Chapter 634 Do You Really Not Like Me?
Dermot, even in the grip of amnesia, recognized Evelyn the instant she materialized before him. He had seen her photograph, and her image had etched itself into his memory.
An inexplicable urge surged within him, a yearning to rush to her side and envelop her in a warm embrace. Yet, he restrained himself. His reservations were twofold; they were in the heart of the Doyle family estate, and he was grappling with the possibility that his emotions were merely the manifestation of unresolved psychological turmoil.
"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone indifferent. He had chosen to keep his amnesia a secret, deeming it unnecessary to reveal given his ability to comprehend the situation from the available information. If his condition were to be known, he could only speculate about the potential repercussions.
Dermot's demeanor was icy, so frigid that Evelyn found him unrecognizable. "Dermot, what are you implying?" she asked, genuinely perplexed. She had been absent for a mere few days, yet she returned to find a man who bore little resemblance to the Dermot she knew. She had resolved to reconcile with him, but his current attitude suggested a stark message: "I harbor no affection for you. My previous sentiments were born out of necessity."
"I thought I was clear," he responded, his voice devoid of emotion as he regarded Evelyn with a neutral expression. His words sent a chill through Evelyn's heart. "So, you're saying you have no feelings for me?"
"You're right," he confirmed, his nod devoid of hesitation. Yet, a pang of pain reverberated within his heart, a sensation he swiftly suppressed, unwilling to let it surface.
Despite the room being occupied solely by them, Dermot was acutely aware of the unseen eyes observing them from the shadows. He had no desire to reveal his vulnerability, nor did he wish for Evelyn to become a target due to his predicament. His past affection, although psychologically induced, did not translate to outright dislike. He simply wished to avoid further contact.
Evelyn studied Dermot, searching his face for any trace of deceit or oddity. She found none. His gaze was sincere, his words honest. He truly felt as he claimed. Evelyn was not one to cling to futile hope. Had Dermot not been so persistent, she would not have contemplated reconciliation. Now, his words left her with no further considerations. It was better this way; the paths of divorced individuals were meant to diverge.
Drawing a deep breath, she mustered a smile. "Alright, if that's your stance." She silently hoped he would remain steadfast in his decision. Even if he were to seek her out again, she would not grant him another opportunity. As Evelyn turned to leave, Dermot watched her retreating figure, a frown creasing his forehead. He made no move to follow her.
Exiting the living room, Evelyn was summoned by Mr. Doyle. She did not decline. Since she was present, it was only fitting to pay her respects.
In the study, she was greeted by an elderly man, his hair white as snow, his face etched with wrinkles, yet his aura radiated an undeniable dignity. Randy Doyle, the reigning patriarch of the Doyle family. His name alone was enough to instill fear, a testament to his formidable reputation.
"Grandpa Doyle, hello, I'm Evelyn," she greeted, her tone neither submissive nor arrogant. Despite his status as the head of the Doyle family, she displayed no fear. This was not solely because of her lineage as a Kyte, but also a reflection of her innate courage, a trait she had possessed since childhood.
Randy nodded, his expression unreadable. "Ms. Kyte, how is your father faring?" His casual inquiry was met with a composed response from Evelyn. Just as he was about to dismiss her following the exchange of pleasantries, Randy broached the subject of Dermot. "I heard you and Dermot were once married?"
"Yes, a long time ago. We've been divorced for quite some time now," Evelyn responded, curiosity piquing as she wondered about the relevance of his inquiry.
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