This feeling of discomfort lasted so long that she beca numb to it... Returning to bed, she lay on her side, browsing through her phone’s Weibo, looking at old private photos, diverting her thoughts to alleviate the pain.
They were all pictures with Justin Kingston, mostly due to work, alongside quite a number of group photos.
Photos from their teenage years looked more intimate, most taken at ho, not too formal, whether during festivals or birthdays, Kristina Kingston was also present... There was a touch of familial warmth.
One by one, she flipped through them, mories flooding in like the tide... Her nose tingled, and her eyes grew moist.
Comparing these photos, Justin Kingston was handso from childhood to adulthood, with an innate cool aura, a high, proud nose bridge carrying a hint of arrogance.
Facing the sunlight silently, he appeared extrely gentle.
Monica Usher loved Justin Kingston, loved him in every state.
When those photos were taken, Mia Lane hadn’t appeared yet, and her interactions with Justin Kingston were not few, though mostly discussing work matters.
Sotis she even traveled with him for work, stayed at the sa hotel, standing on the sa communal terrace at night, facing the wind, gazing at the stars.
Those tis were incredibly beautiful, but unfortunately, they could never return.
The photos in the album gradually blurred, tears rolling down the corners of her eyes, Monica Usher’s eyes glowed with hatred as she clenched her phone, "Mia Lane, I hate you!"
"Why did you have to appear?"
"You usurper!"
"May you et a miserable end! Your child too will et a miserable end!!"
She cursed gnashing her teeth, venting her anger!
She wished she could tear Mia Lane apart with her own hands!
She felt that Mia Lane had stolen everything that was originally hers, thus leading to her current misfortune.
Around three or four in the morning, in the master bedroom of the Hale Villa.
On the large, soft bed, Dennis Hale was sweating faintly, his body inexplicably struggling!
He startled his wife beside him, "Old Anderson, Old Anderson? What’s wrong with you?" Paige propped herself up, shaking his shoulder under the light of the night lamp.
"Old Anderson, are you uncomfortable? Are you dreaming?"
Dennis Hale’s lips trembled, he suddenly sat up with a start! His eyes widened, gasping for breath.
"Old Anderson..." His wife softly called, asking with concern, "Did you have a dream?"
He slowly turned his gaze and only ca to his senses when he saw his wife by his side, "..." He dreamt he was arrested, and in prison, he was not treated well, scorned by thousands of people.
He also dreamt that the woman before him couldn’t bear the harassnt and pressure from the dia and public opinion, and jumped off a building...
"Paige." Dennis Hale hugged her tightly, "You have to be okay."
The inexplicable words from his mouth made Paige’s heart race nervously, "What’s wrong? Has sothing happened?"
But he held her tightly, not letting her see his face, not letting her observe his expression.
After a while, Dennis Hale steadied his mind, held her shoulders, and gently pushed her away, "It’s nothing, sleep, lately the work pressure is high, causing ntal stress."
After speaking, he pulled the blanket over himself and lay down; the scenes from the dream still lingered in his mind...
Paige was worried but couldn’t help with work matters.
Leaning against him gently, she massaged his shoulders, attempting to relieve his fatigue with a massage.
"It’s okay, go to sleep." Dennis Hale felt sorry for her; the image of her leaping from the rooftop, her body shattered, surfaced before his eyes.
Making it difficult for him to fall asleep for a long ti.
"Honey, if one day..." Dennis Hale wanted to tell her sothing more, wished for her to be strong, the wedding was approaching, but suddenly found himself unable to speak.
"What is it?" Paige perked her ears up, inexplicably tense, "Old Anderson, did sothing happen?"
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