There was a time when he couldn’t let go of his resentment. He thought that since Cassandra had cheated once, he’d do the same. That way, it would feel like they were even.
He didn’t actually think much of Annabelle at first. Compared to Cassandra, she didn’t come close. But he had to admit that Annabelle had a beautiful pair of hands.
He had always loved Cassandra’s hands–graceful and delicate, soft and fair. She never bothered with manicures. Her hands were just clean and lovely by nature.
Annabelle’s hands were nice too but always done up with manicures, lacking that natural beauty. They were passable at best.
When he chose Annabelle, Cameron told himself she was average–looking, average in skills, and came from an average family. After they parted ways, he would give her a lump sum that was enough to live on for the rest of her life.
At least, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
He thought he had kept things well hidden, but he never counted on Cassandra being so sharp. She figured it out long ago.
After that, everything spiraled out of control, far beyond fixing.
Cameron pressed his fingers to his forehead, took a long drag of his cigarette, and tasted nothing but bitterness.
If he had known things would end up this way, he never would have tried to “even the score” by getting involved with Annabelle.
Just then, Harold, who was staying in Stokelle, messaged Cameron. “Mr. Dorsey, Mrs. Dorsey is doing well. She’s still at Westwood Hotel.”
**
Cameron finally felt a little relief and replied. “As long as she’s not thinking about running away again, don’t put any pressure on her. Let her do whatever she wants.”
Over in Stokelle, Harold read the message carefully. Now that Cassandra was the hotel manager, she probably wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. So, he didn’t need to intervene. He just needed to wait and see. Honestly, this job had been pretty easy.
Harold replied. “Yes, Mr. Dorsey.”
Cameron looked at his phone’s wallpaper. It was a photo of him and Cassandra, taken just recently on his birthday.
Cassandra was grinning sweetly, her face resting on his shoulder, with a dab of frosting he had smeared on her nose. He looked ridiculously happy as well, gazing at her like nothing else in the world mattered.
How he wished time could turn back to that moment. But life didn’t work that
way.
In the end, he couldn’t fight his longing for her. He picked up the phone and made a call.
Harold answered right away. “Mr. Dorsey, what do you need?”
“How’s Cassandra? What is she doing now?”
“She’s in Ms. Graham’s room. They’re chatting.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the living room. Mrs. Dorsey and Ms. Graham are in the bedroom.”
“Keep your voice down. Take your phone over to the bedroom door. I want to hear her voice.”
Harold slipped off his shoes and crept over, cracking the bedroom door just enough to slide the phone in. Soon, Cameron could hear Cassandra’s and Daisy’s voices.
Daisy asked, “Why are you shopping for men’s dress shirts?”
Cassandra replied, “I need one. Could you help me check if this brand is based in Rimona?”
“I think so. I saw this brand at a fashion show in Rimona a while back.”
“Do you
know any reliable shoppers? Could you ask how much this shirt costs?”
Daisy said, “This brand isn’t cheap. It’ll cost you tens of thousands of dollars, at least.”
Cassandra bit her lip. “Alright, tens of thousands it is. Ask them to buy one for me.”
“Send me the size, and I’ll pass it on.”
Cassandra asked, “What size standards do they use in Rimona? The guy’s about six feet two and weighs… about the same as Cameron.”
Daisy was shocked. “You’re buying a shirt for Cameron? Wait, what’s going on in your head? Hey, who’s out there?”
Chapter 48
