Celestine slapped Joanna’s hand away with a sharp smack.
Бино
Joanna’s face flushed scarlet, her eyes glimmering with tears–it was clear she felt deeply humiliated.
A heartbeat later, a tear slipped down her cheek.
She looked utterly wronged.
Chester couldn’t stand it. His voice rose, angry and scolding, “Celestine, what is wrong with you? Joanna has never done anything to hurt you, yet you keep targeting her again and again! Do you even realize what she’s done while you were away? She took care of Celia–she stepped in as a mother, for your child! She even worried Celia wouldn’t get used to her cooking, so she spent her free time in the kitchen, cooking from scratch. She burned her hands, cut her fingers–she did all of that out of kindness, not because she owed you anything!”
Chester, standing tall and righteous, listed out every supposed good deed, dragging Celestine out for public flogging.
He expected to see remorse in her eyes, some hint of regret. Instead, Celestine calmly took out a sanitizing wipe and cleaned her palm, her red lips curling into a half–smile. “Oh? So she’s the victim now?”
“Drop the sarcasm and apologize to Joanna!” Chester barked.
Celestine met his gaze, unflinching. “Funny. I did all that for nearly six years, and I don’t remember you ever showing me this much concern. What’s the matter, Chester? Is Joanna’s cooking made of gold? Is she better than everyone else?”
Before she married into the Fordham family, even Uncle Murdock’s household–cold as they were never made her cook.
It was only after she’d become Mrs. Fordham, when Chester casually mentioned wanting to taste her cooking, that she forced herself to learn everyone’s likes and dislikes, dish by dish.
Back then, she’d been hopeless in the kitchen.
Those hands, the ones everyone said were made for painting, ended up covered in burns and knife nicks.
Chester had never once looked so frantic or upset about it.
Celestine took a shallow breath, her voice laced with mockery. “Is it just because !
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never cried?”
Chester hesitated, then softened his tone. “You’re the child’s mother.”
In other words, it was her duty.
“Is that so? Well, Miss Sinclair seems pretty eager to play mother, too. So it’s her duty as well, isn’t it? Chester, when I was standing in the kitchen, back before we even had two kids, was I your mother, too?”
“Enough! Celestine, nobody forced you!” Chester’s annoyance was obvious, his brows drawn tight.
He was sick of this side of her–every word she said seemed to come with a barb.
But as soon as the words left his mouth, a memory flashed through his mind. Back when they’d just married, he’d deliberately asked for her cooking, hoping she’d spend less time lost in her design work, less time drifting away from everything else. Even when her food was barely edible, he’d kept his mouth shut and eaten every bite.
When she’d complained that cooking was so hard, that she kept cutting herself, he’d tried to comfort her.
He liked her cooking–selfishly, he’d just wanted her to spend less time with her design sketches.
She’d taken him seriously.
“Well, nobody forced her either,” Celestine said, her face blank. “If Miss Sinclair is so desperate, why not give her what she wants and just divorce me already?”
Joanna’s heart leapt. Was Celestine really willing to divorce?
-Chester’s frustration boiled over. “Don’t even think about it! I’m not divorcing you!”
“Then never see Joanna again,” Celestine replied, her tone almost playful.
Chester hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face. “It’s not what you think, between me and Joanna.”
He didn’t accept, but he didn’t refuse, either.
Joanna felt a cold unease gnaw at her. She clung to Chester’s arm, her eyes pleading.
Catching himself, Chester snapped at Celestine, “There’s no way I’ll stop seeing Joanna, so you can forget it.”
Chapter 121
Gideon clapped his hands slowly, smirking. “Mr. Fordham, what devotion! Clinging to your sweetheart with one hand while blocking your wife with the other–you really are a sight to behold.”
