resu psychological therapy.

I sat on the sofa, and the doctor sat opposite .

"Let’s talk about what has been troubling you the most recently."

I shared the recent happenings with the doctor, mainly about Doris.

Unexpectedly, after the doctor listened, he suddenly smiled, and the grave expression relaxed quite a lot.

He nodded and said, "Ms. Ellison, you’ve made great progress this ti."

I was taken aback and incredulously asked, "Progress? I don’t understand..."

"You’re not entangled with your relationship with your husband anymore," the doctor said calmly, "Previously, you always asked ’Why doesn’t he believe ?’ ’When did he change his heart?’ But just now, you only talked about your relationship with your daughter. At least, you’ve let go of this marriage."

I cautiously asked, "In this situation, would it be easier to treat than before?"

The doctor patiently helped analyze, "You’re only facing two possible answers. Either Doris is your biological daughter, then, with her uncertain nature now, even if she temporarily holds prejudice against you, there are ways to gradually change it. She’s a child, not a stone, as long as you devote effort, there will always be a response. Or she’s not your biological child, then it’s simpler! You wouldn’t even need to concern yourself with the ’mother-daughter’ bond, and instead, you’ll see more clearly whether this marriage is worth keeping."

He paused, then added, "You’re worrying too early. You haven’t even confird if she’s your daughter, yet you’ve already drove yourself into headaches and insomnia— is it worth it? What if she’s not, all these days of sorrow would have been for nothing?"

The doctor’s words gave a sense of enlightennt.

Even though I know I still face many problems, I need to take it step by step, and I can’t let myself get lost.

After taking the dication and exiting the clinic, the sky was bright and clear, even my steps felt lighter.

I returned to the news agency, handled so of the news drafts at hand, and got busy until dusk.

At this mont, my phone rang, it was Madam Sinclair calling.

I imdiately answered, and the old lady said she missed , inviting for dinner tonight.

The old lady complained, "Recently, Julian’s mother hasn’t been well, and tonight he’s going to the Kendall Family again. I’m all alone, everything tastes dull."

Hearing that Julian Sinclair wouldn’t be present tonight, I agreed to Madam Sinclair’s invitation.

Since the last ti at the golf course, for so reason, I’ve been quite afraid to see Julian Sinclair.

...

When I arrived at The Sinclair Family estate, the maid had just laid the food on the table.

Inside, the house was perpetually spring-like, the greenery nurtured by Madam Sinclair was thriving.

Seeing the tip of my nose red from the cold, Madam Sinclair beckoned in, "Co in quickly! It’s cold outside, even though it hasn’t snowed yet, the weather can really freeze a person to death."

I smiled and said, "It’s okay, I drive to and from work, so I’m not outside much."

Just as I sat down, the sound of a car engine ca from outside.

Madam Sinclair was stunned, puzzled, "That’s odd, Julian said he was going to the Kendall Family tonight, why is he back?"

I stood up quickly, feeling a bit tense.

Within minutes, Julian Sinclair ca in.

When he saw , he slightly paused, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Then he turned to Madam Sinclair, usually so filial, his tone today held a hint of reprimand, "Grandma, what exactly did you say to my mom? Could you please stop randomly pairing people up in the future?"

Madam Sinclair also got angry and said, "You’re going to be thirty-five after this year, shouldn’t your major life decisions be settled? I think Zoe is a nice girl, so I sent her photo to your mother, ntioned on the phone wanting to discuss your marriage with her. But before I finished, she hung up on . Is that the attitude to show towards an elder?"

I was stunned right away.

Julian Sinclair’s mother is none other than Timothy Xavier’s grandmother!

Madam Sinclair was actually trying to match and Julian Sinclair in front of Timothy Xavier’s grandmother!