Chapter 617 The Everlasting Mrs. Windsor
But Natalie hadn't expected Leonard to be the type to slap a woman, especially one he was engaged to.
Torn between anger and laughter, Oliver asked, "What if you hadn't noticed these things just now?"
Oliver squinted, the threat in his gaze palpable. It seemed as if Natalie's nod or 'yes' would provoke him to teach her a lesson.
Natalie dared not nod, and though the urge to laugh was there, she kept it in, opting instead to push gently against his chest.
"Oliver, I need to ask you something," she redirected swiftly.
"Shoot."
"So...if we're still not divorced, why did you tell people we were?"
Oliver's expression darkened. Recalling his own hasty suspicion that Natalie had spilled the beans, he found himself speechless and deflated.
"I didn't."
"Not you? Then who?" Natalie was incredulous.
Who else but the two of them knew about the divorce? Especially the detailed agreement, handled at Rosewood Estate—information that should have been closely held.
Oliver didn't bring Susan into this, not wanting to drag Natalie down any further.
Leaning against a shoe cabinet, he fixed Natalie with a laid-back yet determined gaze. "Natalie, all you need to know is, I wasn't the one who leaked it. And I had no such intention. To me, you've always been, and always will be, Mrs. Windsor."
The statement was both forceful and gentle, incredibly captivating.
Natalie blinked, looking down, her thick lashes veiling the confused sparkle in her eyes.
She was like a child wrestling with a conundrum, weighing all the factors but hitting a dead end.
"So... what's your plan now?" she asked, not looking up.
Oliver's stance was firm as he broke the silence, “I thought I made myself clear, Natalie.”
She'd moved out, and yet he had sought her out multiple times. Never once had he mentioned the expired divorce agreement, nor had he processed the divorce papers. And there he was, at the event, ingeniously finding ways to share a bed with her...
If his every action and gesture weren't out of love for her, if he didn't still see her as his wife for life, then what else could it mean?
"Oliver, do you really want to become the laughingstock of the nation?" Natalie asked. "Everyone knows we're divorced, and I…"
And I’m left with nothing, no success to speak of, my once radiant glow and glory have faded away.
Now, I stand at rock bottom, a mere shadow basked in the dying light of the sun.
"Mrs. Windsor, what happens now between us depends on your attitude, not mine." Oliver didn't understand Natalie's concerns. A laughingstock? That only mattered if one cared about such things.
Oliver was genuinely puzzled. "Natalie, didn't you use to not care about what others thought?"
Her strength and resilience had always stemmed from her independence and confidence, unaffected by the outside world. But why had that changed now?
Natalie looked up at Oliver, his gaze steady and powerful, exuding a gentleness rarely seen when he faced others.
Immediately, she averted her eyes to the window, frightened that one more look would betray her—the mockery directed at her was irrelevant, but she did care about the scorn aimed at Oliver.
"Can you give me some time? I—I just need to think it through."
"What's there to think about?" Oliver grew impatient, wishing he could convince Natalie on the spot.
With a resigned sigh, Oliver conceded, his voice edged with frustration, “Fine, think.”
No matter what, he would only accept the answer he desired.
All Natalie needed was to sort through the recent events. If conflicts and concerns remained unresolved, they would linger forever, silently hidden in some corner, and no one could guarantee they wouldn't become the straw that broke the camel's back in the future.
That night, while many of the summer camp members were submerged in the fervor of gossip,
Others pondered, like Natalie.
Some were waiting, like Oliver.
And for others, like Susan, each day dragged on endlessly.
Leonard didn't bother returning to the hotel that night. He had plenty of spots to crash in on his own turf, and work provided him with a convenient excuse to stay away.
Susan, alone in her room, had rampaged through her belongings, smashing anything she could get her hands on. The commotion startled the hotel staff who, upon discovering her fury, quickly let the news slip—much to the fascination of the summer camp members who ate it up like juicy gossip.
After Oliver had left, Susan did her best to tend to her bruised face, but Leonard's grip had been strong, leaving marks that were still visible the next day.
She felt as though everyone was silently mocking her. Whispers and snickers seemed to be about her, with society ladies flocking around Natalie for small talk while she stood there, forsaken by all.
Oh, but there was one person by her side—the man who had slapped and humiliated her just the day before, her fiancé Leonard.
To Susan, it was a humiliation of the highest order, an indignity that outshone the scandal Natalie and Flora Lee had orchestrated against her in the past.
A deep-seated loathing burned within her, consuming her thoughts with a relentless fury.
The event organizers proceeded with the day's activities.
Today's adventure was set in the woods, with a section cordoned off for the young elites to engage in a live-action combat simulation.
Dressed in issued camouflage gear, each participant armed with a paintball gun, the men and women entered from separate points. Not only were they tasked with tagging their opponents but also with finding their partners in the game.
Natalie had planned to stick with Lilian, but they got separated shortly after entering the forest.
Having been to the shooting range with Oliver a few times, Natalie knew the recoil from a real gun was more than her wrists could handle, leading to inaccurate shots. But with a paintball gun, she was in her element.
Hitting two targets in rapid succession, she ducked behind a bush.
"Natalie."
At the sound of her name, Natalie reflexively returned fire.
Susan, her face half-covered with red paint, stood not far behind Natalie, holding her paintball gun with a blank expression, her eyes a shadowy, icy glare.
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