Chapter 263 Marrying Me Was Just a Matter of Time
Leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed, Zachary's movements widened his shirt collar, making the two red marks on his chest starkly visible. "You're almost thirty, exaggerating a bit, almost forty. It would help if you weren't so naive. I'm here because I slept here last night."
If, earlier, Matthew managed to maintain a semblance of gentlemanly composure when he opened the door, his countenance now underwent a complete transformation. Furrowed brows bore the weight of indifferent admonishment as he queried. "Did you coerce her?"
"Is it not plausible that our actions were voluntary? Matthew, from the moment you rebuffed her plea for assistance years ago, you were relegated to the periphery. No longer do you hold any sway over her; your present fervent pursuit merely erodes the remnants of her childhood affection towards you."
While cognizant that Zachary's words were a reflection of his personal sentiments, Matthew found himself unable to restrain his emotions. Seizing the man by his unfastened collar, the glaring red mark finally dissipated.
"Were it not for your misdirection with my pocket watch, insinuating false pretenses, she would never have considered marrying you."
"She would marry me; it's just a matter of time. At that point, you were unable to assist her in any meaningful way, lacking the determination to go all out for her. I merely need to send a subtle signal when she requires aid, and she will come seeking me.”
“Perhaps she favored you at the time, which is why she turned to you first. However, emotions in such circumstances are the cheapest commodity; unless she loves you to the point of preferring death."
Certain debts, solely through effort and determination, might never be fully repaid in a lifetime.
"Matthew, if it weren't for my reluctance to see her reduced to pleading and living in constant fear, you would not even have the opportunity to loiter around her."
He wouldn't even need to do much—simply wait for Matthew to reject her, for her to be pushed into a corner, and then, just like a deity, emerge to rescue her from distress. This would evoke gratitude from her, rendering her obedient like a pliant canary.
He knew the tactics of loan sharks well; beyond physical harm, they waged a psychological war, seeking to break a person from the inside out.
They not only harassed the debtor but also those around them, until the individual found themselves isolated and scorned by all relatives and friends.
Had he exercised patience until that critical moment, Winona might not have clung to thoughts of Matthew even after marriage.
Zachary was not impatient. However, if he had been so, Winona, when letting go of Matthew, would not only have relinquished him but also her belief in life.
A person with severe psychological trauma would find it challenging to truly forget the past and rediscover joy even with lavish treats post-factum. Even if he were to pamper her as a princess afterward, it would not erase her memories.
Hence, as people aged, happiness became elusive. Withstanding many blows, their resilience grew, but their capacity for joy receded.
Zachary wanted Winona, wanted to be the only one in her life, but he also couldn't bear the thought of being the only one in her life.
He loosened Matthew's grip on his hand. "Matthew, you can still be by her side now because I traded that by making her hate me, so be polite to your benefactor."
Lowering his gaze, Zachary discreetly smoothed the crumpled collar with his hand. "Please hasten to procure breakfast; I find myself quite famished," he remarked.
The tension that had gripped the atmosphere just moments ago dissipated in an instant with his words.
Matthew's gaze trailed along with his movements, sweeping from his chest provocatively. "Next time you pinch yourself, make sure to leave a mark; the previous ones have faded," he taunted.
Zachary lowered his head, parting the collar to inspect, indeed finding his chest had lost much of its redness.
He said to himself, 'Holy moly. His eyes were as sharp as an owl's.'
Ignoring Zachary's changing complexion due to his words, Matthew turned and headed towards the elevator.
Zachary closed the door and returned to the room. Winona was still asleep. He had woken up earlier but hesitated to get up. Now that he was up, he didn't want to lie down again.
He walked to the bedside, intending to tidy up the messy blanket on Winona. Looking at her flushed cheeks from the heat, he couldn't help but reach out and touch her face.
From her smooth forehead to her straight nose bridge, and then to her closed, slender eyes.
He was afraid of waking Winona up, so his movements were light, barely touching her skin.
Upon her awakening, the previous night's excitement had lost its grip, and for Winona's nature, managing to grit her teeth and command herself to depart was an exercise in supreme restraint.
However, as his fingers grazed her eyes, they halted, his brow furrowing, opting instead to rouse her with a direct touch, calling her name softly, "Winona."
His touch detected a hint of dampness, and Winona was in tears. Prior inattention now corrected, he noticed two prominent wet spots on the pillow where she had rested.
Winona, deeply immersed in slumber, required a couple of nudges before hazily parting her lids. With tear-streaked eyes exhibiting both presence and vacancy, she gazed at Zachary in mute inquiry, her expression a portrait of perplexity.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
Zachary's brow remained furrowed as he handed her a tissue to wipe her tears. "Why are you crying?"
Perhaps still not fully awake, Winona's response was sluggish. Clutching the tissue in her hand without using it to dry her tears, she explained, "I had a nightmare and it frightened me."
Zachary stood there watching her for a couple of seconds. He couldn't resist and took the crumpled tissue from her hand to wipe her tears. "What kind of dream could make you cry?"
His words didn't sound like he was trying to comfort her; it was more like he was saying she was a very brave woman, and nothing could make her cry.
As soon as he finished speaking, he regretted it. He pursed his lips, preparing to amend his words. However, to his surprise, Winona didn't argue with him. She obediently answered his question, "I dreamt that I was sold to a fraud center, and when you woke me up, the doctor was about to cut out my kidney."
Zachary fell silent.
The fraud center was a recent internet sensation. Even without trying, he had come across numerous related news and clips. He lightened his touch as he wiped Winona's tears. "That won't happen. No one can sell you, let alone take your kidney. Stop watching those things online."
Others may simply lament upon witnessing such content, but Winona, with her past brush with almost being trafficked, likely harbored a deeper sensitivity to such matters.
Having been exposed to related videos extensively, she was prone to experiencing distressing nightmares.
"Even if someone were to be sold, you wouldn't end up in a swindling hub. Kidneys fetch only a modest price, and even if you were covered head to toe in them, it wouldn't settle your debts, let alone pave the way for deceit.”
“As you're reduced to being sold off due to unpaid debts and lack resources to generate funds, those truly affluent rarely engage in online chats, let alone stumble into transactions at the sight of a vaguely appealing figure. Selling you to such an establishment would yield meager returns, insufficient to cover expenses. Those engaged in usury are not as foolish as to partake in such a loss-making venture."
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