Chapter379 She Won't Want Him Anymore
Darian thought to himself, ‘If I wasn't out of my mind, how could I have done something so outrageous?’
Now, recalling what Cecily had said in the ballroom, he found himself believing it a bit more.
He asked, "Were she and I once married?"
Larkin nodded. Since Darian had asked, he had no choice but to answer, "Yes, Miss Watson is now your ex-wife."
Darian's cold eyes narrowed. "Why has no one ever mentioned this to me?"
A year ago, he had forgotten many things. He had no memories of her, no recollection of having such an ex-wife, and no one had ever brought it up.
His expressionless face grew increasingly tense. It seemed he had been kept in the dark about many things.
Larkin hesitated, silently cursing Owen for forbidding any mention of it. Owen had even replaced all the household staff to prevent anyone from bringing it up.
Larkin sighed softly and, after some thought, found an excuse. "You never asked, so we never mentioned it."
Darian's gaze deepened. Clearly, he did not accept this explanation.
He hadn't asked because Cecily didn't exist in his memory.
And the fact that he had given her everything he owned before losing his memory indicated that she had been very important to him.
Someone so important, yet for an entire year, no one around him had mentioned her.
And those two children—everyone had kept silent about them as well.
This was undoubtedly a deliberate concealment.
Darian glanced at Larkin, his eyes cold. After a brief hesitation, he stepped into the room.
Inside, Cecily stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her eyes slightly downcast, arms crossed. Under the bright lights, her slender figure appeared somewhat forlorn.
Seeing Darian bring Freya back, letting her change clothes here, and even saving her earlier—Cecily, being a woman, felt hurt no matter what justifications Darian might have.
Hearing the sound, Cecily turned to look. After a few seconds, she bit her lip, unable to swallow her anger. She quickly walked up, pressed Darian's chest with force, and pinned him against the wall. "Do you like Freya?"
Darian's eyes narrowed slightly as her hand pressed against his chest, her demeanor fierce.
He stared at her face; she was beautiful, resembling an angry little beast when she was angry.
As he gazed at her, he couldn't bring himself to be indifferent.
He wondered what had happened between them and why everyone kept her existence from him. ‘Had I loved her deeply before? Or else, I wouldn't have given her everything. But if I loved her so much, why wasn't she by my side? Why had she left with my children?’
Countless questions arose in his mind, but he found no answers.
"Speak up, are you mute?" Cecily blinked, holding back the tears in her eyes.
She harbored resentment, a resentment that had simmered since the ballroom and persisted until she returned home. Seeing Freya in her nightgown, with wet hair coming out of the room, had nearly made her explode.
Her emotions had been a whirlwind all night, with countless thoughts emerging only to be dismissed by herself. She had been suppressing her anger, and now, finally letting it out, she considered herself to be quite patient.
"I don't like her." Darian looked down at her, strangely thinking about how he could calm this woman down.
In fact, he had no feelings for Freya, let alone any affection.
Freya was placed in the company and by his side by Owen.
She was an insignificant woman; he didn't care about her presence. Keeping her around spared him from Owen's constant nagging.
To him, hiring Freya was no different from hiring a cleaning lady.
They were all inconsequential people, and if it kept Owen quiet, he was more than happy to do so.
"Then why did you bring her home? Why let her bathe and change clothes in my room? She's even wearing my nightgown, the one I really like, and that necklace, which my mother gave me. But now that she's used them, I don't want them anymore. Let me tell you, Darian, I know you've lost your memory and forgotten me. I don't blame you, but if you fall for another woman, I won't cling to you. I'll take your children and your money and leave. We'll never appear in your world again, and you can spend your life with the woman you love."
Cecily finished her rant in one breath, pushed Darian away, and turned to leave.
She didn't want the clothes and necklace that someone else had used, and if he fell for someone else, she wouldn't want him either.
But just as she turned, her wrist was suddenly grabbed, and she was pulled back into his arms.
He stood there, letting her vent, silently watching her. When she tried to leave, he instinctively wanted to hold her back.
His patience and tolerance for her surprised even himself. "Are you done?"
Cecily smelled the faint scent of perfume on him, the same perfume Freya wore, which annoyed her even more. She struggled in his arms, hitting him a few times. "You stink, let me go."
She shook off his hand, grabbed a few pieces of clothing, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Darian stood there, watching her busy herself in a flurry of anger. Every move she made was an expression of her fury.
She didn't look back at him once as she left the room.
Darian smirked.
He found it somewhat amusing. Cecily's domineering demeanor just now made her seem less like his ex-wife and more like his lawful wife.
Patiently waiting for her to finish venting, he found he couldn't even be annoyed by her emotions. Instead, he felt a strange urge to comfort her.
But did she just say he stank?
Darian lifted his hand and sniffed the scent on him—a whiff of perfume.
His sharp brows furrowed, and he immediately took off his jacket and tossed it into the trash can.
Larkin, standing outside, saw Cecily storm out with a murderous look on her face. He peeked inside. ‘Is Darian okay?’
"What are you looking at?" asked Cecily.
Larkin swallowed. "Miss Watson, actually, Mr. Darian and Mrs. Cruz are innocent. Tonight, Mrs. Cruz followed us in her car. It started raining outside, and she slipped and got all wet. Mr. Darian only let her in to change clothes. That's all he did; the rest was Mrs. Cruz's doing."
Cecily glanced at him. "You're really a good assistant, even explaining for him."
"I'm just telling the truth, not trying to cover for him." Larkin firmly raised three fingers to show his honesty.
Cecily lowered her eyes, "Got it. You've had a long day; you should go rest."
Her mood slightly improved, she took her nightgown and went to sleep in the room next door.
In the study, Darian sat in his chair, his eyes calmly fixed on a spot, his mind filled with countless thoughts.
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