Lovestory7- chapter 1
On the eve of the anniversary, Brock Mckee and his crush walked hand in hand into the hotel.
I dialed his phone number, but the person who answered was his thirteen–year–old son.
“Dad was attending a parent–teacher meeting, no one was allowed to disturb!”
After my son coldly finished speaking, he blocked me.
That night, the father and son used family discipline on me, citing my disruption of family
harmony. They locked me on the open and windy balcony and made me stand there all night as
punishment.
This time, I really learned my lesson!
I dragged my feverish body and handed over the divorce settlement.
I actively proposed a divorce to Brock!
***
لاخر
In the study
Upon hearing
work.
- om.
he word “divorce,” Brock didn’t even lift an eyelid and continued to focus on his
I waited for him for an hour.
Just
as I was about to faint, the man finally spoke.
“Maliyah, are you really asking for a divorce just because I made you blow some cold air?”
“You were at
I opened my
uth.
first; shouldn’t you
first; shouldn’t you be punished?”
The first time I resisted the urge to justify myself.
m
I said,
“Sign it.” Brock spoke casually.
“Son‘
don’t you have any objections?”
custody belongs to me,
Seeing me shake my head, Brock raised an eyebrow in surprise.
However, in order to emphasize fairness, the man still called Jamie Mckee into the study and asked
him.
“After your parents divorced, who did you want to stay with?”
Jamie proved to be the true descendant of Brock.
Apart from the similar appearance, even the gaze when looking at me was exactly the same, high and Indifferent.
Jamie said, “I was Jamie Mckee, not Jamie Russell.”
In the past, when I heard words like this, I would definitely stay awake all night, silently shedding
tears until dawn.
But experienced last night.
My maternal love for Jamie had long since disappeared.
didn’t even bother to look at him and turned around to walk into the bedroom.
Married for thirteen years, my thoughts were entirely focused on taking care of Brock and Jamie’s
daily needs.
To the extent that one’s personal belongings in this home were pitifully few.
It was finished within ten minutes.
As I walked out of the room dragging my luggage, Brock was sitting on the sofa watching the stock
market.
He said without looking back.
“Where are you going? I will have the driver take you there.”
“No need.” I endured the dizziness and discomfort caused by a high fever and struggled to walk
toward the door.
Just then, a golf ball came flying from the second floor and hit the back of my head hard.
The second floor was Jamie’s game room.
He always played indoor golf after finishing his homework.
I watched as I held my head and curled up on the ground.
After Brock and Jamie exchanged a knowing glance of “here she goes again pretending“, I was left gasping for breath on the ground for half an hour.
In the end, I crawled out of the Mckee’s house gate, covered in cold sweat, and went to the hospital
alone for an infusion.
After my fever subsided, I sat drowsily on the bus heading to the outskirts of the city.
Two hours later, I arrived at my grandmother’s doorstep.
Faced with my sudden appearance, my delighted grandmother didn’t ask anything.
Lovestory7–chapter 1
While I was busy starting a fire with firewood, Jamie steamed a pot full of mashed potatoes for me. When Jamie was a child, he also loved eating them just like me.
Sometimes when he ate too much, he would clamor and demand that I hold him.
When Jamie was about six or seven years old, the Mckee family had a child.
Potatoes were considered a trashy thing that only rural people ate.
After that, Jamie no longer allowed me to bring home the potatoes that my grandmother had personally grown.
“Uh, uh.” I ate my meal too quickly so I had to pound my chest and desperately burp.
Every wrinkle on grandma’s face was filled with a smile.
“What a silly Maliyah.”
In order to make it easier for me to eat, my grandmother, with trembling hands full of wrinkles, gently touched my messy black hair and started weaving my favorite braided pigtails from my childhood.
