Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 20 - - a wedding photo

Chapter 20 - Chapter 20- a wedding photo

A week later, Cynthia's small apartment was completely transformed. She happily moved in with a bunch of bags because it had already been renovated; she just changed the furniture and redesigned the layout of the entire space.

It was a very tiny place, a small one-bedroom apartment of about forty to fifty square meters with a loft. She had actually set her sights on this apartment earlier; the landlord was an elderly couple she had come to see when she accompanied Marc for a check-up.

Not long ago, the old couple decided to sell the house because they were going abroad to join their children. Previously, she had no financial means to buy it and had considered renting it instead. Thanks to that man, she finally got what she wished for.

Her favorite part was the loft. Although it was called a loft, its utility was comparable to the space below. She had transformed one wall into a fresh and elegant bookshelf. Although the books she currently owned only filled one of the shelves, making it look somewhat silly, she still loved it and envisioned filling it completely one day.

The other wall was covered with a huge floor mirror, intended for practicing dance. In this small space, wherever she went, she could see her graceful reflection. Next to the window, she placed a soft, rose-colored chaise lounge that looked comfortable and warm.

In her spare time, she would dance, read, brew a pot of green tea, and take a nap on the chaise. On sunny days, warm sunlight would stream in. This was the tranquil space she had longed for, the cozy home she could finally create for herself.

After tidying up, she walked up the spiral staircase to her favorite corner, planning to rest. Just as she lay down on the chaise, she received a call from Bonnie. On the phone, Bonnie and Vivian were frantically asking why she hadn't asked for their help in moving.

In truth, she didn't have much stuff in her dormitory; a lot of it was stored at the orphanage, which she could easily have A-Xuan bring over later. So there was really no need to trouble Bonnie and the others.

She lazily turned over on the chaise and explained softly to Bonnie, but they were relentless, insisting that she come out and treat them to a meal to comfort their wounded hearts. Reluctantly, she got up to change clothes downstairs.

Bonnie was okay; they often stayed in touch privately. But for Vivian and Nancy, their contact would certainly decrease in the future. Thinking of this suddenly made her feel a bit reluctant. After all, they were people who had once given her warmth, and she cherished that.

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Feeling cheerful after changing, she left her apartment. It was on the sixth floor, and as she descended the stairs, she couldn't help but hum a tune, bouncing like an innocent child. This feeling of stability eased her mind considerably and made her much happier.

Just as she stepped out of the stairway, she spotted a tall, striking man striding towards her. A car passed by him, kicking up a cloud of dust. He immediately jumped back in disgust, covering his nose with one hand and waving away the dust with the other.

Due to its age, the concrete pavement in this neighborhood had become severely worn. Whenever a car passed by or the wind picked up, dust would fly everywhere. However, this was still the best environment in the area, although it couldn't compare to the luxurious high-end buildings he lived in.

From such a distance, she could already feel an overwhelming wave of anger and coldness emanating from him. It was palpable, and her good mood instantly vanished, her smile fading little by little.

How could it be him? Ever since she bought the apartment, she hadn't expected to see him. She thought their relationship, outside of those obligatory social occasions, would be completely unrelated. Yet, on the very first day of her move, he showed up uninvited.

Suddenly, a flicker of irritation sparked within her. The tranquility she had so hard-won was abruptly disrupted, causing her bright eyes to narrow slightly. Instinctively, she turned to walk away. However, before she could take a step, a biting yell came from behind her:

"Lancaster—!"

She had no choice but to stop in her tracks, pouting with a hint of annoyance and rolling her eyes. Of course, she wouldn't let him see such a cute gesture. Taking a deep breath to suppress her displeasure, she turned around, becoming the calm woman once again.

Knowing full well he was in a foul mood, she still feigned innocence and smiled brightly at him, her face expressing surprise at seeing him.

"Mr. Wilson, what are you doing here?"

"How could I be here? Don't you know?"

Albert Wilson couldn't stop yelling, nearly furious to the point of exploding. That damn woman—this was the apartment she chose? A complete slum! Buying a house here was like getting kicked in the head by a donkey!

Albert Wilson, who was renowned in the investment world, never expected that she would spend money on a place like this! Was this woman born to be his nemesis, here to ruin his fortune? Although a mere few hundred thousand was nothing to him, he would never spend a single penny on something unworthy of investment.

After he finished shouting, a gust of wind hit him. In April, the spring breeze was still fierce, and he felt a cloud of dust, along with flying debris and dried leaves, choking his throat. After a moment of silence, he lost all his usual elegance and turned his head to cough violently.

Once he finally managed to calm himself, he noticed her standing there motionless, blinking her bright eyes and looking at him with a calm demeanor. There was a hint of mockery in her gaze that made him feel utterly humiliated. The anger he had been suppressing boiled over:

"You have the whole day free!"

After yelling, he saw that she still stood there without moving. He resisted the impulse to rush forward, knock her out, and carry her away. Instead, he ground out each word through clenched teeth:

"Get in the car!"

Having coldly ordered her, he turned and walked away briskly. Since he was unfamiliar with the winding terrain, worried about damaging his car, he had parked it in a relatively open area and walked over.

With each step he took, his anger intensified, almost bursting his lungs and tearing through his insides. No wonder Jim hesitated when he told him the address and warned, "Boss, you need to prepare yourself, or bring something to shield yourself from the dust."

When he first heard that, he thought Jim had gone mad from Monica's antics. But upon arriving, he realized Jim's warning was genuinely well-intentioned. Standing in his expensive suit amidst a gray, rundown landscape, he felt so out of place.

He muttered curses under his breath, pinching his nose to block the smell coming from the garbage bins scattered around the neighborhood, carefully stepping over the numerous potholes in the road. Within just a few steps, a layer of dust had settled on his polished shoes.

He recalled the time she mentioned wanting a house and the scorn he felt then; she must have sensed it too, yet she merely pursed her lips and said nothing. Now that he thought about it, his assessment of her seemed a bit hasty.

Reflecting on this made his already foul mood even more irritable. He couldn't help but quicken his pace, heading toward where he had parked, as if he wanted to vent all his pent-up frustration through his legs.

Cynthia was taken aback by his inexplicable shouting. It wasn't until he turned to leave that she snapped back to reality and quickly jogged to catch up with him.

"Mr. Wilson, can I ask if there's something important? I already have plans to have dinner with a friend…"

Was this man not a bit too overbearing and arrogant? Didn't he realize he could have given her a heads-up by calling in advance? Her life didn't revolve around him; just because he said to free up her schedule didn't mean she had to comply.

Without even turning around, he tossed back a few words:

"Wedding photo shoot!"

"Huh?"

She stopped in her tracks, momentarily stunned, and then suddenly burst into laughter, as if she had heard the funniest joke.

As she laughed, a phrase from a book she had once read came to mind: if a man can make you laugh, no matter what kind of laugh it is, it's already a prelude to love. Thinking of this, her smile gradually faded.

Ultimately, the brilliant smile transformed into a distant, light smirk lingering at the corners of her mouth.

"Mr. Wilson, that joke of yours is indeed quite funny!"

"Do you think I'm joking?"

He abruptly stopped, turned around, and glared at her, anger gradually enveloping him.

She sighed, her tone earnest, as if she were scolding a petulant child.

"In our kind of relationship, do you really think a wedding photo shoot is necessary? Where would we put those photos? What would we even do with them afterward?"

Her indifferent demeanor, the tone as if she were lecturing a child, and her nonchalant attitude… all of it drove Albert Wilson to the brink of madness. He felt like he would die today, suffocated by the sheer frustration this woman was causing him.