Chapter 181
But she was a proud and dignified woman.
The Joanna she used to be would never have lowered herself to say such things, swallowing her pride and dignity-
Joanna wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes, then turned with bitter resentment to look at Celestine. “Mrs. Fordham, are you satisfied now? Chester is your husband. He’ll always be yours! I hope you’re pleased with all your
scheming–now he’s seen it for himself. Make sure you don’t disappoint him again! Don’t make him suffer because of you!”
With that, she stormed out of the gallery without another glance.
Chester, stunned by Joanna’s final words, seemed to awaken from a trance.
He shot Celestine a long, searching look–no words, just that–and then turned to chase after Joanna, both of them vanishing down the hallway.
Celestine’s hand tightened around her paintbrush until her knuckles whitened, then slowly relaxed.
She had seen it clearly in Chester’s last glance: a flash of anger, blame, and
contempt.
Joanna always knew how to play her cards.
This time, she’d twisted her own “crimes” into acts of love for Chester.
That made everything fall into place.
After all, a man can’t bring himself to hate a woman who loves him so desperate… so single–mindedly.
He was the one who had everything to gain, and Joanna was his lost ideal, the one that got away.
Seeing a woman like that lower herself, humble herself for his sake–even her “crimes” seemed almost moving.
And Celestine? The wife who’d had her very right to survive stripped away, and now couldn’t even get a divorce–she was the villain in their dramatic love story.
Celestine filled in the last patch of green on her canvas, as if, stroke by stroke, she was piecing back together the shards of her own shattered heart.
The simultaneous appearance of all three of them today had been an accident, pure
Chapter 181
and simple.
Joanna’s performance was flawless–her tears so convincing, even Celestine almost felt something for her.
If Chester chose Joanna in a moment like this, Celestine could hardly blame him, It almost made sense.
She should be grateful, really–those two had left her with all the evidence she’d ever need of their affair.
But what truly surprised her, what kept her from simply sitting back and watching, was Elena.
“Your husband just ran after that conniving homewrecker, and you’re still sitting here painting? You want to make a bigger fool of yourself?” Elena fumed, practically vibrating with frustration.
How could any woman be this naive? Letting the mistress walk all over you, sneering in your face–and you don’t even say a word? You let your husband chase after her right in front of you!
It’s bad enough being Celestine’s rival in love, Elena thought, but to lose to someone like this was just humiliating.
This whole scene was enough to make her blood boil.
Celestine kept her head down, a faint, ironic smile flickering across her lips.
When she looked up again, her expression was full of confusion and resignation. “I’m sorry you had to see all this, Miss Langley. You can see I’m just a hopeless
woman.”
“You really are hopeless!” Elena snapped. “You should have gone up and si ed Joanna across the face–show her you’re not a doormat!”
Celestine shook her head. “I couldn’t. She’s the one Chester loves. If I hurt her, it would only make him unhappy.”
Elena nearly choked on her own outrage.
Did this woman even hear herself?
“You’re pathetic! If you can’t figure out how to be Mrs. Fordham, you should step aside–anyone could do a better job than this!”
Celestine gave a soft sigh, her voice gentle but unwavering. “But, Miss Langley, I love Chester enough to tolerate another woman in his life. Could you say the
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same?
Elena’s expression twisted with confusion.
For a moment, her mind went blank. Was Celestine insulting her, or was she just hopelessly lovesick?
The anger burning inside Elena threatened to spill over
If she stayed another minute with this fool, she’d probably have a stroke.
“idiot?” she spat, and stormed out
Celestine’s red lips curled into a small, secretive smile as she calmly put her paints away, one by one
Mrs. Fordham isn’t leaving just yet,‘ she murmured to herself
