Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Rosemary was left utterly gobsmacked when she got yelled at and couldn't snap back to reality for a moment. She glanced at Pearl, who was staring at her from the hospital bed, and then turned to walk outside the ward.

"What are you on about?"

What was with this “pulling his leg” business?

Maxwell's voice was low and grave, “Where are you now?”

“At the hospital.”

She was about to say his mom was sick, but the man cut her off unceremoniously, “Rosemary, if you're gonna make excuses, at least make them believable. Just yesterday, you couldn't wait to get a divorce, and now what? What kind of monumental illness has you so weak you can’t even get out of bed? Or is this whole drama not really about the divorce, but just you playing hard to get?”

Rosemary knew she wasn't exactly the apple of Maxwell's eye, but she hadn't expected to be this low in his estimation. He didn't even have the patience to let her finish her sentence before he brutally passed judgment on her.

Taking a deep breath to suppress the heartache bubbling up inside, she said, “It's not me; it's Pearl. She's got a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit and was just rushed to the hospital.”

The man on the other end of the phone suddenly fell silent.

“You didn't know, did you?” Now it was Rosemary's turn to sneer, “Your mom's sick, and the maid only remembered to call me but never thought to inform you. In the past three years, do you have any idea how many times I’ve covered filial duties for you?”

The irony of it all was that one time, while she was at work, she got a call from Wendy saying Pearl had gone into shock. At that moment, Maxwell was giving her a hard time, and the HR department, trying to curry favor with him, was kicking her while she was down by refusing her leave. In her urgency, she just skipped work.

Later, without any regard for the facts, Maxwell reprimanded her in front of everyone, “If you can’t handle the heat, go back to being daddy’s little princess. The Templeton Group doesn’t take in trash!”

She was foolish, keeping silent to save his face, never defending herself. To this day, Rosemary remembered the contempt and disdain in the eyes of her colleagues.

Time seemed to stand still, and after who knew how long, Maxwell's indifferent voice came through, “Next time something like this happens, call me.”

Rosemary didn’t detect any softening in his tone, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have dwelt on it - she had been down the road of wishful thinking too many times.

She didn’t respond, just hung up the phone, and loitered in the hallway for a good while before going back in, not wanting Pearl to sense anything was off.

Maxwell arrived swiftly. Rosemary glanced at Pearl, now asleep on the hospital bed, looking so frail as if half her life was slipping away with each illness.

“I need to talk to you.” NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

Maxwell thought she was going to bring up the divorce again and frowned in irritation, “Whatever it is, we can talk later. Mom's this sick; I don't have time for your games.”

He still thought she was just playing games with him? Rosemary turned to say something but then her eyes landed on a red mark on the man’s neck.

That spot. She couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh; so blatant, still not divorced and already not bothering to cover up his tracks!

She said, “Should I just say it here then?”

Maxwell shot her a fierce glare and stormed out of the ward.

In the hallway, with her hands in her pockets, she faced the stark white wall, “The doctor wants her to have a thorough check-up.”

Maxwell frowned, “What's going on?”

“I don’t know; the doctor said they have to wait for the test results to know for sure.”

After finishing, she glanced at her wrist for the time, “Pearl just fell asleep, and won't wake up for a while. We can have the nurse watch her. There’s still a bit more than an hour before City Hall closes for lunch; we can still make it.”

As Maxwell heard this, his gaze darkened. Ever since Rosemary had been harping on about the divorce, her attitude towards him had turned cold and prickly, lighting a fire in him that he couldn't vent or swallow, making everything irksome.

“Mom's this ill, and you're still thinking about the divorce? Rosemary, don’t you have conscience?”

Her conscience? It was ground away by his repeated indifference and distance.

“If that's what you think, then no.”

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed with irritation at her nonchalant attitude, and he couldn’t help but recall the last time she bought that men's bag right in front of him.

He thought Rosemary had bought it on a whim just to spite him and that it would end up sending back to him after a few days.

It wasn't the first time she'd done something like that, buying stuff that would make him jealous under the pretense of gifting it to someone else, but in the end, it would just sit in the closet at home.

But at a party last night, he saw a man with that bag. Initially thinking it was just the same model, but luxury bags each have a unique serial number. For some reason, he took a closer look. It was the same one that Rosemary had purchased.

“You're in such a hurry to get rid of me, eyeing a better prey? That bag you bought last time, was it for him? What do you see in that old and ugly guy, huh?”

Rosemary couldn’t fathom what Maxwell was rambling about, but her patience worn thin, she frowned, “Are you done or what? Don’t you get tired of talking so much?”

“Heh.” He scoffed coldly, “We'll talk about the divorce later. Mom’s still on IV and needs care.”

Now Rosemary was not having it, sensing that waiting could only lead to more complications.

“The nurse can look after her for a bit. It won't take too much of your time.”

Maxwell’s expression grew even stormier, his eyes casting a shadow, “I said, let's schedule another time.”

Rosemary didn’t catch his implication, and after a moment’s thought, she asked, “How about this afternoon?”

She had already taken the day off and didn't mind an extra half-day.

Pearl's IV wasn’t much, it should be done by noon, and City Hall was open until 5:30 pm, so there was still time today.

But as soon as her words fell, Maxwell suddenly grabbed her jaw, his voice rough and menacing by her ear, “Men can't stand to be provoked. The more you rush, the less I feel like giving you what you want.”

His words were laced with a warning, nasty as could be.

“Maxwell, it's not men who think like that; it's beasts,” Rosemary shot back without a hint of politeness and slapped his hand away, turning to leave.

Watching her disappear into the elevator, Maxwell was irritated, so irritated he felt like smoking. After standing there for a while, he turned and walked into the ward, only to be greeted by a pillow thrown at him smack in the gut!

Pearl was glaring at him with a disappointed look, "Can't even sweet-talk your own wife; where the heck did you crawl out from, a trash can? We're in a hospital, for crying out loud. Go get a paternity test done ASAP. There's no way your dad and I could produce a piece of work like you!"

"You just slept with her last night, and today she's talking divorce. Spill the beans, are you hitting a snag 'cause you're getting on in years or what?!"

Hearing this, Maxwell's eyes turned frosty, his voice dropping a few notches, "Rosemary told you we slept together last night? That we're getting a divorce?"

That woman, making a fuss about wanting a divorce on one hand and snitching behind his back on the other, knowing full well that Pearl would never stand for them splitting up. He really underestimated her!