Chapter 36 Not Getting Divorced, Let's Stay Together
Mary tried to get up but was pulled back down by Matthew.
"What..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Matthew kissed her fiercely.
Mary tried to push him away, but her hands grabbed and pinned above her head.
The kiss became more intense, gradually spreading to her neck and collarbone.
Both of their breathing became erratic.
Mary stared at the exquisite ceiling, a faint blush appearing at the corners of her eyes. "Matthew, I'm not a tool for you. If you still favor what I did for you by bringing you home, then let me go."
Mary thought, 'Stop treating me like this.'
'It made me sick.'
Matthew was intended to be responsible for another woman, yet he kept entangling with her over and over again.
Why bother?
Wasn't he the one who wanted a divorce?
Then why not just get it done?
Matthew's breath fell slightly heavier on Mary's collarbone, but in the end, he let her go and went straight to the bathroom.
Mary's hands slowly fell; she closed her eyes and exhaled a breath, but a sense of loss emerged from the depths of her heart.
She wished Matthew would say, "We're not getting a divorce. Let's stay together."
Heh!
It was indeed her wishful thinking.
When Matthew came out, Mary had already composed herself.
She said, "Let's go to the court now."
Matthew's expression turned a bit colder, "Let's eat breakfast first."
Mary said, "No..."
But before she could finish, her stomach growled embarrassingly.
Her eyes flickered, "Okay."
Her response was as faint as a mosquito's hum.
For some reason, the irritation in Matthew's heart dissipated a bit, and he walked out of the bedroom.
Mary sighed helplessly and followed him out. As she opened the door, a servant stood nearby, handing her a bag, "Good morning, Miss, this is the toiletries Mr. Montagu asked me to prepare for you."
"Oh, thank you."
Mary took it and turned back to freshen up.
Coming out of the bedroom, she realized it was a villa, with the bedroom on the second floor overlooking the living room. The entire villa was in black, white, and gray tones, giving it a cold and solemn atmosphere.
The servants busied themselves efficiently, making no sound.
Mary went down the stairs and saw Matthew in the dining room. She walked over and sat down, starting to eat in silence.
There was a plate of fried crab claws in front of Mary.
"You like fried crab claws," Matthew's deep and magnetic voice came.
Mary stared at the fried crab claws for a moment, then said, "I don't like them."
Matthew furrowed his brows, "Why don't you like them anymore?"
Mary replied, "I just don't like them. Why bother? Do I have to wait until it says it's going to be responsible for someone else?"
Matthew fell silent.
Mary had milk and scrambled eggs, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and then looked at Matthew. She was about to say something when she suddenly noticed a few things placed in a nearby cabinet.
Why did those things look so familiar?
They seemed like what she had previously discarded, didn't they?
Pointing at those items, Mary asked, "Did you pick up what I threw away?"
As the words left her mouth, she suddenly felt a chill in the air around her. Matthew's tone turned colder. "I bought those. What does it have to do with you? Do you think that I would keep what you disposed of?"
Mary blinked. Wouldn't you? But why did they look so alike?
