He would suffer for the rest of his life because of this.
"If sothing like this happens again, don’t keep it to yourself. Aren’t you afraid I’ll really give up and find another woman?"
During that ti, he did have such thoughts.
So, he kept changing female companions, trying to forget her that way.
For that month, he indeed thought of her very little.
He thought forgetting her wasn’t hard until he saw her again in C City.
This result was completely different from what Scarlett Yates had anticipated.
Matthew Saxon actually said he never hated her mother.
So, had she been wrong from the start?
So, she was the one who brought so much pain and trouble upon herself.
Scarlett Yates felt utterly ashad, guilty for her own presumption.
"I’m sorry," she mumbled like a mosquito, her eyes drooped, her face burning.
"Do you realize your mistake?"
Her voice grew even smaller: "Yeah."
"Once you recognize your mistake, you must correct it."
"Yeah."
"Will you do this again?"
Scarlett Yates shook her head.
"Will you discuss everything with from now on?"
"Yeah."
"Do you still love Maxwell Saxon?"
She hesitated, her face growing even hotter. She wished she could dig a hole and crawl in.
"That night..." Matthew Saxon frowned, recalling what he saw that night. His brows furrowed deeply, "You were in his apartnt until midnight. Why were you there so late?"
Even though the misunderstanding was cleared, to say he wasn’t bothered at all by so things from before wouldn’t be true.
She and Maxwell Saxon were alone together most of the night, even if nothing happened, it made him uncomfortable.
Scarlett Yates was montarily stunned, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes: "How did you know..."
Matthew Saxon let out a cold snort, full of emotion he couldn’t vent, and feeling stifled. Seeing the culprit still looking at her innocently, he couldn’t help but tap her forehead: "A stupid woman like you, if not kept close, would be sold and wouldn’t even know."
"Ouch, that hurts." Scarlett Yates covered her forehead, which was turning red from his tap, her eyes starting to well up.
He knew she didn’t leave until after midnight.
So, had he been waiting for her downstairs at Maxwell Saxon’s place?
Suddenly, Scarlett Yates rembered sothing. That night, she glimpsed a car drive away just as she and Maxwell Saxon exited the front door.
At the ti, she wondered if it could be his car, but quickly dismissed the idea.
Now it seed, that car was indeed his.
He had been waiting downstairs for such a long ti.
Seeing her eyes redden, Matthew Saxon thought he had been too harsh. He furrowed his brow, gently massaging the spot with his fingers: "So delicate, just a light tap or two and you’re about to cry?"
His touch was gentle.
His fingertip pressed softly, and though he complained about her being delicate, his gaze was tender and intoxicating.
Whether it was his strong touch or his deeply captivating eyes, Scarlett Yates truly felt a bit dizzy.
She mused, how could a man’s eyes be so beautiful?
She spoke in a daze: "I drank too much and fell asleep. After waking up and having a al, I left."
"You even had a al?" Matthew Saxon’s expression didn’t soften with her explanation, his brows still tightly furrowed: "Who cooked?"
Scarlett Yates hesitated for a mont, rembering she promised not to hide anything from him in the future, so she answered honestly: "Maxwell Saxon cooked."
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