Chapter 18 Quarrel
Meanwhile, Abigail was shopping for clothes with Tricia when her phone rang. She opened it and saw that it was Gregory.
Excitedly, she opened the chat box, ready to say hello to him. But she decided to wait until Gregory sent a message before greeting him. She had to wait for several minutes.
Gregory typed something and then deleted it, showing his indecision and hesitation. For some reason, Abigail found it amusing. In her impression, Gregory was unattainable and aloof. She had never seen him in such a conflicted state before.
She sent a greeting emoji: a cute cat popping out of a box sweetly saying "hello." When Gregory saw the emoji, he couldn't help but chuckle.
He thought for a moment and commented, "Very cute."
His response initially took Abigail aback, but then he smiled helplessly. "Gregory, have you never used emojis before? Has no one ever sent them to you?" Otherwise, why would someone compliment the cuteness of an emoji after saying hello?
This question stumped Gregory. He had indeed never used emojis before. He had a cold personality, and even with his mother, he rarely showed any signs of affection, let alone on WhatsApp. If someone sent him a long message, he would consider it good enough to reply with just an "okay."
Although Henry and the others occasionally joked and chatted in the group, they seldom used emojis. And Gregory often found them too noisy, so he muted the group. If they couldn't reach him, they would naturally call him.
The more Gregory thought about it, the deeper his frown became. If he admitted to never having used emojis before, would Abigail believe he was ignorant and old-fashioned? But he truly didn't know.
Abigail had no idea that her casual question could throw Gregory, who remained calm even at the negotiation table, into such disarray.
After waiting for Gregory's reply for a long time, Abigail thought she had hit the mark and smiled as she responded, "That's okay. I'll send you them often from now on."
"Abigail, come and take a look. How does this dress look?" Tricia called out to Abigail as she walked out of the fitting room, waving her hand.
Abigail immediately turned off her phone, got up from the couch, and walked toward Tricia.
Tricia picked out a spaghetti strap dress that reached her ankles. The V-shaped design at the chest made her look even more curvaceous, and the simple cinched waist accentuated her figure. The black lace trim added a hint of mystery, making her look incredibly sexy.
Abigail assessed her from head to toe and nodded approvingly, "It suits you well."
"I think so, too," Tricia agreed.
Tricia admired her beauty in the mirror and instantly felt better.
But when her gaze fell on Abigail, her expression turned exceptionally disdainful.
"Baby, you're a married woman now. Can't you wear clothes that adults wear?"
Abigail lowered her gaze and looked at her outfit.
Well, it was fine—a white T-shirt, denim shorts, and white sneakers—the summer essentials.
And most importantly, it was convenient for going out.
Tricia looked at Abigail's exquisitely beautiful face, which resembled a Barbie doll, and said irritably, "God gave you beauty, not to waste it. With your looks, you can captivate a whole lot of people with just a simple outfit."
Abigail shrugged indifferently, purposely imitating Tricia's tone, "Firstly, my beauty is something I inherited from my mom, and secondly, I can captivate people even without dressing up."
Tricia's face twisted with frustration at Abigail's bragging. She couldn't help but roll her eyes and retort, "Oh really? People are saying that you're all looks and no substance, and even your fiancé can't keep you in check."
Thinking about that scumbag Roman, Abigail couldn't help but snort disdainfully, "I don't care about his liking anyway."
Tricia crossed her arms and gave her a cold glance, "Is that so? I remember someone who used to tail Roman all the time."
As she recalled the image of her always following behind Roman in the past, Abigail felt a deep sense of regret.
Ten years ago, she had an accident and woke up with a lot of lost memories. But she remembered clearly that when she was at her most vulnerable, it was Roman who saved her. So, since then, she has become dependent on him.
At first, Roman treated her fairly well. He would comfort her when she was unhappy and buy her gifts on her birthday. But then Jessica appeared and ruined everything.
Seeing Abigail's unhappiness, Tricia realized she had said something wrong. She cleared her throat and patted Abigail's shoulder, trying to console her, "Abigail, don't be sad. You have Mr. White, the big shot, now."
Abigail snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head slowly, "I'm not sad; I just suddenly feel like all the emotions I invested in the past weren't worth it."
Tricia was initially skeptical, but seeing Abigail's relaxed expression and a hint of relief, she also let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"By the way, how's your relationship with Gregory going? How far have you two progressed?" Tricia feigned playfulness, winking at Abigail with a gossipy and curious look in her eyes.
Abigail couldn't help but flash back to this morning when she accidentally fell onto Gregory's lap. Her cheeks immediately turned red.
Her long and curly eyelashes trembled slightly as she shook her head expressionlessly, "No, absolutely not!"
Tricia squinted her eyes slightly and bluntly exposed her, "It seems like you do have something going on. How could any woman resist a charming man like Mr. White?"
"I said I don't!" Abigail became annoyed and glared at Tricia.
Tricia wrapped her arm around Abigail's neck and whispered, "Abigail, don't you know that you always like to pick at your fingers when you're lying?"
Abigail followed her gaze and lowered her eyes, only to find that Tricia was actually picking at her fingers.
She immediately clenched her hand into a fist, and the blush on her cheeks spread to the back of her ears. "Stop making things up," she said.
Tricia smiled knowingly and continued to ask her, "Just tell me honestly, do you have any feelings for Gregory? Even just a little bit?"
Almost all of Abigail's brain was occupied by Gregory's handsome and compelling face, and she had no energy left to think about anything else.
Avoiding eye contact, she shook her head forcefully, "I don't know."
Afraid that Tricia would continue to question her, she quickly shrugged off Tricia's hand on her shoulder and walked back towards the couch.
"Weren't you going to buy clothes? Could you hurry up and buy them? It's almost noon, and I'm hungry."
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