Chapter 209 Each Returns to Their Place
I suddenly stood up, tiptoeing slightly, and threw myself into Jerry's arms, wrapping my hands tightly around his waist.
"So enthusiastic today?" Jerry teased, rubbing the back of my head. "Have you thought it through?"
"I have." I replied, just as my gaze shifted to the doorway where Christopher stood, his face an impassive mask of icy detachment.
Before I could say anything, Christopher's well-defined fingers tapped lightly on the door. "Honey, it's time to go home."
Jerry gently patted my head and released me, ready to confront Christopher. "I'll handle this," he said, turning with resolve.
"Jerry Hammer," I called him back. He hesitated for a moment, his lean body stiffening before he responded, "What's up?"
Unable to meet his eyes, I tried to sound nonchalant. "He's here to pick me up."
Jerry’s expression twisted into something unrecognizable—a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What did you just say?"
"I've had my fun," I shrugged carelessly. "It's time for me to go back to being Mrs. Valence. Let's go our separate ways."
I mercilessly left Jerry behind, just as Christopher had once abandoned me in that basement.
Christopher’s arm slipped around my shoulders as he guided me away, the image of a devoted couple. As the elevator doors closed, I broke free from his hold and stepped back. "Christopher, I don't have to sleep with you in this one month, right?"
The words were bitter, but my tone was businesslike.
Christopher took out a disinfectant wipe and meticulously cleaned each of my fingers. "Of course not. It doesn't include that."
I looked at him as I continued, "I won't move to the manor, and I won't live with you either."
He laughed mockingly. "Guarding your body for him? Then as Mrs. Valence, what duties do you plan to fulfill?"
"Staying home like some dutiful wife?" I said flatly.
Christopher's face darkened, and as the elevator doors opened, he seized my wrist, almost dragging me to the waiting car. He questioned harshly, "Does being Mrs. Valence mean nothing to you anymore, Hope Royston?"
I moved away from him. "It means something."
Christopher's expression softened slightly, sensing hope, but I cut him off with quiet finality. "A shackle."
The dream I once cherished, the identity I once desperately clung to, now felt like chains, restricting me to the point where breathing became a struggle.
Christopher looked like he had been struck by lightning, stunned for a long while before he collected himself and instructed the driver, "Take us home."
I insisted, "I'm not going to the Valence Manor."
His voice was cold and stern. "You don't have a choice."
"Are you going to threaten me with Jerry?"
"You can think of it that way."
"Alright." I stared him down, provoking him further. "As long as you don't trouble him anymore, anything is fine!"
His veins bulged, and he sneered through gritted teeth. "Even sleeping with me?"
I smiled slightly and said softly, "Christopher. If you want to kill me, that's fine too."
His eyes instantly turned red, and he reached out to touch my head, but stopped mid-air when I flinched. Ignoring him, I turned to look out the window. The darkness outside was oppressive.
Scenes from upstairs replayed in my mind. Jerry had grabbed me, his fingertips cold and trembling. He asked me, "Is someone threatening you? Hope Royston, I'm warning you, you can do anything, but don't be stupid."
He wouldn't let go, his voice almost sobbing. "Hope, Hope."
"You're overthinking it, Jerry Hammer. I am his wife. Couples argue and then reconcile. You'll understand when you get married."
His eyes were intense, dark storms of emotion, but he still managed a twisted smile. "When I get married? Do you wish that for me?"
I smiled. "Yes, you're three years older than me. It's time to get married. When you do, Christopher and I will definitely prepare a wedding gift for you!"
For once, Christopher kept his word. A few days later, Carlos had left the Hammer Group headquarters. Although Alex was still in the hospital, Jerry’s life seemed to be slowly getting back on track. Securing several major projects with speed and precision, Jerry had reclaimed his title as the unpredictable and flamboyant whirlwind of the office.
Meanwhile, leveraging his connections, Christopher sought out a highly skilled doctor for Claire, desperate to find a remedy that would detoxify her completely.
That evening, as the company dinner concluded, Avery subtly lagged behind the other employees. Side-glancing at me, she asked cautiously, "Hope, have you ever had a thing for my brother?"
I knew this question came on behalf of Jerry, but Austin had pre-emptively warned me the day before. Flashing a placid smile, I replied, "No, never."
"What were you talking about?" Christopher's tall frame appeared abruptly, his voice cutting through the air. "Honey, I'm here to pick you up."
Lately, Christopher had been the epitome of the perfect husband, dutifully escorting me to and from work, undeterred by any weather. Yet once home at the Valence Manor, a barrier remained. I would retreat directly to the guest room, locking the door behind me.
In his attempts to win me over, Christopher left no stone unturned. But the effort felt futile—a mismatched timing that rendered everything redundant. Looking at him now was almost like staring into a mirror, reflecting my own past self back at me.
Christopher stood at the door, persistent. "Hope, open up. I warmed some milk to help you sleep. The maid mentioned you were restless last night."
I knew his perseverance: if I didn't open the door, the knocking wouldn't cease. If I refrained from eating, he wouldn't let me leave the dining table. He misunderstood my nausea for sulking, but the food truly made me sick.
Relenting, I opened the door, took the cup, and drank the milk in one gulp before thrusting the empty cup back at him. "Is that enough?"
Locking myself back in, I dashed to the bathroom, purging everything I'd just consumed. Afterward, I emerged, marking off another day on my calendar—only seven days remained. In seven days, freedom awaited; no one could control me.
My efficiency soared as time went by. Five days later, Keith and I devoted ourselves to the office, finalizing the summer design drafts. Around noon, fatigue set in, and I headed to the break room for coffee. My hand slipped, and the cup shattered, spilling scalding coffee on my foot. Anxiety flooded through me, a deep unease I couldn't shake.
Later, Elissa walked into my office in a fluster. "Hope, are you okay?"
I blinked up at her, puzzled. "What's wrong?"
Catching her breath, Elissa smoothly picked up my phone. "My phone died. Can I use yours to play games?"
"You don't have a charger? I can lend you mine." I offered.
She declined quickly, shaking her head. "No need, it's charging. But it gets too hot if I play while it's plugged in."
Knowing Elissa's penchant for gaming, I didn't think much of it and returned to work. "Alright."
Elissa perched on my desk, her voice casual. "Have you been for a follow-up at the hospital? Feeling any better after taking the meds?"
I didn't look up. "Much better."
Elissa continued, "You've been glued to your drafts non-stop. Take a break now and then, maybe look at something green. Play with your phone less, or you'll end up needing a guide dog."
Sensing an underlying worry in her tone, I lifted my gaze. "Elissa, are you hiding something from me?"
She shook her head vigorously. "No."
Suspicious, I extended my hand. "Give me my phone."
"I'm just in the middle of a game!"
Snatching my phone back, I sifted through it but found nothing out of the ordinary. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, "Did you delete something?"
Her denial was swift. "No."
Just then, a commotion erupted from the open office area. "Avery, slow down!"
I sprang up so quickly I twisted my ankle, but adrenaline masked the pain as I rushed out. "What's wrong with Avery?"
"I don't know, she just said something and took off."
"It seems like something happened to her brother."
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