Since she recovered from her accident, all she had ever done was to cover all her tracks.
"Did you have investigated?" She playfully asked, knowing exactly from the smirk on his face that he did.
For years, she had saved up for the alteration of all her legal docunts, which was not easy or cheap. She had done her best to erase all traces of Alia and her past, hoping that the Morton family would never discover who she truly was.
"What else did you learn about ?" She asked, both eager and afraid. "I think it would save you the trouble if you just ask." Pretending that she didn’t care about what he discovered about her.
Still, Oliver was a powerful man with many connections. Sooner or later, she believed he would be able to catch up with her.
Hopefully, before that happened, she had set up her trap and taken Oliver and his father down with her.
"I believe a husband who wants a happy wife must learn to be attentive to his wife’s every need." He said endearingly, which quickly reminded her of the young Oliver.
"A boyfriend who wants to make her girlfriend very happy must always attend to her needs." Oliver once said to her when she asked why he was doing all those things for her.
That was the day she finally said yes to being his girlfriend.
But now, she suddenly realized that was just another one of his lines.
At any rate, "Okay, I’m impressed." She praised his effort, from the flowers, the candle scent, the al, and the wine. Besides, she still had to act as his wife. "Thanks for doing this all for ."
For the next two hours, they ate and shared a few stories about their childhood, agreeing that learning a few things about each other would help with their charade.
Although so of what she said was true, much of her supposed mories were lies based on the story that she had made to fit Sophia’s past.
But whether she believed all the words he had said about his past, she wouldn’t know. He was not exactly forthcoming about his family and childhood when they were still together.
Nevertheless, despite being labeled as ruthless, cold, and aloof, she still saw a glimpse of the Oliver she once knew and loved.
Admittedly, she still found him interesting and entertaining. She guessed he still had not lost any of his charms.
"So, tell what you fear the most." He asked casually, as his eyes studied her under the periter of his glass. "Let guess... Hmm... I think I got it... close space or the dark."
"Not exactly... Although I hate small and dark spaces, that is not my worst fear." She shook her head. "Actually, it’s rats." She confessed, just thinking about those small black critters always gave her the creeps.
"Well, I assure you, rats are more scared of you." Her husband comnted. "So, there is actually no reason to fear them."
"Really? Are you an expert in rats?" She asked, finding his arrogance amusing and irritating at the sa ti. "Okay, it’s my turn." She boldly said as she looked into his eyes.
"Give it your best shot." Oliver dared her, sitting comfortably in his chair with a relaxed stance. "I think..." She paused, acting as if she were thinking. "You’re afraid of your own shadow." Then, she laughed, a little too loudly.
"Am I now?" Clearly, her husband was also amused by her answer.
"Well, I think I’m tipsy." She admitted, feeling the effects of alcohol in her body as her vision slightly blurred.
"But seriously, I rember that you hated spiders. Rember how it freaked you out." She added without realizing what she just said. Then, she laughed again as mories of that day flashed before her eyes.
It was actually funny, rembering how her boyfriend shrieked like a girl in the bathroom when a spider crawled out of nowhere and dropped on his naked butt.
But the trip to mory lane abruptly stopped when she noticed the way he was looking at her. Then, like a bomb, sothing exploded in her head.
Damn it, Sophia!
Maybe it was the alcohol, loosening her tongue. It could be exhaustion and stress that caused her to be so careless.
But the cat was out of the bag.
What now? How could she extricate herself from this complicated situation without blowing up her entire cover?
"I... I... an..." Her words slightly slurred as alcohol hit her the wrong way.
Did he even realize her mistake?
Unfortunately, it appeared as if he did. His eyes abruptly changed from playful to predatory in a split second.
"Wait, Sophia!" He sounded bewildered as he stopped and stared. "How did you know that?" He asked with a look that said, "No one else knew about that, except..." Alia.
Panic made her freeze like a statue. But her mind was reeling for an answer.
Wide-eyed, she stared at him as if she could not understand him.
"How did you know that spiders freaked out?" He repeated his question. Now, her husband sounded as if he was ready to interrogate her.
His body leaned closer to the table. His elbows planted on the hard surface. His hands were entwined firmly in front of him.
"What? I an..." Well, her mind was not exactly cooperating at the mont as the alcohol impeded her rational thinking. "I... I..." She covered her face with her hands, pretending that the world around her was spinning.
Actually, it did.
Regardless, deep inside, she was in chaos. A total ltdown.
"Hey, who are you, Sophia?" Oliver asked again, but she had no answer.
What now? What should she do?
How would she get away from this situation?
Luckily, a light bulb suddenly lit in her head. It might not be the brightest idea, but at that mont, it was her only option.
"Am I talking too much?" She pretended that she was drunk as she leaned closer to the table and reached for his hand. "But you have been such a good husband, maybe I should do sothing to return the favor." She said cheerfully.
Actually, too eagerly that so of the patrons turned to see what the commotion was all about.
Without warning, she grabbed her arms and pulled them across the table. Then, she started kissing his fingers, just like the way he had kissed her hand earlier.
"Sophia, what are you doing?" Oliver asked, looking mildly concerned. "Are you really drunk?" His eyes were skeptical, as if he could see through her act.
But, of course, she would die before she let him catch her.
Therefore, she had to do sothing before he started asking questions she could not answer again.
"I... I think... I actually... am..." Then, to complete her performance, she dropped her head into his hands, pretending as if she had fainted and lost her balance.
"I didn’t know you were such a lightweight." He mumbled as he picked her up from her seat and carried her on his arms.
"Co on, Wifey. We’re going ho."
Why did it feel like it was exactly what she needed to hear before she eventually dozed off in his arms?
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